Page 96 of Fit for a King

Gabriel snorted. “Liar. I bet if I tried on your pants right now they’d have to let them out, and we all know I’m looking handsome as ever, so the problem’s not me.”

I reached for the clasp at my throat to unfasten it, but it was layered with chains and sapphires, and I couldn’t get it undone fast enough.

Gabriel came over and pushed my hands aside. “Let me.”

“I can do it.”

“I know. That’s always been the problem.”

He unfastened the clasp, and when the cape loosened, I could breathe again.

Gabriel took it from me and draped it over the custom valet stand that had been built strong enough to hold the heavy garment.

“So, you want to tell me why you’re skipping meals and barking at everyone within a two-mile radius of your royal self, or do you want me to guess?”

“I want you to go away. Why isn’t that an option?”

“Because then you’d be left with nothing to do in life but rattle around in this drafty old palace with your chains.”

I looked around the polished marble floors and ceilings, then back to my pain-in-the-ass brother. “Yes, it’s so drafty and old.”

Gabriel swiped his hand through the air. “Eh, you get the idea.”

Yes, I did. I was going to grow old and miserable—more miserable—over time if I didn’t work out how to shake this dark cloud following me around.

It wasn’t that I was unaware I’d been acting like a miserable human, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to help it. It was as if my happiness had been ripped away the day Noah had left—and in a sense, it had. He’d been the one person I looked forward to seeing every morning and night, and now that I didn’t have him, I was lost.

“Look—” Gabriel started, but I held up a hand.

“Let me stop you right there. I’ve got a thousand things that need to be done over the next few days, and listening to you tell me what an ogre I’m being is currently at the bottom of that list. So if you don’t have anything helpful to contribute to all this hoopla, well, there’s the door.”

I pointed across the room, but Gabriel just crossed his arms and gave me a long, slow once-over.

“Is this where I’m supposed to follow your orders, Your Majesty? Or leave out of respect? Because if that’s the case, you’ve got the wrong guy. We’re going to talk about this surly attitude of yours whether you like it or not. So sit.”

He pointed to the throne, and I arched a brow. “You did not just tell me to sit like a dog on my throne.”

“Oh it’s your throne now, is it? You’ve been so opposed to it lately that I wasn’t sure you still wanted to claim it.”

“Gabriel—”

“Growl all you like. You’re not getting rid of me.”

I took in a deep breath, and when it was clear the stubborn ass was going nowhere, I gritted my teeth and walked up onto the dais to take my place on the throne.

The same place I’d been sitting when I sent Noah away.

“He’s gone.” Gabriel didn’t have to say whom. “You said you were dealing with it.”

“I am.”

“Not very well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not living up to your expectations?”

“Quite frankly, no. But who cares about those? What about your own expectations?” Gabriel cocked his head. “For a while there I thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d run things differently to the way Father did—that you’d be more open, more accessible to the people, maybe offer a smile here or there like you did on the tour—but it seems that was wishful thinking on my behalf, if your attitude lately has been anything to go by.”

He was right. But I still went on the defensive. “I can’t be expected to be all smiles, all the time.”