“How could she not have looked into her? After all these years?” Althea is beyond incredulous, as we all are.
“No clue. I can’t imagine if it had been one of my children. I’d have strangled that woman with my bare hands until she took me to them.”
“I knew your father was having affairs,” Althea admits. “That was never a secret, and I knew it broke your mother’s heart. She loved him and he never cared for her. When he was murdered and Desta was taken, all she spoke of was the curse. She blamed it for everything. I think her title and appearance were the only things she felt she had control over, and she did whatever it took to protect that. Including sacrificing her own daughter.”
I shake my head and stand, scrubbing my hands up and down my face. “This is fucked.” So much so that I’m having trouble grappling with it. “I’m going to go see my wife and make sure she’s okay.”
“By calling it a curse, your mother excused her responsibility in this,” Althea continues.
“She excused your father’s as well. A curse does not remove a person’s free will and their actions had nothing to do with a curse. They are the reason this happened, nothing else.”
“Maybe. But some moments more than others it feels impossible to ignore the reality of our family.”
I leave Rowan and Althea here, needing a moment to myself. Needing my wife’s smiling face and sunshine disposition. I feel it creeping back in. The darkness. I need to find a way to shake it before it consumes me once again. I have matters of state to attend to. My country needs me and my entire being has been so focused on this madness with Desta.
Now that we’re officially out of hiding, I’ve been invited to Switzerland as part of a global summit with other world leaders and members of royal families. I’ve put off responding, but maybe that’s what I need.
Movement at my feet startles me, and I find the rodent otherwise known as Arthur playfully scampering around my feet.
Reaching down, I scoop him up in my arms before he can cause more trouble, and he settles into my chest, nuzzling me affectionately. “Why aren’t you in your cage?” I ask, already knowing the answer. The children never leave him that way, and within a few days, this thing has now come to roam the palace as he likes. “No more mischief,” I tell him. “And stay the hell out of my study and office.”
He makes some sort of chirping noise, and though I’m remiss to admit it, he’s kind of cute when he looks at you with his tiny beady eyes and twitchy nose. If only my mother had seen him. She would have freaked out and gone screaming from here. I take the long route, walking past the back windows to find Zayer and Sabrina outside with Emily, playing croquet of all things.
I set him down and say, “Go play with them.” Then I head straight for Bellamy’s father’s room, tapping softly on the door when I reach it.
“Come in,” she calls out in a singsong voice that thaws some of the ice that has been re-forming around my heart since my mother stepped foot in the palace. The door opens with a small creak and I find the two of them are watching television together on the other side of the large suite.
“Am I disturbing?”
She shakes her head, her contagious smile lighting up her face. “Not at all. What do you think, Dad? Should Sebastian come in and watch with us?”
He looks up at me with a smile, his eyes soft and round. He’s had his shower and seems to be in good spirits. “Actually, I’d like to go for a walk,” he says, and Bellamy instantly springs to her feet.
“Then let’s do it. It’s nice outside.”
“Are you sure? It’s always cold in Boston this time of year.”
Her smile slips an inch, but she holds it as best she can. “You’re right, it is. But it’s beautiful in this part of Messalina today. Come on.”
“Actually, Sabrina and Zayer are outside playing croquet with Emily. I’m sure they’d love you to join them.”
“Croquet,” he tests the word on his tongue as if he’s never heard it before, but he lets it go, taking Bellamy’s hand and following both of us out to the garden. I’m relieved the children didn’t see my mother. I had planned on her staying through dinner and spending the night and thought she’d get to spend time with them then.
Now my children will grow up without knowing their grandmother, and though I know that was the right decision, part of me mourns it too. I breathe in deeply, taking in the crisp, cool air that fills my lungs. Bellamy helps her father into a chair and comes over and stands beside me, her expression questioning.
“Later,” I tell her.
Her hand rests on my chest as she stares up at me. “I take it it didn’t go well?”
“No, it didn’t go well, and I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear you’ll never have to see my mother again.”
Bellamy frowns, her hand sliding up to cup my cheek. “That doesn’t make me happy. She’s your mother.”
“Not a good one, and she more or less hasn’t been my mother since I was fifteen.”
“If you’re not happy, I’m not. She was…”
I smirk. “You can say it. Someone might as well.”
