Page 57 of The Prince of New York

“Ian, sometimes, all it takes for someone to prove how capable they are is an opportunity to do so. No parent knows anything about raising children until they have children. Some people think they can because they helped to raise siblings, but even then, it’s not the same. There are some good resources I can get for you to help you expand your basic education, but you have the important parts figured out. You were worried the girls were sick, so you took them to the doctor. That’s a good start. You removed them from a dangerous environment, and for no reason other than you could, you adopted them. I know you’re stressed and anxious, but do try to have a little faith in yourself. You’re doing the right things, and you’re even doing them in the right ways. You are not at fault for what happened to your little girls, but you took responsibility for it. You could have put them into fostering. You didn’t. You took custody. I don’t recommend yanking custody every time you’re asked to oversee a trial like that, but you did what any empath would have done, and you did it without a fuss. Had His Royal Majesty of Montana been there? There would have been a fuss. He also wouldn’t have handled the medical examination portion of things nearly as well as you.”

“I’m concerned about how Daphne is going to react.”

“Daphne is on her way to Montana, and she’ll be flying the horse plane over tomorrow night. Fortunately, that’s keeping Alaska and Montana out of the kingdom until then at the earliest. Terry thought it was wise to get her out of the kingdom, at least long enough for the parents to be put in prison. She might try to eradicate them, and you don’t need a murder case on your hands.” Dr. Stanton herded me to the waiting area and found a pair of seats, encouraging me to sit. “Once Melody is done with the MRIs, we’ll swap, and she’ll brief you on the severity, any precautions we’ll need to take at the palace, and set up a diet plan. They are probably suffering from malnutrition.”

Thanks to my intolerance for alcohol, I’d combatted malnutrition most of my life. My sister had as well, although to a lesser degree.

When I hadn’t been dunking her into the nearest body of water, I’d been plying her with every snack I could get my hands on. I questioned why my parents had provided an unlimited supply of beef jerky, but most of it had vanished into my sister’s cavernous stomach rather than mine.

“Remind me to buy beef jerky,” I muttered.

“For you, the kids, or your sister?”

“All of the above.”

“Wait until we get them to a dentist before sending them down the dark road of beef jerky. Let’s not add broken teeth to the mix,” she advised.

Damn it. “Think you can convince someone to do a run to Lancaster for beef jerky? I think we’re going to need the tough stuff, Dr. Stanton.”

Laughing and shaking her head, she got out her phone and sent a text. “I’ll make sure you have something to chew on. Once we find out how much mending is going to be needed, and if His Royal Majesty of Maine can take over the work, I’ll take you to the palace and you can work out your nerves melting some metal down. The girls are going to need you to be calm and collected.”

I nodded. “I’ll do my work before I crash out, assuming we aren’t here all night.”

“You won’t be. I’ll be kicking you out at midnight at the latest. Really, I need confirmation if we can get them out of here by midnight. It depends on the severity. I won’t have them separated unless necessary for treatments, so if Baby can’t leave, neither can May. It would stress them both too much.”

If the doctor said it would stress the children too much, I believed her. I checked my watch, determining I would only be waiting four hours before being kicked out of the hospital. “All right. I’ll wait until midnight, and I’ll grab dinner at the cafeteria here if the RPS can tolerate me eating bad hospital food.”

“There is a fast food joint next door, and I’ll go with you. I could use some fast food after today. The MRIs will take a while, and taking you out for fast food will keep you out of the way. Sitting here versus sitting there won’t make any difference, and it’ll be better for you mentally. Waiting rooms have a way of adding to the stress, and I’d rather avoid stressing you more than necessary.”

“That sounds like a plan. I won’t tell my sister if you don’t.”

“Honestly, I expect your sister to show up, and I’ll be encouraging her to eat her feelings. Today has been a roller coaster, and I’m not above using forbidden fruit to keep you both sound.”

“Let’s just warn the RPS agents, that way they know where to drop my sister off.” I spotted a pair of agents, two of whom I believed were empaths but tended to hover near Rachel. I got up, headed over, and joined them in being wallflowers. “Hospital food is bad enough Dr. Stanton would prefer me to risk the fast food joint next door. Is my sister coming?”

The one nearest me nodded, and he replied, “We notified her after the girls went through triage. She should be here in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to redirect her to the fast food joint?”

“Please do. I’ve been told I will be out of here by midnight, with or without the girls, so we’ll plan accordingly. I’ll make a decision if I leave sooner after I have a chance to talk with Melody.”

Dr. Stanton strode over, checking her phone. “I am expecting you to drink at least two large sodas, Ian. You’ll need the sugar when you do your melting work at the palace. If they sell milkshakes, you can have as many as will fit into your stomach.”

Had someone told me a doctor would be ordering me to binge on milkshakes as a child, I would have laughed from disbelief. “How did Rachel handle the news?”

“Poorly,” the RPS agent warned me. “She got a lawyer out of bed, informed him he would be pursuing every charge against their parents possible, and would have rampaged had His Royal Majesty not intervened. His suggestion to come support you got her to change directions, but she is furious. It was one thing for them to be bruised, but for their parents to bar the children from seeing a doctor? Unacceptable. We’ve already reached out to her therapist about the situation.”

“She likely thinks our parents beat me to the same extent, where in reality, they limited where I took the hits. I was at no real risk of internal injury. I got a swat or two to the upper chest, but those were accidental, and our parents kept a close eye on me when that happened. If I had any type of trauma to my abdomen or chest from an accident, they always immediately took me to a doctor to be checked. I’m not condoning what they did, but therearedifferences that need to be acknowledged. My parents abused us with a goal in mind. Their parents just wanted to hurt their children.”

Dr. Stanton sighed. “I fear he’s correct. There is zero evidence in the royal medical records that the former monarchs ever hit their children in such a way that might cause dangerous or significant injury. It was meant to hurt and only hurt. That doesn’t change the fact Her Majesty and His Royal Highness were abused, but it puts the abuse into two different categories. Baby could have easily passed away overnight without intervention, and only Ian’s diligence is preventing that. What did the empaths in the courthouse report upon Prince Ian giving his verdict?”

The RPS agents exchanged glances, which I translated to mean they didn’t want to discomfort me. “It was relief, wasn’t it? They were glad to get rid of their children. Both of them.”

Both agents grimaced before nodding.

Bastards. “Dr. Stanton, I want you and Melody to work with my sister’s lawyer to concoct every single charge you can. I want the list of charges more robust than the list California drafted against Cassandra’s parents. If this level of abuse is happening to Baby and May, it’s happening to other children, and I will do everything I can to see it stopped. That means we crucify their parents in the public eye and make certain they pay for their crimes—and educate people on how much ruination they will face for beating their children. No child deserves that.”

“Not even you,” Dr. Stanton murmured.

I eyed the woman, met her gaze, and accepted her point with a nod. “Not even me.”

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