Page 57 of The Prince and the Puck
That was past though. I needed to look forward. She’d lied to me, she’d betrayed me. She could have just told me what was going on, who she was. Now there was no chance of anything real between us. You didn’t build a relationship based on lies.
None of that stopped me from wondering where she was, though, what she was doing. Was she happy? Did her mother still make those delicious fry bakes she used to give us when we were small? If I closed my eyes, I could still taste the brown sugar and the crispy edges… perfection. It all reminded me of Eliza. And something inside me twisted into a tangled mess when I thought of her.
“Did you hear me, Deckkie?” My mother asked, looking at me meaningfully.
I shook my head, sending thoughts of Lizzy scattering. “Sorry, what?”
“I said you’ll have fittings this afternoon and all day tomorrow.”
“Fittings?” I didn’t do a good job hiding the horror in my voice. Nothing sounded worse than getting stuck with needles for two days in a row while standing around trying on clothes. “For what?”
“For your new wardrobe. Kings certainly cannot be seen wearing pink board shorts and T-shirts that say ‘pew pew,’” Mom said, wrinkling her nose at me.
Lambert was grinning across the table. “I like your shirt,” he whispered loudly enough for them to hear.
“Of course you do.” Dad rolled his eyes.
“I guess you can have it when they make me wear… What will I have to wear every day, then?” I tried to imagine Dad’s normal wardrobe. This morning he was wearing a robe and looking only slightly less tired than yesterday.
“Proper slacks and tailored shirts. Ties,” Mom said. “Cufflinks.”
“Ties?” I moaned. I hated ties. There was no worse invention. “Can I pass some kind of royal edict that no one ever has to wear ties again?”
“I think you’ll find, son, that there are far more important issues demanding your attention once you’re the sovereign head of our nation.” Dad did not seem amused.
“Of course, sir.” I struggled to sit up taller, feeling like every word from my family was another weight piled onto my shoulders, pressing me down. I hadn’t realized how good I had it. All I wanted was to be back in Wilcox, preparing for a game. Or even dropping trou for Lizzy’s calendar. It was all so much better than this.
We finished breakfast, and Lambert and I headed out for a walk on the beach. Naturally, we were closely tailed by five security guys in tailored short-sleeved shirts, an annoyance I supposed I’d need to get used to.
“So,” he said. “Settling in?”
“No.” I practically spat the word. “I don’t want any of this.”
He nodded. “It’s a lot.”
I stopped walking when my feet hit the water, and for a moment I let the cool, clear water pool around my ankles as thesea filled my vision from horizon to horizon on either side. “God, it’s gorgeous. You forget.”
“Do you?” Lambert asked wistfully.
“That was insensitive. I’m sorry.” He’d never been away from Murdan. He wouldn’t know if one forgot its beauty.
“A few years ago, I might have been jealous,” he said softly. “But now?” He shook his head.
“What do you mean?”
“I love it here, Deck. It took me years of fighting to realize that this is where I’m meant to be. This is what I’m meant to do.”
“Stand on the beach with your miserable little brother?”
He smiled at me, a calm benevolence I’d never seen from him emanating. He looked…regal. “Something like that.”
A thought occurred to me. “Lambert… do you want to be king?”
He hesitated, keeping his gaze trained on the horizon, the bright blue of the Caribbean Sea making every second feel like an eternity. “I do,” he said softly. “But I’ve accepted Dad’s decision. I’ve made a name for myself for all the wrong things. It’s too late now.”
I stared at him. This was the answer. Lambert wasn’t the same out of control kid he’d been. This version of Lambert, the one that was in love with a beautiful woman? The one who stood here telling me he had no ambitions to leave our tiny country? He should be king.
“What about Celeste?” I asked.
