~Xavier~

"I'm not fücking ready."

Marcus, my overqualified butler, took one look at me in my worn out jeans and "Panic! at the ballroom" t-shirt.

His eyebrows went higher than Snoop Dogg.

Clearly, good music and sarcastic disdain for the waltz offended him.

"We have two hours till take off." I knew I sounded more like a whiny brat than a monarch. "So if you'll excuse me, I have some important business -"

Marcus expertly reached over my desk, turned my laptop around, and read out the pdf I'd hastily pulled up when he'd entered my study.

"The complete and revised guide of hair styles for dogs." He said, not impressed.

I shrugged, the poster child of totally-not-guilty.

Without skipping a beat, the butler minimized the window to show off a leather clad redhead on Skype.

"Your Highness," Marcus said, calmly. "I don't believe there were any suggestions for this particular breed."

"Did you just call me a bîtch?" Victoria replied. "Let me just grab a valley real quick and cry you a river."

And here we go again.

"It is not in my place to say but that this little fling has gone on long enough -"

"It is in my place to say that your nose is about twenty inches too deep in Xavier's business. Overcompensating for something else, Marcus?"

Okay. That's enough fun and games for today.

Grabbing the laptop, I made kissing noises at the screen and closed it before Marcus became a little teapot and blew steam from his ears.

The guy had an Ivy League education, four PhDs and knew thirteen languages.

Why he chose to spend his life babysitting me and sprinkling salt on my martini rims was beyond me.

"Your Highness." He said now, his back straighter than I was. "I truly apologise for the intrusion -"

"What do you like doing, Marcus?"

I didn't interrupt him because I was being disrespectful.

Quite the contrary - I sure as shît wasn't going to let him apologise to me merely for having a spine.

"I like serving my country and King." Marcus chanted back, eerily like Siri.

"No." I said, amused. "If you weren't born here at the palace, what would you do?"

He hesitated.

"Well. I haven't given it much thought." Yet it sounded a lot like he had. "But I believe I would be an engineer. Master Daniel's work interested me deeply."

Hearing Danny's name sent a dull ache through my chest. I hadn't heard from or about him in a year since that day at the Court of Trials.

But that meant he was still alive.

Probably.

Yeah, I was definitely winning at friendship.

"Then you should do that." I said, getting up. "Become an engineer. Do what you like. Do you have a family -"

"You're firing me."

His tone was flat. No questions, no argument, no accusations.

"Fück no." I said. "I couldn't find my toothbrush without you."

It was one of those annoying side effects of being King.

In the last six months, I'd gone from baker on the street to the face of a nation. That meant I had to fly three thousand miles, attend two charity fundraisers and make up a new tax reform.

Before breakfast.

It also meant I could conveniently have everything including my äss towel dried and powdered if I wanted to.

"You should take a couple of months off." I told Marcus now. "I shouldn't have to rely on you so much. It's an ungodly amount of pressure."

An ungodly amount of pressure which I'll now add to my itsy bitsy plate.

No biggie.

"If that is your wish, then I shall oblige." He bowed deeply.

I didn't know what I was thinking. Maybe I expected him to put up more of a fight.

Yes, because you assumed the guy with half a dozen doctorates is stupid enough to refuse a paid vacation.

"Violent delights have violent ends." Marcus gave me a rare smile. "Have a nice day, Your Highness."

With that, my butler left the room.

Shakespeare was always one hell of a mic drop.

Over the last couple of months, he'd tried to change my mind about Victoria because he predicted that this affair would evolve into mess of T-Rex proportions.

As the King, I agreed.

As me, I'd instructed the King to kindly fück off.

Right on cue, my phone rang. The caller ID screen had red velvet cake and the ringtone was Eye of the Tiger.

I smiled.

"I want to fück you."

Victoria laughed. "Next time maybe start with 'Hi. How are you? Oh, I'm sorry, my dîck wants to talk to you'."

"I'm a busy man, Shortcake." I said, heading to the bedroom. "I don't waste time."

"I'm a bored lady, Biscuit." She returned. "So you bloody well make time."

"Tight schedule."

"You want to know what else is tight?"

Hallelujah. "Pray tell."

"My jujitsu game." She laughed. "Go grab some holy water for that thirst, Biscuit."

She's going to be the death of me.

"Oh, and don't fly over the Bermuda Triangle or smash that plane into a hill and die." She continued. "I will bloody well not mourn you after a half year dry spell."

"How about I just fly it out to the Guardian Quarters and smash you instead?" I said, picking out a suit.

"Houston, I don't think we have a problem." I could practically hear her blush. "Now don't you dare enjoy that trip while I'm rotting away on this island."

I smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

"Don't screw up your sleep, don't eat anything fancy, don't fück the hostess and-"

She paused to find more 'instructions'.

I found that adorable.

And that right there was a one way ticket to hell - don't pass Go, don't collect $200.

"Don't get bitten by deer ticks."

"Right." I smiled. "Anything else, Lady Shortcake?"

"I miss you."

It was one of those lovey dovey couple things we hadn't mentioned in six months.

While we'd spoken about why Pacific Rim was an amazing movie to how ants built their homes, we were apparently too cool for "I love you", never having said it in nearly a year.

Because saying it meant remembering that we were thousands of miles away - that for being the most powerful man on earth, I couldn't visit the Guardian Quarters and she couldn't leave until her training was over in a week.

That I miss you right there was a sucker punch to my gut.

Glad to see she was smacking me even when it was physically impossible.

"I-" I took a deep breath, and looked at my watch. "I've gotta go."

I cut the call and contemplated how best to strangle myself with a tie.

Half an hour later, I was dressed and still alive.

One hour later, I was walking out of my car on to the tarmac with two bodyguards who weren't my girlfriend.

Two hours later, I was on another plane heading to a meeting I'd been putting off for six months.

Two hours and seven minutes later, I was downing my Scotch on the rocks, trying to ignore my headache.

And I got the distinct feeling that I was about to do one of the things that Victoria had asked me not to.

***

Xavier : "Roses are red, violets are blue. Vote because I should say, "I love you."