Hot Heir_A Royal Bodyguard Secret Heir Marriage of Convenience Romantic Comedy by Pippa Grant

Author:Pippa Grant [Grant, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

23

Viktor

I’ve searched the armory and enlisted Alexander and Samuel to help search the family areas again, to no avail.

Papaya has quite effectively disappeared.

Unlike Meemaw, whom I walked in on whilst she was waxing her legs. “I hear Thomas likes everything smooth,” she told me.

The things a man wishes he didn’t know.

Peach has texted that Papaya is not, in fact, in the kitchens, and also that even if she had been there, we would probably all be none the wiser for the taste and texture of the food. Last evening’s dinner of fried squashballs and rubbery heartdogs—yes, hot dogs that appeared to have been formed in a heart-shaped tube instead of in a round casing—would suggest she’s correct.

Eight palace guards have joined the hunt. They’ve requested I stay in my quarters until the girl is found, which is as infuriating as it is ridiculous. So I’ve set off to search the southeast wing, which is roped off for abandoned renovations. I’ve cleared the dusty ballroom, with its faded frescoed walls and cracked stained glass heart windows hidden behind tarps and spider webs crossing from chandelier to chandelier to obscure the gilded ceiling, and am on my way toward the music room when I hear a thump and a scream.

I dash down the vaulted corridor, past long-dead flowers in dusty vases and decorative suits of armor that are draped in velvet vests with embroidered hearts about them, and I turn into the grand hallway, where Peach has flung herself before a knight and is screeching at the palace guards to stop.

Six of them have weapons drawn.

The knight—in full plated body armor—stomps once more, rattling the metal as it lifts a saber precariously.

“Your Majesty, stay back,” one of them barks in German.

“Get back!” Peach yells again.

“Stand down,” I order, striding into the room.

The knight is about to take Peach’s head off.

“Your Majesty—” another guard yells as they circle tighter around Peach and her knight.

Which trips, wobbles clumsily, and yanks at Peach’s arm as it topples over. There’s a mighty metallic crash, and Peach makes a strangled cry as she lands on her hip on top of the knight.

“Stand down,” I repeat.

“I swear to sweet baby Groot, if any one of you shoots, I’ll have your head on a platter and serve it up to your mother before she can say boo,” Peach yells despite her wince and her struggle to regain her composure. “And Papaya Mango Maloney, you are grounded until the end of time, and then you’re grounded again after the next Big Bang happens, and then you’re fucking grounded into infinity.”

I disarm the first guard with too much ease and turn the weapon on the guard beside him. “Stand. Down.” I snarl the order first in German, then Italian.

The remaining guards drop their weapons and back up. I kick Papaya’s sword out of the way and help Peach to her feet. “Are you hurt?” I ask.

“Other than having about eighteen heart attacks and four strokes, I’m just fine.”

“Quite peachy, then?”

She slugs me in the arm.

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