Page 92 of Royal Rising

“Give me a couple of days to sort things out with Dad’s responsibilities,” he says now. “And then I’m going to start showing you that I mean what I say.”

My smile grows wider. “Okay,” I whisper.

Kalle shifts again, and then there’s a finger tracing my lips. “You’re smiling, aren’t you?” he asks in a low voice. “You’re smiling at the thought of all this. Of me.”

“Maybe,” I hedge.

I can tell by his voice that Kalle is smiling too. “I’m still not kissing you tonight,” he tells me.

“What?”

“Dad was just in the hospital. It’s definitely not the right time.”

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for,” I huff and flip over so my back is toward him.

“You don’t have to wait,” he says, the suggestion heavy in his voice. “Just because I’m showing my romantic side by waiting until the perfect moment—”

“You’re showing some kind of side,” I mutter. “And no, I’m not kissing you.”

“Suit yourself.” Kalle chuckles and then I feel his arm drape over my hip. “Just know I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better.”

He laughs.

32

Kalle

I’m surprised I fallasleep.

I’m not surprised I have the dream.

This time I’m back in Edie’s father’s truck. She’s with me, and so is Dad, bleeding on the bench seat between us. Edie has her hands pressed against his stomach and there’s so much blood.

Faster, faster, she says. And then suddenly it’s,watch out, watch out. It’s not the turtle on the side of the road, but a car.

Mom’s car.

Mom’s car is on the side of the road and I’m barreling toward it. I see Lyra in the backseat window, screaming and just before I hit—

I wake up.

I wake up gasping and shaking and also sweating, even though the blankets have been pushed down.

I sit up. Edie sleeps beside me, curled up with her hands under her chin, and just seeing her soothes me.

Or at least seeing her there tells me it was only a dream.

I slide out of bed and head to the window. The rain has finally stopped in the night and clouds scud across the sky, an inky blue.

My room looks over the ocean and the fierce waves of the last few days seem to have abated, although I can still see the whitecaps. I open the window carefully—sixteenth-century castles don’t have great windows—and the sound of the wind and the waves seeps in the room.

“Kalle?”

“Sorry.” I push down the window, but it screeches loudly. “Sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” A creak of the bed, and Edie is beside me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

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