A handful of curious gazes followed me all the way to the kitchen island where I finished whisking the ingredients for my brownies. Silence fell over the usually bustling kitchen. The ticking of the clock above the door seemed loud enough to wake the dead. I wished it would. Then maybe I could get some answers.
I felt everyone’s eyes on me and knew what it probably looked like to them. I shouldn’t have been embarrassed that the prince paid attention to me. Nearly every woman in his kingdom went to bed dreaming of his fingers on their lips and his hand around their waist. I was no exception. The difference was that I had a taste of the consequences of that attention, and it was a price I wasn’t sure I was willing to pay.
Madeline reached across the counter and squeezed my hand, and Mrs. Fletcher gave me a comforting smile. I poured the brownie mix into the pan. The scent of baked blueberries filled the kitchen as soon as I opened the oven door.
I eyed the fluffy tops overflowing the muffin cups in the pan. “They look delicious,” I said to Mrs. Fletcher, hoping to break the awkward silence in the room. “You have to give me your recipe.” My voice cracked at the end, and I mentally cringed at the audible kink in my armor.
I prided myself on being strong, yet Sutton always managed to nearly bring me to my knees. This time we had an audience to witness the fall, and my question was still left unanswered.
The older woman chuckled and shook her head while she slid the muffin pan out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. “Family secret, my dear.”
There seemed to be a lot of those in Thornebridge Castle.
I stuck my brownies in and closed the oven door. “Then I guess I’ll just have to settle for eating them.” I painted on my best smile and pretended like my heart wasn’t pounding against my ribs. “Have a great morning everyone. I’ll be back in about…” I glanced down at my watch then back up with a forced smile. “Twenty-eight minutes.”
The second I was out of the kitchen and in the hallway, I stopped to regroup, tilting my head back to stare at the coffered ceiling. The ornate wood trim dug into my back as I leaned against the wall. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing away the confusion and anxiety that swirled around in the pit of my stomach.
“We’re far from done here, little sheep.”
What did that even mean? I spilled my guts to him… twice… and he still acted like I was the one with something to hide.
A female voice I didn’t recognize floated from the kitchen into the hall. “Who was that woman?”
“She’s so pretty,” another unfamiliar voice followed.
Pretty? Maybe they weren’t throwing darts at a poster of my face after all.
“Katarina Bellizzi,” Mrs. Fletcher replied. The sound of a faucet running and dishes being placed into the sink echoed in the background.
It wasn’t eavesdropping if the conversation was about me. Right?
“You mean the same Katarina Bellizzi who—”
“Yes.” Mrs. Fletcher cut her off in a hushed tone.
“Does the prince know?” the first girl questioned.
“I don’t think he cares.”
The same Katarina Bellizzi who… what? What did the prince need to know? I itched to run back into the kitchen and demand answers. I didn’t because that would make me look crazy. Besides, all anyone ever did was dance around my questions. No one ever had the stomach to stand and look me in the eye. Secrets and lies were like poison, eating away at everything around them until all that was left was destruction. But that was the thing about secrets: In the end, just like poison, they always found their way to the surface.
The best way to keep a secret was to pretend that there wasn’t one. Illusion was something we had crafted to perfection. Pretending we were normal. Pretending we had the perfect family. Pretending the king wasn’t lying in his bed losing his battle with cancer. Our secret was out now, though, and there would be no more pretending. It was official. The Lord Chancellor, Lord Chief Justice, and Speaker of the House had made a declaration of incapacity. My father was no longer healthy enough to be king, and I would become regent. It wasn’t something any of us took lightly.
The day he took his oath and placed the crown upon his head, Dad made a commitment for life. My father was king—would always be king—until God, and no one else, said otherwise. I guessed cancer was God’s way of making a statement.
I walked the long, wide hallway to Dad’s office where Mom waited for me. With every step I took, it felt as though a black fog settled over the castle. The weight of a dozen bricks fell to the bottom of my stomach. Each of my steps was heavier than the last until I reached the large wooden door.
I stopped in the doorway and watched as Mom stood behind Dad’s desk, trailing her long, slim fingers across the polished wood. Her gaze was fixed on the framed family photo perched on one corner. We’d taken it last Christmas in front of the fireplace in the Ambassador’s Room right after Dad was diagnosed. It would be the last picture we had as a family. Mom insisted on everyone having one on their desk. It was supposed to remind us that we were never alone, even though most of the time we were.
She looked up at me, her emerald-green eyes glossed over with unshed tears. Her blonde hair was pinned neatly to the top of her head and her peplum dress looked as though it had just come off the rack. She sucked in a breath and held her chin high, the perfect picture of untouchable royalty. But I knew. I knew the pain she carried because I felt it too.
Fate was a bitch. She sat in the darkness, watching you build your life, stacking the bricks one by one. Just when you thought the walls were secure, that you had it all figured out, she dealt a blow that sent it all crumbling down.
While I was dicking around in the kitchen, my father’s throne was taken from him. And handed to me.
The bullshit with Katie needed to end today. I would make sure of it. No more secrets. No more games. She was asking about her father, and something told me the chances of her dropping that shit were about as high as the chances of me not fucking her. What would she do when she finally found the truth? Would she hate me for telling her? I would protect her feelings for as long as I could, but if it came between the Crown and Katie, I’d choose my crown every time. As of today, my life no longer belonged to me. It belonged to the throne. Then again, I supposed it always had. Freedom was just another one of the illusions we painted so well.
“When did they sign it?” I asked as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The curtains were still closed, leaving it dark in here. The only light in the room came from the glow of two small gold-plated lamps with green glass shades.
Mom cleared her throat, moving her fingers to a long document in the center of his desk. “This morning.”
I moved across the plush wool rug, stopping on the opposite side of Dad’s desk. “So, what’s next?” I knew what was next, but something needed to drag us away from the impending silence. Soon it would be quiet, too quiet, and the knowledge of that ate at my very fucking soul.
“You take your oath in front of Privy Council,” Mom answered.
My heart cracked wide open. Everything I never wanted was about to be placed in the palm of my hands… at the expense of my father’s life. He lived for the Crown, and all I ever wanted to do was live without it. How fucked up was that?