“No, I mean, how did you know that she would choose me back?”
Father merely shrugs. “I had a hunch. And also, your cousin was rather convinced that Lady Graf is—I believe the phrase she used was—ass-over-tits in love with you.”
Something between a laugh and a sob chokes out of me as I wrap my father in the tightest embrace I dare in his thin state. “I was in misery this morning,” I mumble into his shoulder.
“And now you are not,” Father declares. “Funny how life works out, hm?”
Pulling back, I’m bolstered by that glimmer of playful trickery on Father’s face that I thought illness had squashed. “I’m still trying to decide whether that set-up was cruel or not.”
The king waves that away. “You know our Trixie can never pass up a chance at a dramatic reveal.”
I snort.Too true.
Father pats me on the shoulder again. “Are you just going to stand here all day, or are you going to go get your woman?”
My face hurts from how wide I’m smiling, laughter bubbling up from my chest as I race out the back door of the press hall and beeline for the side entrance where Brenton is already waiting. There’s only one thought on my mind as we wind through the busy capital streets.
Aurelia is at my house, and she is mine.
