Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Love,
Your Father, The late King.
Chapter Ten
Zautland
I got married just like that.
And just like that, everyone left one by one.
Until the three kings.
All of us were left while Samira went to get changed out of her dress with her maid.
I sat on the couch and stared into the fire. “So you guys knew?”
Arthur glanced up at the ceiling. “Oh look, a smudge, think I might grab more wine.”
Frederick just sat motionless. “I wasn’t sure.”
“Of me?”
“Of you both coming through. I wanted it for you, I wanted it for both of you, to find true love, but at one point…” He hesitated. “I hate to say this, but I finally thought, why not me? Not for the Kingship of all the countries but her, because she fights and I like that fight and I realized my entire life I’ve been sitting in the dark, you know? Just wanting to fight but getting tired thinking about it until someone rises from the ashes and says, I’ll take the throne, I’ll take the final blow, I’ll do it. And that person was you. I was jealous for a few days. I was jealous after that kiss, and then hearing about the cabin, rescuing you guys, seeing you.” He tossed back more whiskey and shook his head. “I’m not a good friend.”
“Why?”
“Because I still don’t like it.”
“It’s okay that you don’t, you could always stand up at the formal wedding and scream no!”
He shook his head. “Yes, that would be out of character, wouldn’t it?”
“Heads may roll.”
He sighed. “The heart wants what it wants and sometimes the heart is a beat too late.”
I closed my eyes. “And sometimes, it’s not because you were late, but waiting for something else, someone else.”
Frederick jerked his head toward me. “I’m not that hopeful.”
I grinned. “You should be, friend. Who wouldn’t want you?”
“Salt in the wound. Cheers.” He lifted his drink, and I realized that no matter what happened, at least I had family, I had brothers. Which reminded me, I’d get to see my sister and adoptive parents at my coronation for the first time in two years. I smiled, it was all worth the sacrifice. It was all worth it.
I murmured to myself. “Merry Christmas.”
Chapter Eleven
Samira
Wedding day
It was my coronation on Christmas and the “official” wedding day, my parents were sitting in the pews at the old church, my father refused to walk me down the aisle despite me marrying the king because the new King was new.
He wasn’t one of us, according to him. He was new money even though he was technically the King, he was the heir, but he wasn’t good enough because he didn’t know our values, he didn’t know our culture.
Again, all according to my father, who was currently sitting in the front row, head straight, bow tie perfect, black suit immaculate.
I wanted to scream at him.
It might have been the first time in my entire life that I wanted to yell at my father, to tell him he was wrong, and then I had this sickening feeling.
I’d been just like that.
Staring straight ahead, judging everyone around me, losing them in the process because protocol called for something different.
My heartbeat picked up.
I stared down at my white-gloved fingers and thought. It wasn’t that my life was a lie, or that I was having a total epiphany, it was just that I’d been wrong, in so many ways, in the way I treated others, but also in the way I treated myself.
Maybe, mainly in the way I treated myself.
I had no grace for myself. I expected perfection of a very imperfect person and couldn’t even take small moments to appreciate, all in the name of protocol.
I stood there, utterly alone because of that protocol.
I had to walk down that aisle alone because he wasn’t willing to give up his pride to the Yankee King.
I took a deep breath when the music started. The doors hadn’t opened yet, but I’d walk down this aisle to my King utterly and completely alone.
I lifted my chin, the way I always did. I could do this in front of the three kingdoms, in front of the three—
“—Need assistance?” Frederick asked to my right.
“Of course she does,” Arthur said to my left. “Shall we?”
I sniffled and looked down. “Are you trying to break me and make me cry the way you did when I was little and you put a frog in my bed?”
Frederick chuckled. “You aren’t broken, Samira, you’ve always been whole, see yourself the way we see you, more importantly, the way the King sees you.”
“Not,” Arthur chimes in, “just as his bride, but as his partner.”
My lips wobbled as I tried to get the words out. “Protocol states that I have to be escorted by my father the Duke of—”
“—Shhhh.” Arthur laughed. “We’re kings. We. Three. Kings. And we say what’s protocol. Now. We walk.”