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“But I’m the princess, I would be next in line.”
“Ye are a princess, a woman, so if there are men who want the throne ye would hae tae prove yer strength tae keep it.”
I looked up at his face. “That’s why I have you…?”
He nodded. “Aye, but… twill be verra dangerous. Ye saw Robert the Bruce tryin’ tae gain his throne. Tis by all rights his, but still… he fought many battles and has more tae go.”
“So if such a thing happened, you would be my sword?”
“Aye, I would, but I would greatly prefer if Max would stay alive and hold the throne for himself.”
I said, “Me too.”
I looked around the luxurious bedroom. “I haven’t given one second of thought to being here, a royal, a princess.”
“Aye, I can tell, ye daena act like a princess at all.”
He chuckled.
I said, “You’re being sarcastic.”
“I am, ye behave like a princess, not sure what ye could do that would be more of a princess.”
“How many princesses have you met besides me?”
“None.”
“Then how would you know?”
“I daena ken, in my heart ye hae always seemed like a princess tae me, and I want tae protect ye.”
“That’s probably just because you love me so much, but honestly I have no idea how to be a princess. There is a man here who is the Minister of Defense and I’m supposed to speak to him, but… what on earth for? I really need Max to be the king. He seems like he knows exactly how to be one.”
“He has thought the matter over a great deal. Preparing his whole life for it.”
“We just need him to survive.”
49
ALEXANDRIA
MAX’S HOSPITAL ROOM - SEPTEMBER 24, 2185
As we walked down the corridors headed back to the infirmary. I said, “Are we going the right way?”
Torin nodded, “A different way but I think I hae it figured out.”
“Good, I’m kinda too overwhelmed to pay attention.”
Torin asked, “Is it good to be home?”
I walked quietly for a moment, then said, while looking down at my shoes, treading on the fine carpet, “I suppose so, you know, my parents built this for me and Max, just because I don’t remember them or this place, doesn’t mean…”
My voice trailed off as we came on a large oil painting of King Normond and Queen Olivia, leaning against the wall. It had been taken down, likely by Rannald, and looked like now it was waiting to be hung again.
I slowed, then stopped in my tracks in front of it.
“Yer parents.” He said, simply.
