“Scared?”
“Of love? Not anymore. I’m a bit unsure, but I’m not scared.”
Ernst angled over the table. “Love. Rare. Don’t miss.”
They faced off for a few seconds. “Ernest, Ididpropose,” John said. “She turned me down. Said the Heart of God clocks had struck midnight and our spell was broken. She’s was probably right. I was caught up in the moment and the fact she wore a gown covered in feathers.”
“She scared.”
“Maybe for good reason.”
“Pfffbt. You make too much. Love. Rare. Don’t miss.”
Did he love her? Enough to endure the public scrutiny? The bigger question was if she lovedhim. Enough to endure the tabloids, the gossip, the invasion of her privacy. It was a very tall demand.
“Mind if I join you chaps?” The man in the long anorak and wide-brimmed hat from the palace grounds and the hospital, from Wilford’s story, pulled up a chair.
“Emmanuel. Down mountain? Goodness. World ending?” Ernst snapped for Betsy to bring the man a pint.
“The world is not ending just yet, my friend. But you’re ready when it does. Stay alert.” Emmanuel laughed with Ernst. A sound John felt in his belly. “A pint and some of Stella’s good battered and fried fish sound good.”
Ernst’s eyes glistened as he patted the mountain man on the shoulder. “Prince?” he said with a sniffle. “Emmanuel? Know?”
“We’ve seen one another.”
The big man with the bonfire eyes offered his hand. “Emmanuel, and it’s my pleasure, Your Royal Highness.”
“Likewise.” Emmanuel’s grip was strong, warm, and electric. Moments after John drew away, his fingers still sparked.
They engaged in a simple chat to the ebbing and flowing noise of the pub. A man from the kitchen tossed another big log on the fire, and the flames shot up. Emmanuel watched, a calm on his face John didn’t recognize. It was regal, sublime, and timeless.
“Who are you?” John said more to himself than Emmanuel.
“A friend. Comforter. Counselor.”
“Healer?” John leaned toward him. “What did you do when you visited Briley? Why did you visit Briley?”
“I watched him running over the plain the first day Wilford let him run. So powerful, so assured, doing what he was made to do.”
A sense of yearning gripped John. He wanted to run, do what he was born to do. This man was a spiritualist.
“I’ve seen you in the palace gardens. I saw you visit the queen at the hospital. Who are you and what do you want from me?”
Ernst appeared with the affable Stella, his wife, and set down a pint and plate of fish for Emmanuel.
He took a long drink then sampled his fish. “Ernst’s food is the best around.”
“Yes, it is.” But he didn’t want to talk about Ernst or Stella’s cooking.
“You loved Briley, Prince John, even when he was struggling. You hired the best groomsman and doctor to give him care. You didn’t give up on him when others told you to put him down. Now look, a year later, he’s come right.”
“I always believed in him, in Wilford and the team. But you were the one who made all the difference.”
“What about Gemma? Gemstone, as her father calls her. Are you going to put her down?”
Gemstone?“See here, I demand an explanation of your intimate knowledge of my life. My friends.”
Emmanuel sighed as he swallowed another bite of fish and reached for his napkin. “I was thinking when you love someone, truly love, you stand by them when the chips are down. You don’t give up. If you can give Briley all the chances in the world, why not Gemma? You’ve certainly been given chances to be who you were made to be.”
