“Like you never snuck out to have a little fun at my age? We went dancing. Nothing happened,” Sorscha retorts.
“Somethingcouldhave happened. Do you not understand the danger? Whose idea was this? Was it Kai’s?” he grills. I can feel his bubbling anger all the way down the hall.
“It was all of ours,” she says obstinately. “Gods, this place is like a prison.”
“Yes, a prison of privilege and riches and every luxury you could dream of. You poor creature,” Derek regales sarcastically.
“I would rather be poor and happy than royal and miserable,” Sorscha boasts.
“You say that never having gone without your entire life.”
“When are you going to stop treating me like a child?”
“When you decide to stopactinglike one,” the king says tightly, smacking his hand down on the desk. He looses a longbreath. “I have been more than patient. It’s time you stopped partying and playing dress-up and started paying attention to politics. This is your legacy. My legacy. Your mother’s legacy?—”
“Donotbring her into this,” Sorscha snaps, her voice sharper than I’ve ever heard it.
“Whether you like it or not, you need to settle down and start making heirs. This kingdom will be yours one day.”
“I don’t care! None of that has ever interested me.”
“Well, unfortunately, this is your lot in life. Many have it far worse.”
“You mean, unfortunately, I’m your only heir.” Sorscha stands. “I’m sorry I wasn’t born a male.”
“That is not?—"
“No matter what I do, I’ll never live up to your expectations.”
“You’ve never even tried,” Derek says reflexively.
Silence ensues.
“Sorscha, I won’t be here forever to protect you—to look after you,” he says a moment later. His voice is a touch more gentle.
“I don’t need looking after.”
“Everyone does,” he sighs, sounding exhausted. “I have another meeting.”
“Your Grace,” Sorscha spits a second before the door flies open and she stalks out without seeing Max or me. We stare at each other open-mouthed for a beat.
“In you go,” Max nods toward the door after a moment.
I swallow hard and step forward gingerly. After one knock, the door floats open of its own accord.
“Your Grace.” I curtsy to the king, sitting at his cherry wood desk.
“Serena,” he regards me, rising.
“If this is a bad time, I can?—”
“No, no. Please come in.” He gestures for me to sit in one of the high-backed leather chairs across from his desk. Derek walks over and perches on the corner, his posture more casual than I’ve ever seen. But he looks worn out. Tired.
He runs a hand over his face, drawing his beard downward.
“I never dreamt that running a kingdom would be an easier feat than parenting.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I settle into the comfortable leather seat.
