“Thank you.” I was grateful, and I squeezed his hand again to show him how much it meant to me. His knuckles felt sharp under my fingers. He was so fragile now. So much different to the strong, powerful leader I remembered.
“I do want you to honor Luxuria’s tradition,” he went on. “There are so many rich, incredible rituals in our history. I want them to survive for generations, and I want you to teach your children the same things I have taught you. To always honor your past.”
“Of course, father.”
“Especially with the selection process,” he went on. “You know I chose your mother. I want you to choose your wife in the same way I did.”
“I will,” I promised him. “Anything you want.”
“And I also have something for you.”
He pointed to the nightstand after realizing he was too weak to get it himself. I paled at the thought of truly losing him. Of my father being gone forever. But I didn’t have a choice in the matter. The cancer was going to claim him soon, and nobody could do a thing about it.
“I wanted you to have it,” he said weakly as I picked up the item off the nightstand, weighing it in my hands.
“You will get so many things once I die,” my father said. “You will get the crown… my scepter… I wanted you to have something else.”
I weighed his signet ring in my hand, fighting back the urge to scream bloody murder.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fucking fair that I was twenty-four years old and about to lose the man who had raised me. The man who had taught me everything I knew, and who’d brought me up to be an honorable man despite my best intentions to be anything but.
He’d stopped wearing the ring months ago, when it became too big to fit his fingers. After the initial few adjustments when we thought he was still getting better, he finally accepted that it would keep getting smaller and smaller until he died.
“I can’t take this,” I managed. “You know what the tradition says, father.”
“I don’t want to be buried with it,” he said stubbornly. “Of course, you could have a new ring made. After all, it is tradition… But you will inherit so many royal items. So many things that should mean something. But really, this ring is the one that matters.”
I stared at the metal circle in my hands, the signet embossed with our herald.
“I sealed all my documents with it,” Dad said. “Love letters to your mother… Even your birth certificate. This ring has been with me since I became the king, and I want it to do the same for you, son.”
“Thank you,” I managed.
“Put it on,” Dad insisted, and my fingers shook as I slipped the ring on my finger.
I looked down at my father’s ashen face, surprised to see a proud smile pulling the corners of his lips upward. I hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. For a second, I almost managed to forget about his illness.
“It looks good on you,” he managed.
I could tell he was on the verge of tears himself, and I fought my own emotions off. I couldn’t show him how much I was hurting now. I needed to be strong. To stay standing through this whole ordeal and replace my father on the throne once the time came.
“There are more things I could tell you,” he went on. “But I fear we don’t have the time. I do believe I’ve raised you to be a good king, and more importantly, a good person. When I leave this world…”
“Dad…”
“No,” he insisted, raising a weak hand to stop me from going on. “When I leave this world, I will do so confidently, knowing that I have left an incredible heir to the kingdom, and an even better man to a woman who is out there just for you, Olivier.”
“Thank you,” I managed. “You don’t know how much it means to me. That you still love me, trust me, that you still believe in me after all this time. After I’ve let you down so many times.”
“You haven’t,” he said, squeezing my hand again. “Everyone makes foolish decisions, Olivier. You’re still so young. Please, don’t rush into anything. Love will find you, and one day, you will make an incredible ruler to Luxuria. I have faith in you, my son.”
A massive weight rolled off my shoulders.
I was half-expecting him to say he’d chosen his other son, Bruno, as the heir to the kingdom. On one hand, it would have been a relief… but on the other, I would feel ashamed beyond belief.
“Oh, I never doubted you,” Dad said with a weak smile. “I knew you needed the time to come around. And I don’t blame you for not being here when I found out I was sick.”
I was rendered speechless. He was such a kind, good man, and I had a lot to learn from him still. But I would have to make do with what he’d taught me before this fateful moment.
I leaned down next to him to whisper in his ear, “I hope one day I can be half the man you are.”
When I pulled back, we both had tears in our eyes, and my father chuckled, dabbing at his eyes – dark brown, a mirror image of mine – with a handkerchief.
“One last thing,” he said. His breathing was so labored now he started coughing, and pain twisted my stomach into a million knots. I couldn’t bear to hear him hurting like that. “Promise me one more thing, okay, Olivier?”
“Of course,” I said softly.
“Never start smoking,” he said, and I grinned at him. With his last vestige of power, he motioned to the nightstand again. “Open that drawer, would you?”
I did as he asked, revealing a hidden packet of Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes and the Berluti lighter he always used. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, shaking my head as I took the cigarettes out.
“Go on,” my father encouraged me, “One last smoke.”
I hesitated before withdrawing a dark brown cigarette, placing it between his paper-dry lips and lighting it for him. He took a long huff of the smoke, grinning weakly at me.
“That’s the stuff that would make a dead man come back to life,” he muttered.
“You’re not dead yet,” I said, the words heavy and harsh on my tongue. I touched his cheek gently, and he exhaled. “You’re still here.”
“Not for long,” he said shakily, giving me an apologetic smile as I removed the cigarette. He was wheezing. “I’ve done my best to be a good father, Olivier. I know you will do the same with your children. I love you, my son.”
His eyelids grew heavy and my grip on his hand tightened. But it was too late. He was already slipping away, and this time I knew it was to a place darker than just the land of sleep.
“Sleep well, father,” I whispered, bowing to him for the very last time.
There was no answer.
“Prince Olivier?”
I turned in the direction of the voice, snapping back to the present. I’d let the past pull me away again, but now, it was time to pave the path that led into my future.
A servant stood in the room behind me, and I realized I hadn’t even heard him walk inside.
“They’re ready for you, Your Highness,” he said, bowing and stepping aside.
I took a deep breath and followed him downstairs.