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I smile at the comparison.
Before she passed away, I always looked up to and admired the woman who gave me life. It was her legacy that made me do so much volunteer work when I was younger. And now that volunteer work has transitioned to a passion for giving a voice to the voiceless.
Now I’ve finally given myself a voice, too.
“It never should have come to that. I shouldn’t have been forced to make those kinds of threats. If you would have stood up for me when I begged you to—”
He holds up his hands. “I know. I understand that now. I thought you were happy. You and Jameson seemed to get along quite well.”
“It doesn’t matter if we get along. I used that same argument to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal, too. Convinced myself it wasn’t worth the fight. But it was never about whether we got along. Whether he made me smile. It was about the fact that you and everyone else in that room took away my freedom to choose.”
“I see that now. And I apologize.”
I tilt my head back, looking at the ornate ceiling before refocusing my stare on him. “It’s too late for apologies. While I appreciate that you finally stood up for me, it’s too little too late. You had so many chances to put an end to this. But you refused every single one. Allowed me to be used as a pawn in whatever game Silas Archer is playing.”
“Archer’s harmless.”
I raise a brow. “He was your father’s private secretary. Now your mother’s most trusted advisor, as well as a senior member of the privy council. I wouldn’t call that harmless.”
“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” he says, ignoring my remarks. “Is there some cookware or something you’d like, perhaps?”
“I’m not a child anymore. You can’t buy me ice cream or a new toy in the hopes all will be forgotten.”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know. I just…” He meets my eyes. “I’m not very good at being a father.”
This is probably one of the most honest things I’ve ever heard him admit.
“Your mother was so good at it.” He looks into the distance, a nostalgic gleam in his gaze. “Whenever either of you were upset about something, she knew what to say or do to make it better. Granted back then, sometimes all you needed was a hug or a new stuffed animal. Since she died…” He heaves a sigh, his lower lip quivering. “Well, suffice it to say I’ve fallen down on the job of being a parent. Since I was never any good at it, I focused on something I am good at… Leading this country.”
I take a few slow steps toward him, placing my hand on his arm. “You don’t have to be any good at being a parent. It’s not a competition. You want to earn back my respect? Be there for me when I need you. Put me and Anderson first instead of the bloody royal household.”
He nods, closing his eyes before returning them to me.
“I promise to do better.”
“I need more than a promise. I need you to prove you’ve changed with your actions.” I allow my words to linger for a beat before stepping back and curtseying toward him. “Your Majesty.”
Then I spin around and walk through the halls of Lamberside Palace for what I hope will be the last time for a while.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Esme
“You’d better be safe,” I tell Anderson as I squeeze him tightly, not wanting to let go.
I’d originally planned to wait until he left on deployment to return to Paris, but that wouldn’t have given me any time to get settled before starting classes. I didn’t want to get kicked out of culinary school on the first day.
Instead of spending an extra week here, I opted to head to Paris so I’m prepared to fully immerse myself in the culinary arts, as well as brush up on my French since I’ve been out of practice all summer.
“I will be,” Anderson assures me.
“I mean it.” I poke him in the chest, giving him a stern look. “Don’t do anything stupid because you think you’re invincible. Bullets don’t care if you’re a royal or not.”
“So you’ve told me. About a hundred times in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Because I know how thick-headed you are.” I playfully swat the side of his head.
“Then you’d better be safe, too. Don’t do anything stupid because you think you’re invincible. Hot ovens don’t care if you’re a royal or not.” He winks.
