A/N: Despite my crazy tiredness, enjoy this new chapter!
Hammy: My plans keep changing.
AER: You are quite welcome :)
TheRanger'sDaughter: Gabe's with the real grown ups. They'll keep him in check...mostly :)
Disclaimer: I'm not John Flanagan.
Robin returned before the others at the brothel could wake…and before they were caught by the princes. She lay back down on her pallet in the pantry staring up at the ceiling. In hindsight, she probably should have copied the information about Talia herself and share it with Russ after their mission was complete. Still, she knew her brother. He and their father, or at least the man who raised both of them, had always wondered about their birthfathers. She'd grown up calling Talia 'Grandma', but it'd always been clear Talia's relationship with her parents wasn't like the relationship Grandpa Liam shared with Scout and Caitlyn. She learned Russ was biologically her half-uncle when she was almost a teenager. It didn't change much. He along with Holt still both terrorized and protected her just as much as ever. When Kane told her (at Russ' request), he made just a few things quite clear.
One, the only reason they were raised calling Talia 'grandma' was because his adoptive mother, Lady Pauline, passed before all but Russ were born and Liam, whom they called 'grandpa', insisted they needed at least one set of unconditionally loving grandparents. Kane and Gabby accepted Talia into their lives and then allowed her a larger role in their children's lives. Robin loved her grandmother. Her old life had shocked her, and seeing her name in the records book made things much more real.
Two, Kane's birthfather was likely a Hibernian and Russ' was likely an Iberion. The list had just one name that could be Iberion.
And three, Talia's history prior to marrying Grandpa Liam wasn't one anyone should be proud of. Yes, she'd done a lot of good and yes, she'd taken down a lot of bad men, but she'd done it in ways Kane refused to tell them. It hadn't been hard to guess. Just to confirm her suspicious, Robin went to Uncle Roman a long time ago asking. When he refused to tell her she asked her grandmother on her mother's side baited questions hoping to get it out. She hadn't had to dig far for Grandmamma Catherine to spill more than Robin had bargained for.
Robin got just a few hours' of dozing in before the heavyset woman whose face was always caked with colored powder came clomping into the pantry. She threw a bucket at Robin.
"You're still in bed?" she bellowed as loud as her scratchy tobacco-abused voice would allow. "Up girl! We've work to do!"
"Yes Mistress," Robin hastily replied. She pulled on her boots, collected the bucket, and ran for the well behind the brothel. She'd helped her mother enough being a servant girl wasn't too hard to pull off. If it weren't for the freely flowing wine, rum, and ale Robin could almost pretend she was back home preparing meals for a large gathering of the family. Almost.
The first meal served in the brothel was the girls' 'breakfast' at a time Robin's mother typically fed the children blocks of cheese or a piece of fruit to keep them full until dinner. Robin and the more-than-plump Mistress Farrah set the back table with oatmeal, pears, and scrambled eggs. Mistress of the House commanded the 'girls' be kept on strict diets to keep their shapes. Rich foods were saved for their clients who opted for dinner in addition to…whatever else they wished. Robin had just finished filling tall glasses with milk and short ones with whiskey when the girls came downstairs, followed by Mistress of the House.
"Hurry up, girls," she told them. "They're already at the door."
Robin ducked back to the kitchen to escape the crude topics of conversation that would no doubt follow. She heard one click her tongue behind her back.
"Shame the new servant girl has such hideous hair. She could be one of us if it were longer."
"Well, I suppose she could be pretty enough."
Robin let the jab roll off her back as she returned to the kitchen. She wasn't some servant girl, she reminded herself. She was apprenticed to her aunt, the richest woman in Araluen, slotted to take an important role in the company her aunt and mother (and step-aunt if she wanted to get specific) founded. These women were caught up in a dangerous profession that would only last 10-15 years if they were lucky. She could let them have this one.
Reese kept his mouth shut while he and Hazen walked upstairs again empty handed.
"Russ isn't going to be happy," Hazen muttered.
"I know."
"It's been too long."
"I know."
"We need to figure out what's missing."
Reese snapped. "Hazen, I know. Alright? We're getting nowhere and time is running out. I'm fully aware of the situation without you narrating it, alright?"
Hazen shook his head. "I'm just speaking. Do I not even do that to your standards?"
Reese stopped walking. "What?" he demanded. "Speak to my standards?"
"Yes."
Reese lost it the moment they stepped onto the landing. "You're the one who never turns his title off, Prince Hazen."
"My title?"
"Yes. Your title. Always so official, always so…so…"
Hazen stopped walking. "Yes, I take my title seriously," he said. "Is that wrong?"
"Taking it seriously? No. Never turning it off and just being a person? That's a bit much, don't you agree?"
The Hibernian fumed. "What's wrong with being who I am? Perhaps you could try it some time."
"Excuse me? Is that some kind of joke?"
"If you don't want your title, Reese, fine. At least let me know so I can build something with Iris to keep Hibernia and Araluen on good terms."
"Iris," Reese repeated. "What could you possibly build with Iris that wouldn't make you look like those creeps Robin's putting up with across the street?"
"We're like cousins!" Hazen snapped. "That's low, Reese."
The door to their room opened. Russ came out and grabbed both their collars. He dragged them back into the room, threw them to the ground, and shut the door calmly behind him.
"Why do you two have to be princes?" he muttered. "Normal men would just punch it out and go on with their lives. But no, princes must remain all proper and whatnot."
"Since when is anyone in our families normal?" Reese muttered.
"We're on a mission to find Maggie, alright? If you two want to fight, do it as brothers. If Holt and I were going at it the way you two are we would have come to blows days ago. Instead you two are behaving like Robin and Anne during their one fight."
Reese and Hazen exchanged a glare before Russ continued.
"Hazen, Reese is adopted alright? He wasn't born into this life like you were. His sense of responsibility doesn't feel like an entitlement to him. It's more like a debt, and no man wants to be in debt. Got it?" Russ turned to Reese. "And you. Hazen was brought up knowing there was no question of what his role would be. He wants to perform his role to the best of his ability and then some. That, and the little girl we're trying to find was supposed to be his little sister. Now that we're all on the same understanding, I expect you to throw the hooks both your parents taught you. Just don't do it mid-mission, got it?"