Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Dean had asked to be left alone for the afternoon for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with rest.

Technically, Arion had gone to meet Hendrik. Technically, Dean had told him he did not want to know what the meeting involved. Technically, this created an extremely convenient window of opportunity.

Rina arrived at the private residence shortly after lunch carrying a large paper shopping bag and the expression of someone who had committed a crime she expected to be praised for.

Dean knew immediately.

He was standing in the sitting room in loose black trousers and a thin cream shirt with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, already too warm despite the open terrace doors and the mild spring air moving through the curtains.

Boreas lay beside the sofa, his massive head lifting when Rina entered.

Dean looked at the bag.

Then at Rina.

”No.”

Her smile widened.

Dean crossed the room far faster than anyone on the medical board would have approved.

”You didn’t.”

”I did.”

She set the bag on the low table.

Dean opened it.

Inside sat a transparent plastic container filled with tiny yellow ducks.

One hundred.

Exactly one hundred.

Some had crowns.

Others wore sunglasses, flowers, hats, tiny painted bow ties, or expressions far more aggressive than any rubber duck had the right to possess.

Dean put both hands over his mouth.

Rina folded her arms.

”For the baby.”

Dean looked at her.

”For the baby?”

”That is what I will tell Arion.”

Dean started laughing.

The child currently kicking occasionally beneath his shirt had no possible use for one hundred miniature ducks, but Dean appreciated the legal strategy.

”He banned me from buying these.”

”You didn’t buy them.”

”He banned other people from buying them for me.”

”I did not buy them for you.”

Rina pointed toward Dean’s stomach.

”I bought them for my nephew.”

Dean looked down at the small curve.

Then back at her.

”That is immorally clever.”

”I know.”

Fifteen minutes later, the container was empty.

Dean had originally imagined taking his time.

One duck per week.

Perhaps two.

Something subtle enough that Arion would remain uncertain whether he was finding new ducks or repeatedly encountering the same ones.

Rina considered that plan weak.

By the tenth duck, subtlety had died completely.

The first went inside Arion’s bedside drawer, positioned directly beside his watch.

The second disappeared into the pocket of a formal coat.

Dean placed one behind the coffee machine in their private sitting room and another between two bottles in Arion’s side of the bathroom cabinet.

Rina hid three among the books on the bedroom shelves.

Dean stared.

”Three in one room is excessive.”

”You have ninety-four left.”

That was difficult to argue with.

Boreas followed them through the suite, sniffing suspiciously at every location and nearly ruining two placements by attempting to eat a duck wearing sunglasses.

Dean rescued it.

”No.”

Boreas looked deeply betrayed.

”These are not food.”

The dog sneezed against his hand.

Dean wiped it on Rina’s sleeve.

She shoved him away.

By the time they reached Arion’s office, Dean was sweating.

Late spring had no business being this warm, but pregnancy had apparently decided sixteen degrees was tropical.

He abandoned his overshirt over one of Arion’s chairs and stood in the center of the office considering possibilities.

Rina looked around.

”This room needs help.”

”It needs fear.”

Dean placed one duck inside the top desk drawer.

Another went behind the framed photograph of them near the window.

A crowned duck disappeared inside a decorative box containing spare cuff links.

Dean considered the enormous black desk.

Then smiled.

Rina saw it.

”What?”

Dean crouched carefully and attached one tiny duck beneath the desk using a removable adhesive strip.

Rina stared.

”He may never find that.”

”That is the point.”

”You’re terrifying.”

”Thank you.”

They left seven ducks in Arion’s office.

Dean considered that restraint.

The emperor’s palace was next.

That required planning.

Fortunately, Minerva ruined the need for secrecy by finding them halfway through the covered garden corridor.

She stood beneath an archway in pale green trousers and a cream blouse, reading something on her tablet while two members of her staff waited several meters away.

Her gaze dropped to Dean’s hands.

Dean was holding a small yellow duck wearing a crown.

Minerva looked at Rina. Then at Dean. Then at the tote bag now containing approximately sixty remaining ducks.

There was a long pause.

”What are you doing?”

Dean considered lying.

Pregnancy had apparently removed that ability along with his filter.

”Hiding ducks.”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed.

”In whose residence?”

”Ours.”

”That bag suggests expansion.”

Rina answered cheerfully.

”We were going to Father’s office.”

Dean waited for judgment.

Instead, Minerva’s mouth curved.

”Oh.”

That was dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, the empress of Alamina was helping them infiltrate her husband’s office.

This transformed an immature prank into a coordinated royal operation.

Dean placed one duck between two historical volumes on the shelving behind Otto’s desk.

Rina slid another into the drawer containing official seals.

Minerva objected.

”Not there. He uses that daily.”

Dean stared.

”You understand we want him to find them.”

”Eventually.”

She took the duck and moved it into a less frequently used compartment.

Dean looked at Rina.

Rina looked back.

Neither said anything.

Apparently Minerva had instincts for long-term psychological warfare.

The next duck went behind a bronze sculpture near the windows.

Another disappeared beneath the lip of the drinks cabinet.

Minerva personally placed one inside the pocket of Otto’s ceremonial coat hanging in the adjoining dressing room.

Dean had to sit down because he was laughing too hard.

”This is your husband.”

”Yes.”

”You’re helping me torment him.”

”He married me voluntarily.”

Rina nodded solemnly.

”That is the family principle.”

Dean wiped beneath his eyes.

His son moved. He immediately rested a hand over the bump.

Minerva noticed.

Her whole expression softened.

”He’s active today?”

”Apparently he approves of crime.”

”Definitely Arion’s child.”

Dean looked offended.

”I am the one hiding ducks.”

”Exactly.”

That argument went nowhere.

By the time they returned to Dean and Arion’s residence, forty-three ducks remained.

Dean refused to hide all of them. Not because he had developed restraint. Because keeping a reserve seemed strategically sound.

Rina reluctantly agreed.

They stored the remaining container behind a stack of folded blankets in one of the guest-room wardrobes, where Arion had no reason to look.

Minerva returned to the emperor’s palace before Otto finished his meeting, carrying three ducks in her handbag for purposes she refused to explain.

Rina left shortly afterward.

Dean was alone again.

Boreas occupied the rug while Dean lowered himself onto the sofa with a glass of cold water and looked around the room.

Nothing appeared different.

That was the beauty of it.

Somewhere inside their suite were tiny yellow threats waiting patiently.

Arion’s office had seven.

Otto’s had six.

Minerva had three unaccounted for.

Dean rested both hands over his stomach.

”Your father is going to be furious.”

The baby kicked beneath his palm.

Dean smiled.

”I knew you understood me.”

Boreas lifted his head.

Dean reached down and scratched behind his ears.

Outside, the gardens were bright beneath the spring sun, the palace quiet and peaceful around him.

Somewhere far away, Arion was having whatever unpleasant meeting Dean had wisely chosen not to know about.

Dean, meanwhile, had accomplished something important.

The ducks were finally inside the palace.