Page 49 of Royal Rising

“Do you?” She leans back in her chair, half of her mushroom ravioli uneaten. “I didn’t think you wanted it.”

“I never said that,” I say, my gaze straying to the door like I’m looking for the quickest way to make an exit.

“You nevernotsaid that either,” Fenella points out. “Maybe that’s the problem—you haven’t found your person because you haven’t found yourself yet.”

How did we get to be talking about this? I change my mind about Fenella being fun. “I know who I am.”

“Of course you do,” she soothes.

“I’m the crown prince of Laandia, and someday, I might take the throne.”

“Is your father planning on acquiring immortality?”

“What?”

Fenella leans across the table, gaze holding mine. There’s something in the way she looks at me that calms the surge of temper. “There’s that word.Might.”

I shake my head. How else am I supposed to say I’m going to be king some day? I hate even thinking about it, let alone saying it.

“Mightimplies that there is a possibility that either you might not take the throne or your father will be there indefinitely,” Fenella says, dropping her voice so the table next door can’t eavesdrop, which they’ve been doing all night. “Or that there might not be a throne to take.” She blinks those purple eyes at me like she’s waiting for me to unleash all my emotions and concerns and thoughts on the matter.

I’m not doing that.

Why would I?

Just because the possibility of me not taking over as king has dodged me for my entire life despite doing what I can to avoid it. Instead of being like Odin, and learning what I needed, I played sports, excelling at everything I tried.

Unlike being king. I won’t be very good at that. In fact, I’m going to suck at it. I’m an athlete, a dumb jock, and a bar owner. Who would ever want me as their king?

I’m not telling Fenella that. I’m not telling anyone.

“So what’s the real thing you’re leaving for?” I ask, trying to move away from the part of me who wants to tell her all of this. The thought of telling someone is very tempting.

Must be something in this bread.

“There’s someone back home,” Fenella admits with a smile. “In LA, which is sort of my home base these days. At least I hope he’s a someone.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of Opium?”

“The drug or the band?”

“The band. The lead singer, Tiger Hennan and I… well, there’s something.”

“Enough to give up your chance with a prince?”

Fenella smiles prettily. “We both know there’s no chance here, as tempting as it may be to think so. You agree.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” I tell her ruefully.

“But you agree. I’d love to have another Laandian prince pining after me, but it’s not going to happen. Now, are we ordering another bottle of that pinot noir? You’ll need something to drown your tears in.”

“There’s notears.”

“Exactly why it would never work with us, handsome. Besides, I saw you at the wedding before I moved in. You’ve got something with Edie, and that—” She nods knowingly. “Is going to end up being more real than this.”

I don’t have it in me to argue.

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