Page 2 of Rogue Royal
“Wonderful.” Sarcasm was Douglas’s best friend. He faked a smile, which dropped quickly.
He didn’t mind being at the club, except after the week he’d been through, but he preferred to be playing instead of “working.” By being one of the Dungeon Monitors, he needed to keep an eye on everyone who played within his allocated area instead of only who he was playing with. He enjoyed watching others when they played; the ecstasy and care being given was a beauty to behold, but he preferred being part of the scene. Although Dungeon Monitors could take part, Douglas refused because he didn’t want his attention to waiver from his job.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to your evening.”
Maverick bowed his head and strode to the door. His dark grey trousers fitted him nicely, and the white shirt with a dark grey waistcoat left next to nothing to the imagination. Douglas wasn’t dead. He knew a gorgeous man when he saw one, and if they had been anything other than what they were, he would’ve tried flirting with him.
“Goodnight, Maverick.”
“Goodnight, Your Highness.”
That was another thing about Maverick. He refused to use Douglas’s given name, speaking only his title as if he wanted the distance between them to be clear.
Douglas threw himself on the sofa again, staring at the large circular creation on the ceiling. His mind, however, was on his father’s words. And Maverick’s. He wasn’t sure whose words cut him deeper. Needing a distraction, he rose and exited the room, dashing down the corridor to Frederick’s room. As far as he knew, his brother was staying at the castle for a few days, having his own duties to navigate. As the heir to the throne, Frederick had a lot more on his shoulders than Douglas did.
He knocked on his brother’s door, and Frederick shouted for him to enter.
Frederick’s sitting room was similar to Douglas’s, except he had chosen more regal-looking furniture in white and blue tones. His sofas and chairs weren’t half as comfortable as Douglas’s.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”
His brother was the quintessential movie star, dream man for many women out there—and men, too—with his short black hair, ice-blue eyes and barely-there stubble. To top it off, he was a genuinely pleasant person, and someone Douglas tried to emulate, though rarely succeeded.
Douglas hugged his brother, clapping him on the back, and huffed. “Got into a bit of trouble. I’m working at the club every evening for the foreseeable future.” He reclined in one of the uncomfortable armchairs and shook his head.
Frederick narrowed his eyes at him. “What did you do this time?”
Douglas winced and rubbed his mouth. “I might’ve got caught with my pants down.”
“Literally or figuratively? Why I need to ask that question is beyond me.” Frederick sat in one corner of the sofa, crossing his legs and resting his arm along the back of it.
Douglas said nothing, which was answer enough. “They took it out of context, not that anyone cares. I wish Father wouldn’t berate me in front of people outside of the family.”
“Most people would wish their parents wouldn’t berate them at all. You give them too many opportunities to do it. We’ve had this discussion more times than I can count.”
“I know, but I don’t mean to. I hate being under so much scrutiny.”
“We don’t have the luxury of hiding under the radar, Doug. Everything we do willalwaysbe open to the public. Even more, if it’s something we shouldn’t be doing.”
He understood what he wasn’t saying. Douglas was the primary cause for concern within their family, and he had never been one to shy away from doing what he wanted. It was why they had brought Maverick onto his staff in the first place. His parents had hoped with some structure and guidance, Douglas would make better choices and could become a valuable member of their family.
In the beginning, he had tried his hardest, but the constraints chafed uncomfortably, and before long, he had snubbed the idea, reverting to his original ways with a few additional duties. He couldn’t stop what he was doing; it was too important in his eyes. Unfortunately, Maverick had to pick up the pieces. He cared what the public had to say about him, but he refused to change who he was because ofwhathe was.
“Father will remove the restrictions soon, I’m sure. Keep out of trouble for the time being.”
Douglas sighed. “I don’t do it on purpose, you know.”
Frederick grinned. “Are you sure?”
Douglas’s mouth twitched. “Positive.”
“Hmm. I’ll let you believe that.” He cleared his throat. “How did Maverick take it?”
Rolling his eyes, he wandered to the window, peeking out into the darkness. “How do you expect?”
Frederick chuckled. “I can imagine you’re going to turn him grey before he’s forty.”
“He’s doing more than he should be.”
