Page 68 of Ghosts and Ginger Tea

“You don’t know that. The only reason he is fighting Kalani is because Kalani aims to fight back,” I said.

“Your majesty, this is madness,” said a counselor. “We must fight.”

Before I could reply, Peter defended me. “She has spoken.”

“She doesn’t know how to be the queen. She’s just a commoner.”

“Don’t question the king’s choice of wife.”

The room exploded in arguments. Color drained from my face.

They don’t trust me. Well, not all of them. And why should they? They had done all of this politics much longer than myself.

Suddenly… I didn’t trust myself. Going into this bargain, I thought I had the upperhand. But what a fool. There was no upperhand without Keanu.

I lost him.

“I must go.” I stood and rushed out the side door, unable to take the loud shouts and arguments any longer.

I am no queen. I slumped to the floor in the hallway and cried.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Isat on the settee in the bedroom, staring at the tray of ginger tea. The steam stopped rising hours ago and the aroma had long disappeared too, leaving the air cold and blank, just like my mind.

What have I done?

I thought I was being smart because I had never dreamed big, never let my emotions get to me.

But it felt as if years of emotions–emotions that had been contained under so much pressure–were now pouring out all at once. It was overwhelming and made me sick to my stomach. I had eaten nothing since the meeting with the counselors that morning.

All I could think about was what a mess I’d created, and how I did not deserve to be here. I did not deserve to be queen.

And I do not deserve Keanu’s love. He finally said it. His last words were his confession of love to me.

I buried my head in my hands.

How could I do this to him? Was this what love felt like? Was it supposed to hurt this bad?

This is why I’ve avoided it. This was why I kept myself from dreaming big, or of a life that might lead to happiness.

But I am a great spearfisher. Yes, that was true. My practicality had helped me and my family survive… not just survive, but have a good life here. Kiki was in a much better position, not only in terms of location and the home she now lived in, but with great prospects of marriage. Maybe she and Peter would fall in love and be happy here.

I looked around the room, trying to take it all in. It felt like I was looking at it for the first time again, the night of the wedding. Everything was so extravagant, so luxurious, so…

Not me. But it felt like me when he was here.

Suddenly, my eyes locked on an item sitting at the desk.

Keanu’s journal. He told me I could read it. “What’s mine is yours,” were the exact words he said. I always kept myself from reading it. It felt too invasive, personal, and… I never trusted him. I feared that whatever I read might be him just putting on a front.

But he never did put on a front. Keanu had always been, well, Keanu. He had always been honest, especially after the experience with Kalani. Keanu was always trying to look out for and protect me.

My feet moved of their own accord to the desk, where I sat and, with trembling fingers, touched the black leather cover. I knew I was being overly sentimental, but Keanu had touched this very book. He had taken the time to write in it. Maybe about me?

I flipped to the page, where a black ribbon bookmark meant he’d stopped writing there. This was his most recent entry:

I admit. I’m smitten.