Page 6 of Calling of the Crown

Even as I said the words—words I did mean—I could hear how hollow they sounded. Dallas slowly sat up, and Rune gripped my hand. He crooked a finger beneath my chin to tilt my face toward his. His eyes held mine as he whispered, “But?”

My throat dried as I fought to push past the weight that had been holding my words back. “But my parents aren’t here.” I cleared my throat and squeezed his hand hard. “This was their room, and because they’re gone, it’s mine now. There’s nothing left of them here.”

“That’s not true,” Dallas quickly argued. “They may be gone, Bria, but their memory still lives on here. They’re still with you. Of that I’m sure. And look, these are even their exact sheets and bedding from when this was their room. So some of their things are still here.”

Rune’s face immediately creased with disgust. “I don’t think that’s providing the comfort you intended. I highly doubt Bria wants to sleep in the same sheets that she was conceived in, Dallas.”

Her face fell with shock. “Oh, God. You’re right. That’s gross. I’ll have different bedding brought up pronto.”

Laughing, I felt the heaviness on my heart lift just a fraction. These were two of the most important people in my life, and having them make playful jabs at the other so easily, despite their history as enemies, made the space feel lighter. With more moments like this one, I could give the room new life and warmth. Rune and I could make it our own and fill it with nothing but good memories.

Dallas picked at the comforter—which I definitely couldn’t wait for her to change—and she coughed. She bit at her lip, and as soon as I saw the guarded, nervous look in her eye, I knew she was about to lay something big on me.

Again.

“Spit it out, Dallas,” I ordered with a sigh.

“It’s already getting late, and I’m sure you’re overwhelmed by everything. I figured I’d let you and Rune have the rest of the night to unwind up here. You know, get used to all the different rooms on this floor and stuff. I can have dinner sent up for you, and then we can meet in the morning to really get down to business.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why do I feel like that’s not all you’re wanting to tell me?”

She nibbled on her lip again. “It’s not.” She took a deep breath. “Before you settle in, there’s one more room on this floor that I think you should see. Alone. It’s out in the hall—the farthest door down the right-side hallway.”

Apprehension stormed my veins. “Why should I see it alone?”

She paused, then quietly said, “Because it’s a special place meant for you.”

Chapter Three

I LEFT MY NEW BEDROOM in search of this mysterious place I needed to see alone. The door I had been tasked with finding looked like all the others—an iridescent pearl color with a seaweed-style handle. I stared at it, trying to prepare myself for what I might be stumbling into.

A special place meant for me.

Alone.

Is it a lingerie closet?

I better not be expected to wear the same lingerie as my mom.

Completely curious now, I took a deep breath and opened the door. A sharp pain immediately pierced my gut, and my next inhale got caught in my lungs. The door swung open the rest of the way, revealing a long-forgotten nursery. A silver crib tucked against the wall with an ocean-themed mobile hanging above it. A shelf with books covered in so much dust that no one could read the titles without wiping the grime away. A toy bin, full of untouched treasures. A single padded chair, sat empty for decades.

A strangled cry tried to break the seam of my lips, but I forced it back as I moved into the room. I tried to look at everything all at once, too hungry to see all that I’d never had a chance to before. That’s when I noticed a large tome sitting on the chair.

Slowly, I approached the seat, and as I lifted the book, I sank onto the soft cushion. I didn’t notice the dust that clouded the air when I sat down, because I was too focused on the silver leatherbound book in my hands.

The spine cracked as I opened it, and tears instantly sprang to my eyes. There on the old, weathered page were pictures, and even though I’d never seen the subjects before, I knew exactly who they were.

“Mom,” I whispered, running my finger gently over the photos. “Dad.”

Three photos took up the page. The first was a gorgeous, very pregnant woman. She smiled vibrantly at the camera, and I realized then that my deep blue eyes came from her. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and I noticed the strands were mostly blue, save for her nearly-white roots. The blue in her hair only served to make her eyes stand out more, and they left me breathless.

The next photo was similar, but this time, her slender fingers were placed lovingly over the bump of her belly. Her attention was no longer focused on the camera, but instead, she stared down at her belly with nothing but love painted over her face. My heart cracked right down the middle, and I had to fight past tears to see the third photo.

My dad was in this one, or rather, his side profile was. Even still, I could make out his dark hair and sea green eyes. He was too busy kissing my mother’s stomach to pay any mind to the camera, and my mom’s head was thrown back, caught forever laughing.

My hands began to shake, and tears dripped endlessly down my cheeks. I choked on another cry as I turned the page, and my soul broke all over again.

Taking up the entire expanse of the page was one photo. My parents stood side by side in a stunning dress and suit, ones truly befitting of a Queen and King. Neither paid any mind to the camera. Instead, their eyes were glued to the newborn—to me—in Alesta’s arms. She held me close, smiling down at me with unconditional, motherly love, and my father mirrored her grin as he stroked my cheek with one hand and held Alesta close with the other.

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