Page 85 of Royal Rising

That was an hour and thirteen minutes ago. It’s a blur of faces and voices—of Spencer on the phone with Jonathan McKibbon, telling him to meet us at the bottom of the hill for a police escort. Of Dillon—who never took the night off—and Dad’s head of security, Etienne carefully—ever so carefully—carrying him to the biggest SUV, with Bo hovering and trying to support Dad’s back.

Minka, behind the wheel, ready to take off as soon as Gunnar is tucked in the second SUV with Dillon in charge. “It’s not a heart attack,” Gunnar keeps repeating. “He didn’t have a heart attack.”

Castle security moves in orchestrated precision, like they’ve planned for this.

How can you plan for your father to collapse during dinner?

I guess you have to when your father is the king.

They choose to drive him to the hospital instead of waiting for the ambulance because the castle is at the top of a cliff and we’re in the middle of a storm. Etienne has the paramedics on the phone as Minka takes off with him and Duncan. Dillon takes lead on the second SUV, with Gunnar, Stella, me, and Spencer. Bo and Lyra are with the rest of the security, and the last thing sight of my sister is her white face crumpling as Bo takes her in his arms.

The half-hour drive to the hospital takes seventeen minutes. Seventeen minutes of my father being unconscious. Not dead. I know he’s not dead because Spencer is on the phone with his father the entire trip down the hill.

When I look back on it, how Dillon careened down the hill, close behind the tail lights of the SUV that held my father, windshield wipers going double speed, and the darkness on either side threatening to swallow us whole, I will be terrified. Even Gunnar, whose top speed has been over two hundred miles an hour, hangs on tight, one hand on the strap affixed to the ceiling, the other gripping Stella’s hand so hard I’m sure she loses circulation.

They meet us at the hospital; Etienne doesn’t leave Dad’s side as they get him on a gurney and whisk him away, while Minka and Dillon shepherd us into a private waiting room, with Duncan torn at whom to follow.

Spencer pushes him toward Stella and heads to the front desk.

It’s as if a monster clutches at my chest, scrabbling for my heart, and I can barely breathe, can’t speak as I pace the waiting area, the voices of my family in a haze far beyond my understanding.

What if he dies? That’s the only thought that spins through my mind, and I refuse to take it any further because I know what it means.

If Dad dies, I will be king. Right then and there—Spencer and Duncan will make it so. Bo, Gunnar, and Lyra will agree, and I will become King Kalle of Laandia.

I’ve never known such fear.

I’m not ready. I’m not ready to lose him, so not ready to become king. I can’t even bring myself to answer Minka’s question on whether she can get me a cup of coffee.

She brings me one anyway, and I clutch it gratefully.

“Kalle?” I blink and Stella comes into focus, standing before me with a worried look on her face. “I called Edie. I know we’re supposed to keep it quiet, but it’s Edie, and I thought maybe you’d want her here. She’ll be here soon.”

Edie. Here. I nod, and keep nodding.

Stella drifts back to Gunnar.

Edie is coming. She’ll be here soon. She’s coming.

“Kalle?” Bo’s voice breaks into my spiral. “Bro, you’ve got to chill. You’re freaking us out. Lyra’s a mess, and you’re not helping.”

I look at the others, at the tight group whispering together. I thought they were talking about Dad, but it looks like it was me. “I don’t know what to do.” My voice is unrecognizable, hoarse and raspy like I’ve just had my tonsils removed.

“Nothing you can do.” Bo claps me on the shoulder. “He’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that. And if he’snot—”

“Don’t go there,” Bo tells me. “Not yet. He’ll be okay because that’s what I need to believe. We’ll figure it all out, whatever happens.”

“How?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he repeats. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Mom…” I manage.

“I know.” Bo leans forward in an awkward hug and grips the back of my head. “It’s not her. It’s not the same thing.”

My brother holds me for a long minute until he goes back to Lyra because our little sister starts to cry when she sees us like that.

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