Carson returned and stood to attention. “King Pradwick.”
Garlain quickly whispered to his sister. “We will continue this at a later time.”
A man with dark, flowing hair and a royal beard one would imagine a fairytale prince wearing flung his gold and green embroidered cloak over his shoulder as he passed Carson and let out a low, long “Aah.”
His gaze passed over Simone, who dipped down in a curtsy. He took in Morla and Garlain.
“I am much pleased you have returned, Sir Garlain.”
“Your Majesty.” Garlain bowed low. “Thank you for persevering with me and allowing Princess Morla to attend me in my grief.”
“You are my Knight Commander,” the king said as if that explained his actions.
The king’s attention rested on Bree. He stroked his beard and smiled. “You have returned to your home.”
Bree glanced at the others then back to the king. Yes, hisgaze was firmly planted on her. She widened her eyes in enquiry at him.
But before he could answer her unspoken question, Morla hugged him. “I missed you, Father.”
The king chuckled and after a quick hug pushed her from him. “I missed you too, daughter.” He stepped back and regarded them all. “Welcome home all. We will take refreshment in the great hall.”
He strode regally through another set of open wooden doors on the right. As the others followed him, Bree stayed put, staring after him. The great room was larger than the main room of her cousin and her husband’s castle in Scotland but held the same long tables all set vertically to the main table at the opposite end of the room. That horizontal table, she guessed, was where the royal family sat. Like Abby’s laird, the king would always want full view of the entire room.
The king and the rest of Bree’s party stood behind high-backed chairs. Two other females, one a young blonde woman standing on the king’s right, and the other, a young dark-haired girl sitting on what looked to be a homemade wheelchair at the end of the table, were both regarding Bree and Horland with quizzical gazes.
Horland placed his arm around her shoulders. “It seems the king knows who you are.”
Bree rubbed her temples. “It sure looks that way, but how?”
Horland chuckled. “Mayhap, my love, we can find out if we sit at his table.”
The king kept standing and appeared to be waiting for Bree and Horland to join them.
Bree clicked her tongue. “I guess so.”
They hurried to two empty chairs opposite the king and sat down. Garlain was on Bree’s left and Simone sat next to Garlain. The king sat exactly opposite Bree, and the youngwoman sat on his right with Morla on his left, and the child not much older than Kieri sat at the end of the table. Kieri took a spot on the end next to Horland, leaning close and whispering to the girl. They giggled. The king threw them a hard stare, but nothing on his face showed he was in the least angry at the pair.
Serving men and women filled chalets of wine, some placing platters of meats, raw vegetables, and fruit in the middle of the long table.
The king waved his hand at the serving staff. “Leave us now.”
They bowed and curtsied and left post haste.
The king stood and raised his chalet. “Welcome home, Briana. I am King Pradwick, ruler of the kingdom of Pradwick, and these are my daughters,” he opened his palm toward the tell, pretty woman on his right. “Princess Leeta.” He indicated Morla on his left. “You know Princess Morla, and the small one at the end of the table is Princess Tilly.”
Bree smiled widely at the newly introduced princesses and nodded at Morla.
“How do you know me?” Bree asked the king.
He chuckled and pulled a hand full of folded papers out of his pocket. As he opened and straightened the papers, Bree realized they were photographs. The king turned the first photo toward Bree.
It was a picture of her at Garrett’s wedding. Bree frowned at the king. He chuckled again and showed her another picture, that one of her at Abby’s wedding. And another of her at Izzy’s wedding and another at Max’s party.
“How did you get all these?”
“Mark and Dianne left them with me to give to you. I do apologize for their wear, but I have carried them around for months in expectation of just this moment. I wanted to make you feel comfortable from the moment we met. Your aunttold me how sad you had been as you grew up, and I wanted to make you feel like we are old friends.” He grasped her in his gaze. “We are friends, you and I, just as Patricia was and Dianne and Mark are still my friends.”
“When was the last time you saw Mark and Dianne?”
