Page 100 of Royal Fling
Starters were cleared and mains were served. Olive linguini with a cream feta sauce and spring onions. Another local food that Fisayo tended to make on lazy afternoons for all of us back in London.
Everyone engaged in conversation, but I kept busy with my pasta, taking small, slow bites and thinking about what Fisayo had said on our video call.
Was he ready? Did he still want me? Or was he ready to move on without me?
“August,” Baba said, and I turned to him, his face kind and calm.
“Yes, Baba,” I said.
“Are you okay?”
His black eyes, that almost everyone else in the family had inherited—barring Ginny and myself—glimmered. I didn’t know if I could lie to them.
“I don’t know,” I said.
He patted the back of my hand and looked around the table.
“Fisayo thinks he misses me. That he’s ready to talk, but… I’m not sure.”
He nodded.
“Then why are you still here?” he asked.
“Stefanos?” Mama said.
He glanced at her, then back to me.
“If there’s one chance in a million that he loves you, do you really want to miss it?” he asked.
“What?” I asked.
“I think if the last few months have taught us anything, it’s that we’re all… damned if we do, and damned if we don’t. I think it’s time we start following our hearts more than royal protocol. I’d hate for my children to be burdened with duty and not happiness,” he said.
I didn’t know what he was talking about. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. My father had never been so blasé about our duties. What the hell happened to him in the five years I’d been living away from home?
Or was this an effect of seeing his son blasted all over the internet about his affair that had softened him?
“Baba, are you serious?” Ginny asked.
He looked at her and frowned.
“Do you know me as a joker, Dorothea?”
Ginny shrieked beside me.
“I can’t believe this. Our dad has finally joined us in this century,” she said, only to get the side eye from both our parents.
Did I want to do this? Did I want to follow my heart?
Yes. Hells yes!
He was right. And so was Fisayo. It was better to know than live in doubt and misery the rest of my life.
“Okay. I… I’ll do it,” I said and jumped off my chair.
“One moment, August!” Mama raised her voice, and everyone turned to her. “We’ve still got dessert to get through. I’m sure your beau can wait another five minutes.”
She was right. There was no reason to skip dessert. I sat back down and saw her smirk from the edge of my vision.
