Page 29 of Prince of Wrath

“Because,” Tristan clears his throat, “because I’m in love with your daughter, sir, and I intend to support her and be there for her for as long as she lets me.”

I’m in love with your daughter.

In love.

A rocket launches. A volcano erupts. Thousands of horses run wild on a mountain, and my world falls from its axis. Tristan loves me. And he told my father. His hand flexes around mine, and I squeeze it back, speaking our silent dialect. That I, too, love him.

“I won’t stay long here, son,” my father says, focused on Tristan. “Someone has to be in her corner.”

“I am,” Tristan answers in the blink of an eye. “I’ll always be.”

“Dad,” I sign with my left hand since the other is taken, spreading my fingers and connecting my thumb to my forehead.

“I failed her, but you won’t,” Dad states, like he is giving a mission to Tristan, like they are his last words. “You’ll do better.” A knock sounds at the door, then a nurse enters, smiling in a lavender blouse, with short red hair, and carrying a food tray.

“Sorry to disrupt you. I’ll leave you to it.”

“No,” my father calls. “You kids go. This isn’t a place for young people to waste their youth. I’ll eat,” he coughs. “I’ll eat now, please.”

“Are you sure? I could stay.”

“Will you come back?”

“Of course. Every day.”

“Then that’s all I need, honey.”

“What about…Mara?”

He sighs. “I…I don’t know. I honestly don’t know what to do about Mara. When she comes, we’ll talk and hopefully put an end to our union.”

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“You know, on our first date, she said she hated chocolate, and your mom always said people who hated chocolate couldn’t be trusted.”

“Dad.” I roll my eyes.

“No, really.” His mouth twitches weakly. “The signs were there all along. I just didn’t…” He pauses. “I’ll be all right here, Ella. As long as I can see you, I’ll be a happy man.”

“Then I’ll be there tomorrow. Rest, Dad. They’ll take great care of you here, and you can video call me from the tablet right there. The nurse can set it up for you whenever.” Dad’s eyes find Tristan again.

“I’ll…I’ll call Mara, though, to straighten things out, but…” He looks at Tristan with the same solemnity they exchanged moments ago. “If Mara comes for her…”

“She’ll have to go through me.” His words settle over the room like steel, and my heart stutters. Part of me is eight years old again, waiting for someone bigger to stand between me and the monster under my bed. Dad exhales, and it sounds like something leaving him. The nurse settles on the opposite side with the plastic tray, sorting out spoons and napkins.

“Thank you,” I tell her silently, before leaning in and squeezing Dad’s hand. “See you tomorrow, Dad,” I sign before blowing him a kiss like I always did. We exit, and I catch Matt in the corner of my eye, standing ten feet away, watching over us in low-profile tactical gear. Black T-shirt, pants, boots, and a holster clipped discreetly at his side. Tristan’s hand hovers near my back without touching it.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs in my ear, and the tenderness of it almost ruins me, because all I want is to curl into his arms and stay there until the end of time. A sound slices through the moment as my phone rings.

Mara’s face appears on the screen, and my breath catches so sharply it feels like my body has mistaken her name for a hand around my throat. My knees threaten to give, the exhaustion of the last few days gathering all at once in my bones, but I force myself to stay upright. Dad doesn’t hate me. I haven’t ruined everything. Stand, for God’s sake. Be stronger than her.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Tristan asks calmly, though something violent lurks beneath the calm. The call ends before I can answer, and a voicemail appears in its place.

“Anything she says from now on could incriminate her,” Tristan explains, his voice low beside me. “I’ve got people listening to her calls to gather proof of her involvement with you and your father’s condition. She may be aware of it, so if she sounds strange, that’s why.” I nod and press play, and with it, I let Mara’s sickening voice thread itself back inside me.

“Hi, Ella, sweetie. I heard you were staying at a friend’s for a few days, and I’m so glad to know you’re back. I had, well, a little surprise a few days ago when I couldn’t find something valuable, something that should never have left our home, so I just wanted you to know, love, that I’ll be coming for you. Rest assured, little birdy, I’m always there. Always. I love you, darling. The girls and I miss you so much. Please say hi to your Prince Charming. I can’t wait to see both of you.”

The message ends, and ice-cold dread slides down my spine. I look at Tristan, then back at the screen, unable to understand how a voice can sound so sweet while carrying so much poison. Tristan’s jaw clenches, his eyes fixed on the phone as if he could reach through it and put his hands around the threat itself.