I don’t know what kind of homecoming I expected. There wasn’t going to be a parade with the Royal Navy, marking my grand return from rehab.

I walked into my apartments. There was a vase of flowers on the round table in the foyer. They were exotic and rare. I knew who sent them before I read the note.

I plucked the card from table.

“Hmm.” I folded it in half and tossed it next to the vase. “Where is Isabel?” I asked Kenley.

She was busy directing the valets with my luggage.

“She’s still in Spain,” she replied.

“I see.”

“Everyone misses her. I’m sure she’ll be back at the palace soon. Maybe another week or two at the most. I understand she has fallen in love with the countryside.”

Kenley’s heels clicked across the marble when one of the royal messengers entered. She whispered something to him and faced me.

“The king and queen would like for you to join them for dinner tonight as a welcome home supper,” she conveyed.

“Would they?”

She nodded. “Here is the royal invitation, signed by the queen.”

“How is that working out?” I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“The queen. I’ve only met her once and then my brother married her.”

Kenley’s eyes widened. “Oh. She has been wonderful. A truly modern queen.”

“Kenley.” I stared at her.

I didn’t know why she had been so strange since the flight. Maybe my constant drunken haze had made it seem like she was more forthcoming, but something seemed different. Kenley seemed different toward me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Should I send a reply?” she asked.

“After you tell me what you really think of my sister-in-law.”

My fingers itched. I turned for the bar and stopped mid-stride. Wasn’t that what I always did? I’d pour a drink while Kenley filled me in on the palace news. It was part of our routine. Sometimes she would try to talk me out of a fourth or fifth drink.

I didn’t remember her succeeding often.

I didn’t have to look to know the bar was stripped. Alcohol would never be served in these apartments again. I felt a swell of triumph knowing I didn’t want it. I liked viewing the world with clarity.

I decided to settle on more tea instead.

“The queen is lovely,” she offered.

“But?” I lifted my eyebrows.

“But nothing. I like her. She’s American. There’s an adjustment period.”

I chuckled. “And she’s not royal.”

“No. Not at all. Our customs are completely new to her.”

Kenley was holding back.

“But you think Damon is happy with her?”

She nodded. “Without question, the king is very happy.”

“That’s something.”

There was a fresh pot of tea on the drink cart. The staff was prepared.

“More tea?” I offered Kenley.

“No thank you. I need to send a response to her majesty.”

“That sounds strange to hear. It might be a while before I believe my brother is actually married.” I watched Kenley fidget with her planner. She hadn’t relaxed once. “You can tell them I’ll be there. But I didn’t buy them a wedding gift. Should I take something?”

She looked up. “I sent one for you.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s royal protocol. I took care of it for you.”

The tea was too hot. I waited for it to cool. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And what did I send?” I asked.

“A set of royal blue Turkish towels with the family crest embroidered on them.”

Kenley had a way of always choosing the most appropriate gift. The right tie. The perfect speech. She knew royal protocol better than I did. Hell, she could ace a test the rest of my family would fail. It made her an invaluable part of my staff. I liked to think I had the best royal manager. Today, she was the prettiest. Her cheeks glowed and her lips looked soft and pillowy. Fuck. They looked kissable.

“Did you go to the wedding?”

She paced in front of me. I watched her steps carry her long legs back and forth. I couldn’t remember Kenley ever wearing heels like those before. It made her calves look lean and strong. I shook my head.

“I did. All the royal managers attended.”

“I would think my brother would want you on the guest list whether you were a royal manager or not.”

The pacing stopped for a moment. “I attended as a royal manager.”

“I bet Sutcliffe almost had a stroke over the American.” I chuckled.

She bit her lip. “Almost.”

“I’m sorry I missed the wedding. And Sutcliffe’s meltdown.”

I didn’t expect the crown to stop operating because I was in rehab. But it was frustrating that things had moved on as if I wasn’t needed. As if my existence in the family wasn’t enough to put a wedding on hold. Galona ran with or without me. But where my brother was concerned, little got in his way.

Sometimes I thought it was what made him a good king. Sometimes I thought it made him a selfish bastard.

Who was I to say? I’d been that selfish bastard for a long time. I wasn’t a good brother. I hadn’t been for years. I fell into a dark pit that had swallowed me whole.

I shifted on the couch to remove my jacket. I checked the pocket for the letter before throwing it over the back of the sofa.

“I’m going to find that messenger. I’ll be right back,” she announced.

Kenley walked out of the room. Her heels clacking on the floor.

I reached for the letter. I had read it so many times, I’d practically memorized every line. Every cruel word. Cruel as it was, it was what I had needed to crawl out of the darkness.