Page 66 of Royal Rising

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. There’s a little water damage in the corner. If Mathias hadn’t asked Edie to dance—if he had asked Kate, or even Fenella—would there still be this strange vibe between me and Edie?

I think so, yeah. If I’m being completely honest, I’d say Mathias gave it a kick in the pants, but he didn’t cause it.

Edie causes it, because she’s Edie. And I’m going to lose her if I don’t do something.

I watch her sleep, listening to the steady intake of breath that borders on snoring, but not obnoxious snores. Sweet snores. I’m fascinated by the way she flexes her fingers. How her hair curls at her temples.

And then I notice the cat watching me watch Edie. “What?” I hiss.

Ernie closes his eyes.

As if she realizes I’m watching her, Edie’s eyes flicker open. “You’re here,” she whispers in a sleep-thickened voice.

“Yeah. Power is back on.”

She rolls over to check the clock radio beside her bed but comes back to face me. “Is it still storming?”

“Maybe. But not for long.”

I wake up in her bed and we’re talking about the weather.

“Mathias asked me to come visit him,” she whispers.

I’d rather keep talking about the weather.

“He wants me to go with him when he leaves,” she continues.

I close my eyes and fight the urge to roll away, to roll far away from this conversation. “Yeah?”

She strokes the cat and his purring is loud in the room. “Why don’t you like him?”

This is getting heavy way too fast. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“It does.” Her brown eyes, suddenly wide awake, stare at me. A gust of wind rattles her windows.

“It’s not him,” I hedge. Talking about the past is like trying to dig a hole with my bare hands—time-consuming and it’s going to leave my fingers scratched and bleeding.

I should have gotten right out of bed when I woke up.

But I stay beside her.

“It’s your uncle,” Edie guesses. She’s always been able to see inside me, to know what I’m thinking, sometimes even before I know it myself. “What did he do?”

“It’s what he said,” I say, my voice tight. “What they said.”

“About you?” It takes a moment to swallow, so I nod instead. “Tell me,” she urges.

“That I shouldn’t be king,” I say in a dull monotone. “That I would never amount to anything. That someone like me had no right thinking I could rule because I would only end up ruining what Leif wanted.” There’s more. I remember everything that was said to me, word for word, but I remember what I overheard even more, because Dante and his sons wouldn’t have to hold back about what they really thought of me.

Stupid. Incompetent. Selfish. Unable to rule.

I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at Edie pitying me.

“Kalle…”

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