Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Twenty-Three

Three weeks later

Stuart paused outside the door to Matt’s office, his heart hammering.

It’s now or never. He’d been putting the conversation off for the past week, but Matt’s latest email had given him the final push he’d needed. He rapped on the glass panel.

“Come in.”

Matt was seated at his desk that was barely visible beneath a mountain of paperwork and folders, and the A/C was going full tilt. He glanced up as Stuart entered, his face breaking into a smile. “Hey. Hot enough for ya? Good timing, by the way. I was gonna call you today to talk about this upcoming conference in London. I’ve had more information through from the organizers, and I—” Matt frowned. “Are you okay? Because you look… I don’t know…”

“Pissed off? Tired? Unhappy? All of the above?” Stuart sat in the leather chair that faced Matt’s desk.

Matt flung his pen down. “Okay, let’s have it. What’s wrong? If it’s the heat, take it up with God. Nothing to do with me.”

Everything’s wrong. And it had been like that for the past three weeks. “I’m tired. It’s been back-to-back assignments—”

“It’s always back-to-back assignments.”

“Then something needs to change,” Stuart fired back, more brusquely than he’d intended. He sighed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should go out and come in again.”

“You stay right where you are.” Matt leaned back in his chair, swiveling it a little from side to side. “I had the impression that you wanted to be kept busy.” When Stuart gave him an inquiring glance, Matt got up and went over to the filing cabinet. He pulled open the top drawer, reached into it, and removed a folded newspaper. He dropped it onto the desk in front of Stuart. “Wasn’t sure if you’d seen this. It came out after you’d left for LA.”

Stuart caught his breath at the photo of him and Jordan in tuxedos, dancing at the ball in New York. “I hadn’t seen it,” he murmured. He picked it up. What struck him were their smiles. We look so goddamn happy. Even in black-and-white, Jordan looked as if he was glowing.

“Anything you wanna tell me?”

Stuart snapped back into the present. “Hmm?”

Matt gestured to the newspaper. “I’m not blind.”

Stuart tossed it onto Matt’s desk, where it landed on top of all the other crap he had there, fluttering in the breeze from the A/C. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

Matt blinked. “What?”

Stuart shuddered out a breath. “I’ve had enough. I quit.” His heart raced.

“Did you get a better offer?” Matt gaped at him. “Is that it?”

“No, not at all. But this has been coming for a while.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Stuart shrugged. “Since before the Ellorian job. I think it’s time for a change. I thought so then, but the past three weeks have… crystallized things for me.”

Matt frowned. “But what will you do?”

“Right now?” Stuart grinned as his decision took root. “No idea. Maybe take a vacation?”

Matt’s jaw hit the floor. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Never been more so.” Now that he’d finally made his mind up, Stuart felt lighter than he had in years. “Do you need me to work a month’s notice?”

Matt waved his hand. “Two weeks. I’ll start looking for a replacement now.” He sighed. “I guess I’d better choose someone else to be the lead for the London assignment.”

“No hard feelings?” Stuart didn’t want to drop Matt in the shit.

“Are you kidding? You’ve been the backbone of this company for ten years. You’ve enhanced its reputation, and I wish you every success.” His eyes twinkled. “In whatever you end up doing.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” Stuart got up. “I guess I’d better go home and get packed for tomorrow.” He smiled. “I’m still on the payroll, after all, which means tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way to…”

“Nevada,” Matt volunteered. He cocked his head to one side. “A vacation, huh? Any idea where you might go?”

“Seeing as I’ve only just thought of it, no.”

Matt grinned. “I hear Elloria is nice in July.” When Stuart narrowed his gaze, Matt gave him an innocent stare. “What?” He pointed to the door. “Go on, get outta here. I gotta find your replacement. Another impossible task to add to my list.”

Stuart walked out of Matt’s office with a light heart. He’d actually done it. Maybe I should just take my time to decide what I want to do next. He had enough money put by to provide a buffer for at least six months.

As he exited the building, his phone rang, and he smiled. He’s already found someone. But when he peered at the screen, it was an unknown number. He wasn’t in the habit of answering those, but this was an unusual day.He clicked on Answer.

“Mr. Whitmore?”

He recognized the voice in a heartbeat. “Your Majesty.”

And another three weeks later

Jordan sat at his father’s desk, his chin resting on his elbows, staring at the monitor without really seeing it, his vision blurring, numbness settling on him like a heavy blanket.

I wonder what he’s doing now?

“Jordan?” He jerked his head toward the door. His mother gazed at him, her brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

Jordan straightened in his chair. “I’m going through the results of the LGBTQI questionnaire that have come in so far.” It had taken him a week to thrash out how he’d wanted the document to look, then another two to get it printed up and ready to mail to every house in Elloria. It was a huge undertaking, and his father had been true to his word, leaving it all to Jordan.

If Jordan had been in a better frame of mind, his father’s pride would have meant so much more.

“And are the results as you expected?”

He shrugged. “It’s early days, but there seem to be far more LGBTQI citizens in Elloria than we’d supposed.” It was heartening to receive such a positive response. His father had been right about one thing—there were dissenters—but they were in the minority. Jordan had asked the people what services they wanted to see, presenting it as their opportunity to shape the future for all queer citizens in Elloria.

The queen sat facing him. “This should make you happy.”

“It does,” he insisted.

“Then it’s a pity you haven’t informed your face.”

Jordan jerked his head up. “Mother?” Did she really just say that?

She flushed. “A phrase I picked up in America, which I am now realizing comes across as very rude.” She tilted her head. “But you’re not happy, are you?”

“Tomorrow night is my birthday ball. That should make me happy.” He gave a half smile. “A little late, but better late than never.” There was to be music, food, dancing…

His heart wasn’t in it, however. He’d taken no interest in planning the event, and he had the feeling his parents knew why.

As if she was privy to his thoughts, his mother sighed. “I was encouraged by your reaction to our visit to America. Seeing you return home and take your responsibilities seriously was all we had hoped for. We wanted the trip’s… experiences to leave a lasting positive impression.”

Jordan swallowed. “It was a wonderful trip,” he affirmed.

“And yet since your return, you—”

“I thought you’d be happy that I left my childish ways back in America.”

His mother stood, wincing, her arms hanging at her sides. She gave a single nod, then walked out of the office. As she closed the door, he caught her words, barely audible, and uttered in a monotone.

“You left your heart there too.”

Jordan stared at the dark wooden door.

No, Mother, it’s right here. It’s just broken.

Jordan took a final glance in the mirror, adjusting his bow tie. “Will I do, Kamil?” he asked his valet.

Kamil smiled, the skin wrinkling around his eyes. “Your Highness looks very handsome. I’m sure you’ll have many requests to dance.”

But not the one he wanted. The best dance partner he’d ever had was thousands of miles away.

He glanced at the clock. “I need to go.” Kamil gave his tux one final inspection, then Jordan walked out of his room, and through the hallways, heading for the ballroom, the sound of music and chatter growing louder as he drew closer. His parents had asked him to be the last to arrive, to make a suitable entrance.

The footman bowed as he approached. “Let me signal your entry, Your Highness.” He opened the door and peered around it, waving. Moments later, horns erupted in a royal fanfare. When they fell silent, Jordan stepped through the doors as the footman said in a loud voice, “His Royal Highness, Prince Jordan.”

Jordan walked into the room amid rapturous applause, and he smiled at his guests, nodding to them as he walked to the table where his father awaited him, beaming. His mother wore a turquoise gown, complemented by his grandmother’s jewels around her neck.

His father stood and hugged him. “And here is the man of the hour. Your timing is perfect. The dancing can now begin.”

Jordan was in no mood to dance. “Maybe later?”

His father frowned. “Unfortunately, tradition dictates that you cannot sit this one out. It is your task to start the first dance.”

Jordan swallowed. “I don’t have a partner.” He glanced at the throng of assembled guests who stood around the room, watching him.

“Perhaps I can help with that,” his father murmured.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Your Highness?” came a voice from behind him.

He froze. It can’t be. Jordan whirled around, and came face-to-face with Stuart, resplendent in his tux.

Warmth infused him, and his heart raced. “What are you doing here?”

Stuart shrugged. “I got an invitation, and I had nothing better to do, seeing as I’d just quit my job, so I thought, what the hell, why not?” He grinned. “Well? Are we dancing or not?” Stuart held out his hand, and Jordan took it, allowing Stuart to lead him to the center of the dance floor.

It was like something in one of his mother’s old movies. The crowd of guests moved back, giving them room, and Stuart put one hand on Jordan’s waist.

“I know you can waltz beautifully,” he murmured. “So let’s give them a show.”

Then he was moving fluidly over the floor, and Jordan moved with him, his head in a spin, caught up in the gorgeous melody, his heart as light as air as the guests applauded them.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Any second now, I’ll wake up and discover it was a dream.”

Stuart pulled him a little closer, and Jordan breathed in his familiar scent, a mixture of his cologne and a woodsy, spicy aroma that was all Stuart. “Now do you believe?” Stuart whispered.

“Who invited you?”

Stuart grinned. “Your father. He called me. Said he had an urgent assignment for me.” His eyes sparkled. “Apparently I had to come here and fix a broken heart.” He leaned in, his breath warm on Jordan’s neck. “Actually, I’m a little in need of the same treatment. You see, I made a terrible mistake a few weeks back.”

“What did you do?”

Stuart’s breathing quickened as he drew back. “I let someone walk out of my life.”

Jordan’s heart pounded. “Someone important?”

Stuart nodded. “And I’ve been miserable without him.”

His words finally sank in. “Wait—you quit your job?” Stuart nodded again. “But… what will you do now?”

Stuart smiled, and the sight sent heat flooding through him. “I can’t be expected to answer such questions when I’m dancing with a beautiful man.” He leaned in once more. “With my boy.”

Jordan’s heart soared to hear the words he thought he’d lost forever.

The music came to an end, and Stuart bowed. Jordan did the same, and applause rippled around the room. Then guests thronged onto the dance floor, and the music started up again.

“Let’s sit this one out.” Stuart led him to the table where his parents sat. His father smiled as they took their seats, and signaled for champagne.

“How long will you stay in Elloria?” Jordan demanded.

Stuart laughed. “I just got here.”

“Let the poor man breathe, Jordan,” his mother exclaimed. “And now that you’ve opened the ball officially, perhaps you’ll mingle with your guests and thank them for coming?” She stood. “I’ll accompany you.”

Jordan wasn’t a fool. “Of course, Mother.” He got to his feet, glancing at Stuart, who gazed back at him, his face calm.

“I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Good. Because I shall want to dance.” He wanted to talk, but he could see someone else did too. Jordan held out his hand to his mother and led her away from the table.

Please, Father, don’t scare him off too.

Jordan didn’t think his heart could stand losing Stuart again.

Stuart sipped his champagne, awaiting the king’s next move.

Because something was coming.

The king gestured to where Jordan and his mother circulated. “That’s the first time in six weeks that I’ve seen him smile. And that’s down to you.”

“That was why you invited me, wasn’t it? To put a smile on his face?” He’d said as much when he’d shown Stuart to his room.

“I had to do something. He was so unhappy. But seeing you together… I will be honest, Stuart. I am torn.”

Stuart looked him in the eye. “The last time we talked in New York, you paid me a compliment. You said how pleasant it was to be with someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Maybe it’s time for you to speak yours?” It was a bold move, but this was no time for protocol and royal etiquette.

King Ludomir glanced around them. “I believe we cannot be overheard, or else I would take this conversation elsewhere.” He put down his glass. “Let us not—how does the phrase go?—beat about the bush. I am a king. I have eyes and ears everywhere, even when I’m in a hotel on foreign soil.”

That settled that question. “And yet you said nothing.”

The king nodded. “Because for the first time in his life, Jordan was truly happy. He’d spent so long trying to scratch a particular itch, I felt it was time to take his gloves off and let him at it.” His lips twitched. “I hadn’t realized how much scratching would be required.”

Stuart almost spluttered champagne all over the tablecloth.

“I am only now realizing the depth of your… relationship,” King Ludomir continued. “When we said goodbye in New York, I thought that was an end to it. I had no idea how much you had come to mean to him. And the only reason we are having this conversation is, until you danced together just now, I hadn’t realized how much he means to you.” He locked gazes with Stuart. “He means a great deal, doesn’t he?”

“More than I can put into words, Your Majesty.”

“When you arrived today, and we spoke, I thought I was fully aware of the situation. Then I saw the two of you together. That was when I knew.” Stuart gave him a speculative glance, and the king sighed. “That whatever this was in the beginning, it has moved on since.” Another direct gaze. “Now, hearts are involved.” He took a drink from his glass. “And now that you’re here, I fear your departure will plunge him into a depression that would render us incapable of helping him.” He swallowed. “I would have you stay forever if I had the power to make it so, but… I must think of Jordan’s future.”

Stuart straightened, suddenly aware of what was coming at him from right around the corner. “You’re worried about the difference in our ages,” he said, striving to maintain a calm expression.

The king nodded. “You know more of these things than I do. For all I know, such relationships are common.”

“They’re not the norm, Your Majesty, but they do occur.”

“Please see this from my point of view, Stuart. He’s twenty-one, you’re forty. But what about when he’s forty? Sixty?” He stared across the ballroom at Jordan. “My son isn’t thinking ahead. He only sees the here and now. But I’m thinking of his pain when you shuffle off this earth before him.”

“Can I point something out here?” Stuart leaned forward. “There are no absolutes, Your Majesty. None of us can know when our lives will end. For all you know, Jordan could die in his thirties, from something neither of us saw coming.”

The king frowned. “You’re right, of course.”

“And there’s something else I must say.” Stuart took a deep breath. “I didn’t intend getting involved with a younger man. To be truthful, I didn’t intend getting involved with any man. And I was never interested in younger men, but something in your son couldn’t be ignored.” He straightened. “So here I am, and yes, I’ll admit it—hearts are involved. The only promises I can make, are that I will never hurt him—not on purpose, at any rate—and I will do everything in my power to make him happy.” He glanced at Jordan. “We have another saying. I don’t know if you’ve ever come across it.” Stuart smiled as he returned his gaze to the king. “‘The heart wants what it wants.’”

King Ludomir’s eyes grew warm. “Emily Dickinson. Wise words.” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “In that case, the solution is simple.” He smiled. “You cannot leave.”

Stuart laughed. “And how do you propose to bring about that miracle, Your Majesty?”

The king’s eyes gleamed. “Actually? I have an idea.”

Jordan approached the royal table with trepidation. Stuart and his father had appeared to be in the middle of a serious conversation, but both smiled as he joined them.

“You asked a question earlier,” his father began. “You wanted to know how long Stuart would remain with us.” He beamed. “I believe we have an answer for you.”

His mother’s breathing hitched, and she stared at his father.

Jordan’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Okay.”

Stuart held Jordan’s hand, and the intimate gesture in sight of his parents sent a thrill through him. “Your father informs me that the Head of Security—Leopold?” Jordan nodded, and Stuart continued. “It seems Leopold is retiring, and they’re looking for a replacement.” His eyes glittered. “Apparently, there’s someone in the palace who keeps getting away with murder, and your father feels security needs overhauling and beefing up.”

Jordan’s breathing hitched. “You’re going to be my bodyguard again?”

His father coughed. “No, that won’t be possible, I’m afraid. Stuart will be assigning you a new bodyguard. Actually, he has a unique idea about that.” He grinned. “I think a female bodyguard sounds wonderful.”

Stuart nodded. “If she’s open to the idea, I know the very person. She’s a retired Marine.” He flashed Jordan a smile. “She’ll watch your back.” Stuart inclined his head toward the orchestra. “Another waltz, Your Highness? With your permission, Your Majesties.”

King Ludomir got to his feet and stood beside them. He took Jordan’s hand, and placed it in Stuart’s. “I will repeat what I said to you in New York, Stuart: take care of my son. For now you hold his heart in your hands.”

His mother’s face glowed.

Stuart gave a short bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Then he led Jordan onto the dance floor, only this time Stuart held him close as they circled, their cheeks pressed together.

“Happy?”

Jordan laughed. “If I’d felt as though I were in a dream before, now I am certain of it.” He glanced back to where his father stood watching them.

What does this mean?

“I wish you could have seen all the subterfuge taking place this afternoon, to keep me hidden from you,” Stuart said with a grin. “Your father showed me to my room.”

Jordan blinked. “He did?”

Stuart nodded. Then he leaned closer, and his lips brushed Jordan’s ear. “He went to great pains to point out its proximity to your room, in case of emergencies.”

Jordan had to fight the urge to react. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

“I think he knew in LA, but now I know he does. And why do you think I won’t be your bodyguard? Not exactly the done thing, having your son sleeping with the guy who’s supposed to be protecting him.” Another whisper. “And I will be sleeping with you, unless you have any objections?”

“None whatsoever.” Then his breathing caught as Stuart whirled him around and around, until he felt his heart would burst with happiness. When the music ended, Stuart came to a halt and held him close. Jordan looked him in the eye. “Seriously… how long do you think you will stay in Elloria?”

Stuart returned his forthright gaze. “Until you ask me to leave.”

Jordan smiled. “Then you’re going to be here for a long, long time.”