“But not now,” Morla said, indicating the crowd to Garlain with her eyes.
“Inside then,” Garlain said.
Morla narrowed her eyes at him. “The king will want to see us immediately.”
Garlain straightened his back. “The king will have to wait; Simone needs to know all.”
Bree smiled at Morla’s pout. That woman was one spoiled princess.
Without another word, Morla strode up the castle steps. Bree grinned at Horland and, placing his arm around her waist, he nodded. Along with Kieri, Garlain and Simone, they followed Morla.
Carson, the king’s man, opened the great doors and bowed before Princess Morla, all the while eyeing her companions. Bree wondered at his age. He had gray hair, but he stood straight, and his broad shoulders showed strength in his physicality. His eyes widened at the sight of Bree, but whatever he thought of her being there, he kept his opinions to himself.
Once they all trundled into the grand entrance, Carson said, “Wait here. I will let the king know of your return.”
Morla tipped her head back and held her chin high. “I can tell him.”
Carson eyed Morla with a look that said,You’ll do as I say.
Morla huffed. “So be it,” she said, flicking her hand in the direction of a walkway beside the grand stairs as if to tell him to go.
Bree put her hand over her mouth to stop the giggle rising from her chest. Carson had apparently dealt with Morla before—he’d probably had to keep her in line since she was an infant, and Bree admired the respect he elicited from Morla.
At least Bree thought Morla had great respect for the man, but as soon as his back was turned, the princess poked her tongue at him.
Bree giggled. Garlain berated, “Morla.” Simone stared at the princess in horror. And Horland just shook his head.
Morla turned to face Bree, a wide smile growing on herface. “I am long out of his schoolroom, but he still makes me feel like a misbehaving child.” She shrugged. “Flashing my tongue is the only way I feel like I’ve won the upper hand still.”
“But only when he’s not looking?” Bree said.
“Perhaps.”
Simone pulled on Garlain’s sleeve. “Tell me what happened.” She tipped her head to the side and looked at Bree. “And who is she?”
He sighed and clasped Bree’s hand and pulled her to his side. “Simone, what I am about to tell you will be hard for you to believe, but I need you to trust what I have to say is the truth.”
“I always trust you, brother.”
He glanced around as if to make sure there were no one to hear but still, he lowered his voice. “This is Briana. My daughter.”
“What?” Simone gasped. “Do you think this is the time to jest? Your daughter would only be a babe of one year, maybe a bit more, but much less than two years of age.”
“It’s true,” Morla said. “She travelled from the future to find her father and while it has been a long time for her—as you see, she’s grown—the time has not passed so long for us.”
Simone kinked her head at Morla. “You, I do not trust. Especially now that I know you have kept my brother prisoner these long months.”
“I wasn’t a prisoner,” Garlain said. “I was grieving, and I could no longer take the day-to-day goings and comings of the kingdom. I wanted to be alone.”
“But you had Morla with you,” Simone said.
Garlain glanced at Morla and shook his head. “Not by choice, sister, not by choice.”
“Oh now,” Morla said. “You would have died if it wasn’tfor me. I kept you company when no other could, and remember, I saved you.”
“You did,” Garlain said, but turned his attention to his sister, who opened her mouth to speak. Garlain placed his finger on her mouth. “There is more I must tell you but just know this: Patricia will always be in my heart.” He glanced at Bree. “I have a daughter to think of now, a daughter who I am aggrieved to discover has grown into a beautiful young woman without her father.” He sucked in his lips. “We have much to thank Mark and Dianne for. They stepped in when I couldn’t, and they made sure Briana and I would be reunited.”
Simone looked at Bree and rubbed her eyes. “She looks like Patricia and Dianne, but she has your hair coloring.” She stepped closer to Bree and inspected her face. “I do believe you are related to Patricia, but her daughter? Garlain’s daughter? That I cannot believe.”
