I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying what I really wanted to say. “May I go now, Adelaar?
“Gale.” His tone softened as he sat forward. “You are my little brother. I love you, and I want you to be happy. I really do. But there are some lines we cannot cross.”
“So, in other words, I need to be happy within the realm of whatever the crown wants for me...like always. I understand, so once more, may I go?”
We stared each other down before he finally agreed.
“You may go.”
I turned to leave. However, he spoke again.
“You’ll need to pack, of course.”
I stopped right in front of the door. I should have known from his expression that he wasn’t finished with me yet.
“Pack?” I repeated, turning back to see him.
However, he was all of a sudden far too busy signing documents to meet my gaze.
“You wanted to spend some time with her, remember?”
“You are sending me to Sunshine?”
“Sunrise. She was born in Sunrise, Gale, at least get that correct. And no, I am sending you to Seattle, where she currently lives. Before you argue, remember the choice is yours. You or—”
“No need for threats.” I bit the side of my cheek again. “When do I leave?”
“Tonight.”
He could not be serious! But he was serious, and there was nothing left to say. This was the harshest punishment.
Opening the door, I walked right into...
“Father?” Arthur said from behind me, and I heard the screech of the chair as he rose immediately.
“Gale, what are you doing home?” my father questioned, sizing me up and down, his face stern. “I hope you did not run away again.”
What?
“No, Father,” Arthur called out. “He has the day off, so he came to visit us.”
Huh?
“Hmm,” he grumbled his disapproval as always. “You should be using that free time to study. Do not think for a moment that just because you’re a prince, they will just wave you through law school. You must set the example and elevate the standard.”
That was his motto. But I’d graduated from law school two years ago.
“I’ve spoken to his professors, and despite his antics, he is actually among the top of his class.” Arty came and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Among the top and at the top are two different things. You cannot always cover for him, Arthur.” He looked back to me, and I was frozen in place, too baffled and shocked by what I saw to speak. “What is the matter with you? You’re strangely quiet. Law has beaten all the buffoonery from you?”
Arty squeezed my shoulder slightly.
“Gale?” my father questioned again, this time, a flash of concern marked his face, and he leaned forward.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I blinked and shook my head. “Huh? Sorry, Father. You know I always take naps during your lectures. I finally managed to do it with my eyes open.”
The concern disappeared, and his face pulled into a sullen frown. “Must you always be a clown?”
“It’s either that or king.” I shrugged.
“Go back to school and stop bothering your brother.” He waved me off and moved to his desk. “Arthur, come. I’ll be looking over the Chart of Lords today. You should see who is among them now.”
“Of course,” Arty said to him.
When our eyes met, I saw the sadness in his eyes and had a feeling mine had the same. But he swallowed and then almost instantly forced a smile onto his face. He dusted off my shoulders and said, “Have fun but not too much fun. Make the best out of it.”
“Arthur!”
“Coming.” Arty let me go and went back to the desk, standing beside it as my father took his seat and put on his glasses. He looked over the papers before him and frowned.
“What is this? Why does this have Eduard Pyry as the Master of Chambers? Your mother chose Vincent? Where is he?”
He died eight months ago.
“On vacation, but don’t mind the rest. I was just imagining who would be next in line for all current positions,” Arty lied with ease as he reached over and picked up the files Father was reading. “I was hoping to discuss what you thought of it.”
“Hmm.” Father lifted his chin, holding the paper closer to his face. “These are some good choices. But do not be in a rush to take over, son. Your time as king will come. Don’t push me out of my seat yet.”
“I would never dream of it!” Arty laughed.
“Everyone dreams of it—Gale, you are still here?” Father peered over his glasses to look at me. “Stop goofing around.”
“The spare is just leaving. Sorry for intruding where I am not wanted.” It hurt to joke like this when he was clearly not in his right mind. I looked once more to Arty before stepping out.
“Gale, you are always wanted. Spare or not. So, do not forget to see your mother and sister before you leave.”
The tightness in my chest returned, and I only nodded before finally closing the door. When I did, I leaned back against it. This was real.
My father was really ill.
I knew what was at stake. I truly did, but yesterday, the more I had thought about it, the more I could not imagine just marrying some random woman. Divorces were easy for other nobles, but for royals, it could only be done under the most extreme circumstances—like one of them committing treason. Even if a prince found his wife in the midst of an affair, he still had to get permission from the king and parliament...then there were the people.
But my father was ill.
Once again, I felt a familiar ache in my chest. I didn’t want to speak to or see anyone. I didn’t want to think. I just walked, paying no attention to the world around me until I got into my room. I hoped to lie down, but instead, I found my mother, putting something into the zipper pocket of black luggage that I hadn’t bothered to pack myself. Valets laid out suits, shirts, belts, and shoes onto my bed.
“He may need a coat as well. Bring the wools. The caramel one, as well as the dark gray, should be fine,” Mother directed.
“Can I not pack for myself?” I asked.
Though it seemed, I was not going to be given a choice throughout this whole process. Arty had just told me of his command to leave, but for her to already be here meant they had discussed it beforehand.
My mother glanced at me surprised, despite the fact that it was my room. “Weren’t you staying with your brother?”
Well, not all morning. Arthur must have covered for me again.
“Father came.”
Her face fell, but she held her composure, clasping her hands together and turning on her heels. “We shall have the room.”
They bowed once to her and then me before taking a single step back and turning.
“How was he?” she asked gently. “Your father.”
“He asked me what I was doing home and not at law school.”
She closed her eyes for a long time and just stood still.
Walking up to her, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. The scent of lavender filled my nose.
“Enough. We do not have time to be despondent. There is too much to do. We need to carry on and fill any gaps. For both your father’s and brother’s sakes.” She sniffled and stepped out of my arms. “I’ve had them pack several of your favorites. Plus, jeans and other casual wear. I hear Americans prefer casual dress. Though the suits might be for any formal events—”