Page 146 of Scarred Crown

“One of the gossip outlets got wind of the coronation, and the story was going to break. I couldn’t get it pinned down. I was afraid news of my disease would spill out with it. While I wasn’t ready to tell any of you, I didn’t want the two of you so far away if it came out.”

I absorb everything he says, and it makes me sad to realize something so joyous, the reunion between me and Jules, will be tied to my father’s disease. But at least some happiness has come out of something heartbreaking.

“I hear from Alexander that the two of you missed an important step in—” He frowns.

“Las Vegas.” I fill in for him when he seems to search for the word. “Does that happen a lot?” I’ve noticed it a few times, even more now that I know why.

“More than I’d like. Alexander has taken on many aspects of my position I would normally be fulfilling for fear of a misstep.” He shakes his head. “I realize you and Alexander aren’t close, which is a shame. Your mother and I probably should have done more to foster a connection. Some people are oil and water—even if they’re related.” He grimaces. “But Alexander is going to need your help and support. Do you understand that?”

I nod. Alex’s job will encompass the role my father used to have—his fingers in everyone’s slice of life to ensure the stability of the monarchy, the Summerset’s good name. I’ll be answering to my brother, a reality I’ve bucked for years.

“We’re in the process of mending some fences,” I say. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be best buds, but I think I’ve blamed Alex for a few of my own shortcomings.” I give a little laugh. “This growing up thing is painful sometimes.”

“As is growing old.” He shrugs. “It’s a privilege.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I try to clear it. “I, uh, have been doing some soul searching about the referendum as well. I’m, um, going to support your wishes.”

“I won’t hold it against you if your beliefs don’t align with mine. I’ve always been a proponent of open and honest debate.”

For a moment I run my hands along my thighs and try to gather my thoughts, the ones that won’t lead to a breakdown in my father’s office. “I’ve been fighting this for so long because I see assisted suicide as giving up. I like to believe there’s always hope. Tomorrow’s a new day. A cure for anything is just around the corner.” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “But I’ve come to realize that how anyone deals with disease is personal, and often filled with difficult choices. When either path leads to the same result, people should have the choice about which one they walk.”

When I finally have the guts to meet my father’s gaze, there are tears in his eyes. He sniffs and grabs a tissue from the box on his desk. “I want to be absolutely transparent. I’m not proposing this legislation so I can check out early. I’m going to fight as hard as I can, but when it’s clear there’s no more fight left in me, I don’t want to be trapped by the shell that’s left behind. Do you understand?”

No words are going to make it past my lips without a sob following behind, so I just nod and try to hold back the onslaught of tears.

My father comes around his desk, and he draws me into a tight hug, and I hug him back with the same force. I bask in the moment, file away every detail in my memory. The woodsy smell of him, the firmness of his arms around my frame, and the scent of peppermint that floats around us as he breathes.

“I love you, son,” he murmurs in my ear.

His words crack the dam, and the flood gates open. A sob escapes, and we hold each other while the tears and love mingle and flow.

Julia

When Nick comes back to our suite of rooms, his eyes are rimmed in red, and he looks exhausted. After he replays the conversation between him and his dad, he falls into bed and drags me down into the thick duvet with him.

“Are you sure you want to do dinner tonight?” I cuddle against him in bed, and he makes absent figure eights on my arm.

Tomorrow, all of us are supposed to meet to break the coronation marriage news to Alex. My mother, the king, and the queen wanted twenty-four hours to see whether there was a loophole in the manual to give them a plausible out of the clause.

“One hundred percent,” he says, and he kisses the top of my head. “Everything is all set. We just have to show up.”

“The joys of being a prince.” I chuckle.

“The joys of becoming my wife… again.” He gives me a little squeeze.

“We should go see Bahati, Elena, and Kafil. They go back the day after tomorrow.” I remind him.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. The doctor is worried about the amount of rehab available to them in Tanzania close to their village. The first foot needs to be in good shape before they do the second. What do you think about setting up some funded rehab centers? We can start small and see how it goes, and we’ll expand if and when we can. We can figure out how to train and sponsor locals to administer the work.”

“I love it.” I rise up on my elbow. “That’s such a great idea. Do you think we’ll need to fly back there to sort it out?”

“Probably be easier if we did. We should take a look at our schedules. Do you think you can do some of the coronation setup remotely?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ve been doing most of it from my bed in Posey’s spare room the last three days.”

“I overreacted.” He kisses my temple.

“I’m not sure you did. I wouldn’t make the same choice again, believe me.” Maybe if I’d told Nick earlier, we wouldn’t have fallen into such a mess of uncertainty. “I moved my stuff back in.”