Royal Indiscretion, chapter 40 (Patreon)

Yves watched the traffic. He wondered if the people in the passing cars had their own dramas. He doubted they had to deal with a conflict as Shakespearean as a murderous family. Then again, maybe they did. Yves had very little experience with normal family life, and a fair number of the crime documentaries he’d watched involved spousal homicide. Now that Yves had experienced love—not lust but love and respect—he didn’t understand how anyone could go from that feeling to murder.

He watched Doug in profile. Even if their relationship didn’t work, Yves would never want him hurt. He was a good man. The irony was that his father would never see that. His father never bothered looking beyond a person’s exterior. “I've been thinking.”

Doug stopped at a red light. “About what?”

“My father will never be frightened of me. If he believes this threat coming from me, he will discount it as any real danger.” And then they would be in a kettle of rotten fish.

Doug frowned. “Don't underestimate yourself.”

“I assure you, this is not about my insecurities. Albert is a competent and intelligent man, and yet my father talks to him as if he were a child.”

“Your brother Albert?”

Yves wondered what life looked like from Albert’s point of view. Once Duke Gerard took the throne, he would be the crown prince, and yet their father largely ignored any request or suggestion Albert made. When Albert grew too rebellious, their father had shipped him out to a boarding school. Perhaps Yves was not the only victim of that household. “Yes. He served in the armed forces for five years and is a father of two. I suspect many in my country are looking forward to the day that Duke Gerard dies so that Albert might take the throne. He is popular and charismatic, and he is an ethical man.”

“It’s amazing Duke Gerard didn’t fuck him up.” Doug’s disgust was evident and reasonable. Looking back, Yves could see Hagan’s hand in that. He had hired the tutors and provided more of the discipline.

“And yet,” Yves said, “he cannot make a comment without our father questioning his intelligence for holding a particular position.” Yves remembered on meal after his brother had left the service. Their father had upbraided him for his views of the Tories as if Albert were not allowed a political position that differed from Duke Gerard’s own. At the time, Yves had simply been grateful someone else had drawn the Duke’s ire because that had been shortly after Yves proclaimed his sexual orientation to every reporter who would listen. “If the Duke believes I'm threatening him, he will counterattack swiftly and brutally because he will see my actions as a rebellion rather than a threat.”

Doug nodded slowly. “So he needs to believe the threat comes from me.”

“Which I hate because it puts you in more danger.” Yves ran a hand over his fact. The complexity of his life left him wanting the simplicity of drugs. The clarity they offered was an illusion, but sometimes the illusion was more palatable than reality. “Perhaps retreat would be a better strategy,” Yves said wearily.

“If your father is a coward, how do you think he's going to respond if we run?”

Unfortunately, Yves knew the answer to that because he had attempted to flee a number of times. “Exactly the way you predicted. He would endlessly harass me.” He paused before adding, “but he would leave you alone.” They were nearing the clinic, and as the car rolled through each block, Yves felt the tension in his stomach worsen.

“No. He wouldn't. Because if he's harassing you, that is going to endlessly be a thorn in my side. I am hoping that our lives are going to be tangled enough that what happens to one of us will happen to both.” Doug caught Yves’s hand and held it tightly. That point of contact gave Yves a lifeline that allowed him to fight down some, but not all, of the panic that crawled up his throat.

“As I am loath to say this, you will need to take the lead and provide the necessary threats. Duke Gerard is a coward with a blind spot when it comes to his children. He sees us as helpless extensions of himself.” Yves hadn’t realized that up until this moment, but once he had his epiphany, the pattern was laid out over his history. Albert was not allowed a different political position because he was nothing more than a piece of Duke Gerard. Yves was not allowed to be gay—to be an addict. Mary was the favorite child not because she was better but because she reflected well on the Duke by charming the press and other royals. It all came back to Duke Gerard.

“That's a rather large flaw,” Doug said.

“It is. A few centuries ago, it likely would have made him vulnerable to a coup.” Part of Yves regretted the lack of beheadings in the modern royal tradition. Then again, Duke Gerard would have beheaded him already had he been allowed. “These days, I suspect that his children truly are not a threat to him.”

Doug squeezed his hand. “Gerard may not know it, but you have the strength to take him on.”

“Perhaps I do. However, he will never see me that way. If my father believes that he is dealing with the threat from me, he will counterattack. Didn't you say that's what narcissists who are confident in themselves did?”

While Doug didn’t answer, his grimace revealed his thoughts.

“My father is confident in his ability to keep his children in line. However, he will be a coward if he believes that this threat is from you.”

“Gerard is an idiot if he thinks he can manipulate you,” Doug said with a dark laugh. “But I would be more than happy to play the part of the heavy.”

“Will that interfere with the good boy persona you have worked so hard to cultivate?” Yves would not allow his family drama to damage Doug any more than it already had. Doug had been labelled as gay in a country that still tolerated homophobia. He had lost the ability to travel freely and safely in Europe and had booked them a flight to Los Angeles at considerable cost since they needed to leave so quickly. And now he was offering to undo years of Caro’s work.

“Fuck my persona.”

Yves would never understand the American tendency to use sex as profanity. “I am tempted to say something rather crude about what I would prefer to fuck.” He said in his most proper tone.

“Go for it. I am always interested in little dirty talk from my partners.” Doug waggled his eyebrows comically.

Yves laughed. “I shall endeavor to keep that in mind for our next assignation.”

“How do you make SAT's words sounded so damn sexy?” Doug’s expression turned more salacious now.

“I suspect you are biased.”

“I suspect you are right.” Doug gave his hand another squeeze before letting go so he could turn into the parking garage of the Easton Genetic Testing Lab. This stop would definitely catch his father’s attention. Unfortunately, it had its own dangers. If anyone in the lab broke privacy laws and spoke to the press, King Alphonse would be furious at Yves for getting checked for any neurological disorders. Doug parked and waited at the back of the car while Yves collected his thoughts and drove his panic into the recesses of his mind. If someone offered him a hit of heroine right now, Yves would give them a huge kiss before sinking the needle into his arm.

But Nick always told him that courage was wanting one thing and doing another. He said that every morning they got up in the bitter cold to tend the animals when their own noses froze in seconds when the scarf slipped—that was courage. That was being a man. So it was time for Yves to be a man.

He got out of the car and held his head high as he joined Doug for their walk to the building’s entrance. Doug stopped in the shadow of the last pillar. Yves glanced around the corner of the concrete support to see two or three dozen reporters and photographers gathered. Doug whispered, “It looks like Caro managed to get the press out in force.”

Yves took several breaths and fought down the incipient panic. “I'm wondering what she said to get quite so many vultures gathered in one area.”

“With Caro, I find it is safest to not ask.”

Yves looked at Doug. “That does not make me feel any better.”

“I wasn't trying to make you feel better. I was trying to warn you that calling in Caro is a little like arming a nuclear device. You can only be certain up to a point that the fallout is not going to destroy all life on Earth.”

Yves laughed. “Can we turn her loose on my father?”

“She would enjoy it too much.” Doug shivered with horror. “I don't think I need Caro to get in touch with her more sadistic tendencies.” He angled his body toward Yves and asked solemnly, “Are you ready?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “But then I have rarely been ready for the major events that have defined my life.”

“That’s my Yves,” Doug said rather cryptically, but from the tone he meant it as a compliment. Yves wasn’t sure he was ready for someone to have a high opinion of him, but he straightened his shoulders and focused on getting through one moment at a time.

They walked toward the entrance, Yves a fraction ahead with Doug’s hand on his back. The second the reporters saw them, they swarmed. People shouted for attention. Cameras flashed. People jostled and closed ranks, blocking their path.

Doug stepped forward. “Can't people go anywhere without you lot descending on them?” More cameras flashed.

“Count Yves? Why are you coming to a genetic counseling center?” One voice called above the general din.

Yves looked over to Doug to answer that.

“That’s obvious. It's a genetic counseling center, we are coming to it. Therefore, we are seeking genetic counseling.” Doug snorted as if shocked at the stupidity of the question. Yves would have wilted under that tone, but the reporter didn’t even twitch.

Someone else yelled, “Why?”

Doug turned in the direction of the question. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Count Yves, you have been rather blunt in your sexual preference for men. I assume that means you haven't gotten a woman pregnant.”

That was so far afield that Yves smiled. “I assume that pregnancy still requires sex of some sort, so I will not be getting anyone pregnant,” Yves said primly.

“Are you looking to find a surrogate?” Someone else asked.

“Hang on there,” Doug said. “We haven't been dating long enough for you vultures to start setting us up with children, which is not to say I don't eventually want children with Count Stenbock.” Doug smiled at Yves. A number of camera flashes went off and that was definitely going to be the picture of the day.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Wasso? Could it be that you have a need for paternity test? You certainly have a reputation for being with a number of women.” An older woman asked.

“And I am scrupulous about having safe sex. I promise you there are no pregnant women in my past.” Doug smiled at Yves. “And there are no women at all in my present or foreseeable future.”

“Then why are you here?” Someone else called. The pack was starting to mill, looking for better angles, a closer shot.

Doug pinned the reporters and photographers with a sharp look. The intensity was so great that even Yves could feel the discomfort in the marrow of his bones, and the look wasn't aimed at him. “Count Yves and I are dealing with a difficult situation. We have some information, but I never like to believe anyone unless I can confirm it independently. And since we don't definitively know anything, I would ask that you give us time to investigate that which needs investigating.” That made most of the reporters hesitate. They couldn’t parse the meaning of that sentence, and that was the whole point. No doubt King Alphonse and Duke Gerard and Hagan would all make certain assumptions, and likely not the same one. Yves didn’t know what the press or general public might think.

“What does that mean?” A brave reporter finally yelled.

Doug put his hand on the small of Yves’s back, urging him forward before Doug moved slightly ahead and played the part of a bulldozer. He was such a physically intimidating man that most of the reporters stepped back. “I don't believe it's any of your business,” Doug said. “Count Yves has decided to move to the US and make a life outside the court. As long as he is choosing to be a private citizen, you don’t have any right to his privacy or his attention. So, kindly move out of our way.” His words were polite, but there was a coldness in his voice that sent a shiver up Yves’s spine.

A clinic employee was waiting at the door, and he opened it for them and then blocked the reporters from following. In the relative safety of the dimly lit lobby with its generic art, Yves’s heart started to pound faster.

Doug caught both his hands and stepped right in front of him. “Hey, we did it. We set the trap and laid the bait and now your father knows that coming after us is dangerous. It’s all good.”

Yves nodded, but that didn’t untie the knot in his stomach.