Page 104 of The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck

“I’m being as forthright as I can be.”

“Which is not much. The optics aren’t great, are they?” he asks. “Your heir doing a runner and all. Those rumors about your own marriage falling apart.”

The king’s lips are a fine line. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Of course not. Because we’re not really family. Family are the people who care for you, and that has never been you.”

“It would be foolish of you to be pining for some emotional outpouring from me.”

“But when you use me to deflect attention with the media, you put Lilah in the frame as well. I don’t like that.”

“The world knows who you are, Alistair. There’s nothing I can do to remedy that.”

“There’ve been many things you could have done over the years to try and ease the way for me. Whether it be encouraging your pet paparazzi to give me space or to send a simple message of support and fatherly affection. But you chose to do none of those things.” Alistair’s fingers tighten around mine. I give his hand a squeeze. Just to let him know I am with him. And his grip eases some. “Now you decide I can be useful.”

The king’s nostrils flare like a pissed-off stallion. There’s every chance Alistair gets his temper from that side of the family. Though he generally hides it better.

“I have no interest in attending your garden party, Father. Nor will I be marrying someone you choose for me. What Iwillbe doing is spending time with my fiancée and working on my relationship with my mother. Someone who I can now see I have been a complete dick to for no good reason.”

“You should be with someone suitable,” the king argues. “Someone who could handle the public demands of your position.”

“I should be with someone I love who makes me happy.”

“As if that lasts...” The king scoffs. “You have a position to uphold. Like it or not, you come from bloodlines that require things of you.”

“I don’t owe you a fucking thing.”

“Marrying this woman would be a mistake. She is—”

“It would not be wise of you to finish that sentence,” Alistair says in a low tone.

It would also be fair to say I have had enough of being insulted by royal assholes this week. “Time for some fresh air. I’m going to go stand out by the pool. Right there where you can see me, okay?”

Alistair frowns. “Keep the glass door open, please.”

I nod and give his hand another squeeze before heading out the front of the beach house. The king doesn’t deserve any sort of acknowledgment from me. Let them look down on me all they like. I refuse to care what they think. Life is too short to worry about the opinions of assholes.

Between the house and the beach is a large lagoon-style pool surrounded by assorted lounges and umbrellas. All the space Lady Helena could desire to loll about with a drink in hand. Lots of decorative rocks and seaside daisies with a neat row of hedges to maintain a boundary between her and the outside world. To try to protect her privacy without blocking too much of the view.

It’s warm today in the sun. I take off my shoes and wander onto the first step to get my toes wet. The pool is of course kept at a civilized temperature. My reflection wavers in the water surrounding my feet. Out here, I can breathe better already. What a morning. The idea of cuddling up in the guesthouse with Ali for the rest of the day is growing more appealing by the moment. Just lock out the world and enjoy the peace.

As promised, I stand where he can see me. By the pool with my back to the house, staring out at the ocean. On the off chance I don’t die, I am due back at work tomorrow. I’ve missed the books and stacks and all the avid readers. It would almost be a relief to return to a normal daily routine again. Nothing has been ordinary since I crossed paths with Good Witch Willow. Though the lotto money gives me the luxury of choice. To think of all those libraries out there I’ve always wanted to see, like the Strahov Library in Prague and the Starfield Library in Seoul. Ali mentioned something about wanting to travel. We could go together.

A flock of seagulls takes flight from down on the sand, and I turn my head to track them. One bird swoops in the general direction of the house before returning to the rest. Imagine owning a house with such a view. Lady Helena was right—it would be a nice place for a wedding. The way my heart squeezes tight in excitement at the thought. It makes a nice change from the ongoing angst. The man is going to give me arrhythmia. Perhaps that’s how I die—due to excessive swooning over a certain Scot. Not a bad way to go. To do such a death justice, I would really need a velvet chaise longue to genteelly collapse upon (while wearing some billowy white gown) and then expire with much Gothic romance drama.

Which is the absolute nonsense I am thinking when the seagull circles back and does another dive. And this time it’s aimed straight at my head. It all happens so fast. I wave my arms in the air to ward off the bird. It screeches and flaps its wings, coming at me yet again. You would think I was Tippi Hedren or a French fry or something. All of this fucks my balance, and my feet slip on the pool’s smooth ceramic tiles. I am falling before I even know what’s going on. The stone edge of the pool rises to meet my face and everything goes black.

When I come to, my throat is burning and my chest feels much the same. The world above me is a shapeless blaze of light that I don’t understand. Hands roll me onto my side and pool water gushes out of my mouth and nose. A Niagara Falls amount of the stuff. I do my best to choke down some air. It’s like oxygen has become a solid and my lungs have forgotten how to operate. The way they seize and stop and start. Oh my fucking God. There isn’t an inch of me that isn’t waterlogged and aching. But it’s my face that pounds in time with the beat of my heart.

“That’s it.” Alistair rubs my back with much vigor. “Get it out.”

“An ambulance is on its way,” says Dougal somewhere close by.

“She’s conscious. She’s okay,” answers Lady Helena. “Thank goodness!”

My vision swims andoh, shit. There is every chance I am about to black out. But I roll onto my back and those same strong hands are there to help me and hold me steady. I try to swallow and even that hurts.

“Take it easy, Leannan. Nice and slow.”

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