If she stayed.
“Thank you, Clara,” Genevieve murmured as she knelt. And that earned her about two hundred points back in the not a total bitch column. Because three minutes ago, Kelsey would’ve assumed that there was no way Genny knew the name of her bodyguard.
“So why are you two out here?” If it was to drop some other horrific secret on her, well, Kelsey still hadn’t recovered from yesterday’s big suicide-on-her-birthday reveal. She’d quite possibly grab Mallory and make a run for it.
“Elias requested I join you.” Christian looked vaguely amused. “He never asks for favors. Ever. I couldn’t turn him down.”
“Elias?” she said, swiveling to face him in shock. This asking a favor of his friend thing—on her behalf—seemed huge. Not an optimal way to keep their relationships under wraps, either.
He took a miniscule step forward. “I thought Your Highness might like to learn a bit about the queen as you saw her grave for the first time. Something personal, not in the official histories. Family stories. A way to feel her presence here.”
“That’d be really, really nice.” Kelsey hadn’t wanted to come out and ask anyone. Yes, the woman had been dead for more than twenty years. But she didn’t want to accidentally pick at an emotional scab. It didn’t feel like she had the right. Not yet. So this was yet another gift from the man who knew what she wanted and needed before she even realized it herself.
She couldn’t wait to get Elias alone to thank him.
“Genny here just tagged along. Uninvited.” Christian pulled out a few blades of grass and blew them at her from his palm. “She’s a brat that way.”
Kelsey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Their true brother/sister dynamic was showing, and it delighted her. It was as if they’d left their titles back in their bedrooms with the formal clothes. This was real family time. It was the key to her actually connecting to them.
Shrugging one shoulder, Genevieve said, “We almost never talk about her anymore. For a while, Papa made an effort, but once we were grown, he stopped. So yes, I want to hear the stories, too. Don’t be an ass about it, Christian.”
“Don’t give Kelsey the wrong impression of me.”
“I get the feeling she’s capable of coming to her own wrong impressions, without any help.”
Was that a dig? Because she didn’t let Genevieve run roughshod over her? Or because she’d perhaps lobbed back semi-bitchiness every time it came her way?
Point taken.
And thus, olive branch extended. “I’ll take all the help I can get. In every aspect of learning about this family.” Then Kelsey noticed that Mallory was sitting ramrod straight, the tips of her toes pointed. A bow with a cocked arrow had less tension than her sister. That needed to stop right-the-hell now. “I’d like to start, though, with you two learning about my family. This amazing woman next to me.”
“Kelsey, shush.” Mallory’s cheeks reddened to near-fire.
“No. If I’m going to get to know them, they need to get to know you. We’ve had time to get over the shock, the weirdness of being in each other’s lives. Now we’re a blended, modern royal family. Breaking new ground, charting new territory. None of it matters, though, unless we act like a true family. Unless we learn to care, learn what makes each of us special and awesome and lovable.”
Genevieve curled her legs underneath her, then she looked Kelsey directly in the eyes. “I will give you free rein to borrow anything in my closet—for a day—if you give that speech to our grandmother. Two days, if you let me watch.”
“Heck, no.” Relieved laughter gurgled out. “I’m passionate, not self-destructive. I’ve got a feeling the ‘missing Princess Valentina’ would never reappear to the country if I did that.”
“I have a dozen pairs of Louboutins. In case you change your mind…”
The shoes weren’t tempting in the least. Bringing out this playful side of Genny, however, was. Kelsey curled her fingers around the seat of the bench and leaned forward. “I just want to start with you two so my brother and sister learn to respect and like my other sister.”
“Here, here,” Christian said. “I, for one, would be fascinated to learn about Miss Wishner.”
“Huh-uh.” Kelsey was on a streak, and she’d push it as far as possible. “Her name’s Mallory. I understand protocol, yada, yada, yada, but when it’s just us? Use her name. Please. All this formality only puts another wall between us.”
Shockingly, it wasn’t Christian that responded first. Genevieve scooted a little closer. “All right then, Mallory, tell us one of your favorite things about Kelsey. And vice versa.”
“Oh, she’ll hate that. I’d better move so I don’t get pinched.” With a smirk, Mallory jumped up and hustled over to stand by Christian.
Kelsey allowed herself another swift and significant eyebrow waggle at Elias. Then she took a deep breath and held it, because yes, she absolutely hated having the spotlight turned on her. This reversal of praise was not her plan at all.
“She never puts herself first. It sounds selfish for me to say that, doesn’t it?” Mallory rubbed at her chest, biting her bottom lip. “I guess it’s more that she doesn’t think of herself as better, or more important than anyone else. Kelsey always asks how my day is first, even if something big and horrific happened to her. She always lets people with a handful of items cut in front of her at the grocery store. When I’m talking to her, I’m confident I’ve got her full attention—and will, for as long as I need it. She makes me—and everyone—feel valued and important and seen.”
Kelsey jumped up to deliver a tackle-hug. As they landed on the grass, she said, “I hated hearing it. But I love that you feel it.”
“Well said, indeed.” Christian applauded. “Kelsey, what did you want to tell us about Mallory?”
“I’m not as eloquent. Mine’s more bullet points. She can stretch a dollar further than anyone. I can’t even explain her magic way with numbers, but she’s a whiz. She’s such a good baker that she placed five years in a row at the state fair. And she bends over backwards to support me no matter what—including traipsing halfway across the world on ten minutes’ notice just so I wouldn’t be all alone here.”
“Very laudable,” Genevieve said. She even beamed a half smile at Mallory.
Christian, on the other hand, winced comically. “And an ironic segue to what I was going to share. Our mother was a horrible baker.”
Ooh, a personal freedom alert. Kelsey’s eyes widened. “She was allowed to cook? Sir Evan told me I wasn’t to go down to the kitchens even to grab a bag of chips.”