The Royal Stones of Eden (Royal Secrecies Book 1) by Rae T. Alexander Page B

long.
    He looked at me and grabbed my arm, once I was close enough to him, and I immediately noticed that he had gloves on both hands. It was a day of one of his bad colds.
    “I am sending you to a regular school, boy!”—he peered at me with ancient and glazed eyes.
    “What? What about my private studies and my activities?”—I had an affinity for riding horses every afternoon.
    “You are going to learn other things. And, now that you are thirteen, I want you to know something. It is something that I should have told you a long time ago,” he said in a gruff voice. “Peter—you are adopted!"
    My father had a different definition of a legal adult than any recognized law in the United Kingdom. He felt that it was appropriate to tell me such a thing at an early age. He followed his law many times.
    “In my day, a boy had relationships that changed him and challenged him, and you shall have the same, my lad,” he ordered and waved his long judgmental finger toward me.
    Who says “lad” these days? He says it like an old lord and master from Merry Old England.
    “Adopted?”—I felt somewhat and suddenly worried.
    “Peter, your mother and I loved you as a son. And, if you grow to meet the challenges of life as a man, I will leave you my full inheritance. But, you must grow out of your selfishness and your arrogance. Do you think because I am wealthy and preoccupied with a business that I am like you?”—my father looked away from me and toward a dresser against the wall, where a picture of my mum rested.
    In the photograph on the dresser, she wore a white and lacy gown, and around her neck hung a beautiful rectangular blue stone that radiated and gave off a wondrous feeling of contentment when viewed.
    “You will go to school and learn from others! You will learn how to get along and interact with people that are not of your class.”—Father coughed between words. I thought I saw bits of blood come out of his mouth.
    “I caught this damn cold, and I’m trying to shake it,” he spewed. “Go on. Pack your belongings, and Robbie will take care of you. Off with ya, lad!”—he pointed to his butler, Rob Lock, who had just appeared, and was behind me, a moment before he spoke the words.
    Rob Lock was more than a proper, tall, and thin family butler. He was my friend and my companion. He had helped my mother raise me, and he had taken me to my many horse racing outings. His responsibilities varied. He likewise experienced the chore of managing my father’s business interactions with his many corporations that he possessed. I was privy to none of this, of course.
    Robbie, as we all called him, a term my mum had started, I think, led me down one of the many hallways toward the wing where my bedroom was. Robbie was sharp and keen. He was always properly, but not overly dressed—usually in a suit and tie.
    “Sir, there is a bus waiting for us within an hour. We have a brief taxi first.”—Robbie escalated me to a royal title.
    “Robbie, you always called me Peter”—I was surprised by my aversion to the title. Superiority had a touch of arrogant disregard about it.
    “Peter, he wanted me to start saying this to you. He told me he wants me to start calling you ‘Sir’ from now on. I thought I would honor his wish, at least within an ear’s range—you know?”—he smiled and tapped me forward into my room.
    My room of globes and maps spoke of a boy's room. The world was on my desk, and several flags of the world hung on the wall above my bed. I collected dreams.
    He stopped me once in my room, and then he knelt down on the floor in front of me. Robbie pulled out a necklace with a familiar blue stone on it. It looked like the one in the photograph—the one in my dad’s decaying room of history.
    “Your mum wants you to wear this for good luck.”—he extended it toward me as it sparkled in his hand.
    “Where is she?”—I was more concerned with talking to my mum about my newfound knowledge of my