cooling rack, turned off the heat, hung up the mitt, then turned to Yuri. “You pay my wages, sir. You have since that day. Or, rather, your trust does, as I understand it. I work for you. I’ve worked for you this past decade and more. My loyalty is with the one I serve.”
Yuri sat down hard on one of the kitchen chairs. “Oh,” he said in a soft voice.
“I report to no one, sir. Not to Tanzhir and not to Mirea. Not even to Angelo’s mother, who has been a good friend for most of my life. I tell your secrets to no one. Not even to Angelo, although I daresay he already knows nearly all of them. My loyalty, first and last, is with you.”
“Oh,” Yuri said again. “I… see.” He swiped at his burning eyes. “I… that’s good, Philippe. Good. I—”
Yuri was interrupted by noise at the front door. He stood and both he and Philippe went to look. They saw Roger supporting a somewhat sagging Angelo, who was trying to brush him off. “I’m fine,” Angelo insisted. “Let go.”
“No,” Roger said firmly. “Just so everyone knows, I’ve rung for an ambulance.”
“What?” Yuri asked faintly.
“Roger, what’s happened to the prince?” Philippe demanded to know.
“It’s nothing serious. Just a scratch.” Angelo kept trying, unsuccessfully, to pull out of Roger’s grasp.
Roger was having none of it. “Nothing serious, he says. Yes, sir. You were only stabbed by a lunatic. Nothing serious about that. Only a small stabbing. Nothing at all to worry about.”
Yuri felt the world around him start to gray at the edges. He fought it, but the grayness closed in and pulled him under. He had a thought that it would hurt when his head hit the wooden floor, but someone caught him on the way down.
He heard someone snort inelegantly. “Matching hospital beds for the two of them, I suppose.”
Then Yuri heard no more, and the last thing he felt was someone stroking the hair away from his forehead and assuring him that everything would be fine, but the voice didn’t sound at all convinced of its own sincerity.
28
Angelo Is a Pillock
Regardless of his past loyalties, Angelo had no doubt that Yuri would be safe as houses with Philippe. It was obvious to everyone, except perhaps Yuri, that Philippe saw the young prince as a sort of surrogate son. Not terribly surprising, seeing as he had been a birth gift from Angelo's parents. They'd wanted eyes within the Mirean palace, but it clearly had never occurred to them that Philippe might change his loyalties. It was possible the man still spied for the king and queen of Tanzhir, but Angelo doubted it.
Sitting on the front steps, smoking a cigarette, was Roger. Perfect. It would save Angelo from having to bother Yuri's security.
“I'm taking a walk,” Angelo said.
Roger nodded and joined him on the pavement. “Any particular location we're to visit?”
“Just need to give Yuri some time, that's all.”
“Very good, sir.”
They walked along the streets of Oxford while talking very little, but it was a companionable silence.
Roger looked at his watch. “It's been thirty minutes. Should we go further or turn back?”
“Let's go back. Philippe was baking lemon drizzle cake and I'd like to have at least a piece before Yuri gobbles the entire thing.”
“Very good, sir,” Roger said with a snort of amusement.
They turned the corner onto Yuri's street and saw a man approach Yuri's house.
“Now, who might that be?” Roger asked.
“I'm not sure, but… dammit.” Angelo took off running toward the man, Roger right on his heels.
“Sir, stop. You need to stop now. This isn't safe—”
“Bugger that.” Angelo knew who the man had to be. “Blackheath. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
“You!” Lord Dickface hissed in fury. “You aren't wanted here.”
“Kinda beg to differ. I have an invitation. You don't.”
Blackheath tried to look imperious but Angelo was entirely immune. “You have no way of knowing what I do and don't have. My relationship with the prince is private. Of course he doesn't talk about me to you, but why would he? You're nothing to him. An obligation to be borne. I can free him from a life he doesn't want.”
That made Angelo want to be sick. “How? By killing him?”
“How dare you. You may be the prince of some little jumped-up country no one's ever heard of but that means nothing to me. Yuri's mine.”
“Fuck. That. He’s mine. Find another pretty boy to terrorize.”
Lord Dickface eyed him coldly. “Where else can I find