corridors. “Right before you came in, I’d figured out that I need to talk to my people. Listen to them, actually.”
“Weren’t you just doing that?”
“Let’s say I want to hear from a different cross section. People who care more about living good, happy, productive lives than the perception of royalty.”
“Average Joes?”
Christian winced, sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I hate to call anyone average. Everyone has a story. Something that makes them special.” He cocked his head, considering. “Do people named Joe tend to speak their mind more readily? Why should I seek out Joes?”
Her laughter pealed down the hallway, making the footmen they passed glance up, smiling. “It’s just a saying. In America, Joe’s a common name. A shortcut to describe an utterly average person.”
“I’m going to find a way to use that on Kelsey. I bet she’ll be impressed at my vast knowledge.”
“Give it a whirl.”
“We used to go out, in town, and mingle much more often. This is our city, our people. It’s important to stay in touch. But since Kelsey’s return—the RPS went into overdrive worrying if we’d be targets for whoever originally kidnapped her—and then the shooting, well, security’s been amped up. Which is a long way of explaining that I feel cut off.”
Mallory peeked over her shoulder at Gregor and Sofia. “We’re not climbing out a window and losing them, are we? I mean, I’m game for whatever. I just need to know the plan.”
“No. They can do their job. But I still need to do mine, too. And that’s listening to my subjects. I’m not scared of them.”
Shit. As soon as that assertion came out of his mouth, Christian remembered.
That a fact he’d so calmly stated—security being increased post-shooting—was personal. It was Mallory who got shot. And it was Mallory who therefore might not be quite so…cavalier about security. Being surrounded in a crowd of strangers.
“I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. Are you scared to go out because of the shooting?”
Her fingers tightened around his. “If I were scared, I wouldn’t have come back to Moncriano.”
“Really? I hear the crown prince is quite the draw,” he said, tongue firmly lodged in his cheek.
“He’s okay.” She paused. Sighed. “I mean, for a guy who still lives at home with his family.”
“Ouch. I’d call that a direct hit to my ego.” Christian reeled dramatically through the portico door. Considered his jacket and tie, knew they’d just annoy the fuck out of him, and removed them and gave them to the footman.
“Look, do I still jump at loud noises? Yes. Do I have more anxiety than an average Joe?” Mallory asked, elbowing him in the ribs. “Yes. But in the U.S.? There we have mass shootings at movie theaters and music festivals. It’s no safer there. At least here I have someone guarding me.”
“I’m glad to hear you feel…safe enough.”
“But I am scared about talking to people. The entire country hates me now. Can I just sit in a dark corner while you do your listening?”
He knew she was braver than that. “Nope. If they’re bent out of shape about the peacock, we’ll hear them out. You’ll apologize. I’ll apologize. And then we’ll move on.” Christian handed her a helmet. “Here. Tuck your hair in. People would put together pretty fast that it’s you and me when they see that fire-bright hair streaming through the twilight.”
“I’ve never ridden a motorcycle.”
It gave him a jolt of pleasure to know he was introducing Mallory to something he loved. “Lean into the curves, not away from them. And hang on tight. We’re headed to the docks.”
“Are we getting on a ship?”
“No. But take away the title and the job I’m subbing in for, and I’m just a sailor at heart. Navy man, remember? When I want opinions, I head down to the water’s edge.” Christian checked the strap on her helmet. He wasn’t taking any chances with her. Then he tossed a salute of apology at Gregor, who hated motorcycles, but had no choice but to hop on and follow.
Ten minutes later, they were parked by the entrance to the shipping docks. Not the yacht marina, full of crew members from various countries. No, these men and women were Moncriano through and through, running the tugboats and cranes, fishing and daytripper boats. Hopefully he’d catch a good number in the end-of-day scrum headed into a pub.
“How’d you like it?” he asked, taking Mallory’s helmet to set on the handlebar opposite his own.