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“Goodbye, Marina,” he replied brightly. “Tell your uncle I can’t wait to visit Stadley.”
She chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I will.”
With that, holding tight to a carpet bag stuffed with books and notes, Marina headed for the carriage. Climbing inside and settling onto the squabs, she waved out of the window, putting on a cheerful face instead of letting her worries get the better of her.
As the carriage pulled away, William began to race after it, calling out cheerful goodbyes. She watched him with a laugh, but as the house began to shrink, her gaze flitted upward… to find a figure standing in one of the upper windows, arms behind his back, watching her go.
Forgive me, husband. Please, forgive me.
It took all of twenty-four hours for Anthony to feel as if he were losing his mind.
He had tried to accept her desire for space, had tried to distract himself with his work, had even tried to spend some time with his son, but nothing helped. He could not concentrate on a single thing with Marina swirling around in his head, his doubts and mistrust clawing at his brain like feral beasts. He could not sleep, could not eat, imagining the very worst.
Which was, perhaps, how he found himself outside the door to Marina’s personal library, wondering if he had a spare key.
“You can’t go in there,” William’s voice interrupted, sounding rather like his great-grandmother.
“I just want to look at something,” Anthony replied.
The boy narrowed his eyes. “Marina is doing something very important in London. She’s not doing anything bad.”
“Did she tell you what she was doing?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.
Why would she tell you and not me?
William shook his head. “No, she said she couldn’t tell me, but I know it’s not something bad. Marina doesn’t do bad things. Marina is… the best person in all the world.”
“You hardly know her,” Anthony pointed out.
“I know her better than I know you,” William retorted, his eyes cold. “And I won’t let you break into her library.”
Just a few weeks ago, Anthony might have lost his temper at such a disrespectful remark… but things had changed, whether Anthony could admit it or not. He knew he had not been the father his son deserved. He knew he saw the boy and thought of Emilia instead, judging him by his mother instead of his own merit.
Seeing William so joyful in Marina’s company had been the turning point, making Anthony realize that he was missing out. The trouble was, without her there, Anthony still did not quite know how to act around his son.
“You are right,” he relented, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “It is not my domain. Thank you for reminding me.”
William tilted his head to one side, looking at his father with open suspicion. “You are thanking me?”
“Sometimes, a knight must follow the lead of a crown prince,” Anthony said with an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck.
Heaven help me, I am no good at this.
The ghost of a grin turned up one corner of William’s mouth. “And sometimes, we both just have to wait for the queen to return from her quest.”
“Exactly.” Anthony breathed a small sigh of relief, for he had almost made his son smile.
“Shall we go to the kitchens for some cordial?” the boy offered.
An olive branch, certainly.
Anthony hesitated. “But we have not even had breakfast yet.”
“The queen is away, remember,” William said, finally allowing his grin to spread from ear to ear. “The rules don’t apply until she is back. Besides, a royal breakfast demands elderflower cordial.”
To his surprise, Anthony laughed. “Very well. I shall follow your lead once more, young prince.”
His heart jolted as William suddenly took his hand and began to pull him through the hallways to the kitchen. In all the eight years of William’s life, Anthony could not remember his son ever reaching for him. Indeed, the boy had likely learned that there was no point, when there was no affection to be given.
