Page 65 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Mor shook his head. “It’s not just that I must do this myself, Cress, it’s that Iwantto do this myself. He is my greatest enemy, and I am his. This has always been between me and him, and I wish to defeat him fairly.”

“That sounds like a statement that’s about to get you killed,” Cress remarked.

Mor ran his fingers through his hair again. “I want to deal with my past and burn it with my own two hands. I wish I could forget it all, but I can’t. And I’ll never feel settled about it unless I end things.”

Cress nodded slowly. “I suppose I can allow that. But soon, I’ll have to get involved against your wishes, Mor. And when that moment comes, I will do whatever is necessary to keep you. I will even trade that human for you.” He nodded toward the stairs, and Mor’s eyes flashed at the words. “He seems to want something from her,” Cress added.

Mor shook his head. “Don’t.” A half growl, half plea. “Don’t do that. That is not a noble trade.”

Cress studied Mor. “Is that really why you don’t want me to? Because I couldn’t care less about being noble these days.”

“I would consider it a betrayal.” Mor clasped his hands together and squeezed them. “Because you know I want to keep her alive.”

Cress stared too long and hard until Mor dropped his gaze again.

After a moment, the Prince’s low voice filled the living space. “You know you have to send her away if you want her to live. Keeping her in such an easily penetrable place is like dangling hogmeat before a starving crossbeast. Send her to Shayne. He’s secretly worried about her survival, you know.”

“Why?” Mor sighed.

“Because Shayne knows you. He knows what it’ll do to you if you get a human killed.”

Cress had a look in his eye, one Mor had seen before. One that promised the moment Mor gave the go-ahead word to Cress, this war would look very different.

Mor dragged his blanket over and unrolled it. He kicked off his boots and laid back on the couch, draping the thin fabric over himself.

“You three better make sure you’re out of here early in the morning. I’m not sure how I’ll explain this absurd sleepover if Violet wakes up and catches us all,” he said to change the subject.

Cress smirked and unfolded his own blanket. “Tell her to mind her own human business. Tell her it’s brothers before lovers and all that.”

Mor rolled his head to glance at Cress. “I don’t think that’s how the human expression goes.”

“It is. Kate’s-brother-Greyson said it,” Cress said.

It took Mor a moment of thinking before he spoke again. “I think it’sbros before hoes. I heard Greyson say it also.”

Cress’s face scrunched. “Hoes? What are hoes?”

Mor shrugged. “It must be how human males refer to their women.”

Cress was quiet for a long while, nodding and thinking that over.

29

Violet Miller and a Morning Sip of Fun and Doom

Violet had possibly gone too far, but she needed Mor to keep her. She wasn’t sure how he’d react once he found out what she did. He’d been so adamant about keeping everyone away from his cathedral, and Violet had flushed that hope of his down the toilet. He’d find that out soon enough.

The morning was cooler than normal, leaving the bedroom window covered in dew. Violet sifted through the duffle bag Mor had packed of her clothes until she found a clean shirt, a loose pink sweater, and a pair of blush jeans. Thus far, she’d tried to stay somewhat decorated with her clothing—if wearing the same dress for days on end could be considered decorated—but she didn’t have many options with the clothes he’d chosen. Everything looked… comfortable. Relaxed. Totally not workplace appropriate. Also, everything in her duffle bag had a strange grassy smell. Violet lifted the collar of her sweater and sniffed with a wince.

Her scathed bare heels were happy when she traded her usual stilettos for the shoes he’d bought her—boring white things with laces and zero added height. After she slid them on, she raked her fingers through her loose hair in the bathroom. There was no point in trying to doll herself up this morning when she still didn’t have her curling iron, so she stuck on a cute, salmon-coloured sunhat instead.

She headed downstairs to the kitchen to make tea, but she paused in the doorway when she saw four used mugs on the countertop. They hadn’t been there last night. When she peered inside the cups, traces of milk were left in the bottom. She looked back toward the hall, wondering if Mor had company while she’d been asleep.

Violet’s suspicions were confirmed when she spotted several sets of muddy shoeprints, and one set of dirty bare feet footprints around the kitchen. She squatted down to examine the bare foot one, trying to measure it against how big she remembered Shayne’s feet being.

“Did you drop something?”

Violet yelped and stood-spun all at once. One of her shoes caught on the other and she tripped forward, her hat flying off. For the first time, Mor didn’t let her tumble to the floor in a heap at his feet—his arm came around her waist and he yanked her against him to balance.

---