Page 104 of Royal Rising

Kind of asked.

And I have no desire to bring it up because my head is swimming at the thought.

I sleep late on Wednesday, curled up with Ernie in bed. It’s not often I get a lazy morning, and I take full advantage. But when I finally get up, I head to my parents’, avoiding the bar like the plague, because if I go in, I’ll be stuck there for the day.

I find my father in his garden. He has several—his vegetable garden is half the size of a farmer’s field, with neat rows of corn and peas, beans and broccoli as well as cucumbers, squash, and pumpkins which take up the most room. Tall sunflowers separate the garden from the lawn.

As well as the vegetables, Dad has an herb garden, one for roses, and a patch in the shade with different hostas spreading out in circles. But my favourite is his flower garden. Clumps of tall echinacea mixed with black-eyed Susans and daisies, foxgloves in the early summer blend into lilies and colourful phlox rounds out the season.

When I’m at the bar and dealing with drunks more obnoxious than usual, I think of the flower garden and it makes me happy.

It’s good that they have enough property. The farmhouse sits on fifty acres outside Battle Harbour, but Dad has always rented out the fields since he never had time to farm it. And now, being retired and on oxygen, my mother won’t let him.

He has enough to do with his gardens.

I find him among the vegetables attacking weeds with the hoe. The scar tissue eroding his lungs makes it difficult for him to bend over, so he piles the crabgrass and dandelions into a heap to pick up later.

It’s like I’ve forgotten how nice the sun can be in the summer. After days of rain, it feels amazing to be outside, even with the cool breeze coming in from the ocean.

Dad sees me approaching and leans on his hoe as I walk up. “Any word on the king?” he calls.

I shake my head and give him a hug. “But it’s good. He went home yesterday and he’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s what the news says but what is the family saying?” I’ve never been sure what my father misses the most about no longer working at the castle—spending all the time in the gardens or having a direct line to the goings-on of the family.

He’s always been more of a royal family watcher than even my mother.

“They’re saying the same thing,” I reassure him. “He’s going to be okay. Apparently, he’s not fond of the appendix though.”

“Good to hear. And I’m sure Kalle thinks so too.”

“They all do.”

Dad attacks a dandelion with the corner of his hoe. “He knows the people would rally around him when the time comes, doesn’t he?”

Does he? I have no idea because, like everything else important, he won’t talk about it.

He likes to talk about me; what he’d like to do if we had time, how exactly he’d like to kiss me—

He talks about that quite a lot.

“I think he’s figuring that out,” I manage. “I hope.”

“How are you and Mathias making out?” Dad asks, surprising me. Not only because he’s never asked anything about any of the men I’ve dated, but because I’ve forgotten to tell my parents that nothing will be happening with Mathias. Not that I make a point to discuss my dating life with my family, but Mathias being part of the royal family made it a little different.

I also can’t believe my sisters didn’t say anything. The family grapevine works faster than 5G internet.

“We’re not,” I tell him.

Dad looks up with a relieved smile. “Glad to hear it. I remember him as a little kid. Poisonous, him and his brother both. His father was worse than both of them.”

“I figured that out, but it might have been nice to have the inside scoop.”

“You’re a smart girl,” he says. “Besides, I doubt you would have listened to me.”

“I would have listened.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. And I don’t blame you, since I’m only your father.”