Page 97 of A Storm in Every Heart
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
She presses her lips together in a flat line, and I can’t tell if she’s disappointed in my diplomatic response, or simply saddened by the memory of her father. “It’s alright, it was all a very long time ago.” She shakes her head and gives me a brittle smile. “That’s enough about me, though.”
“I’m not sure it could ever be enough,” I blurt out. “I enjoy listening to you talk about yourself.”
The side of her face turns pink, and she ducks her head, letting her hair fall in a curtain between us. “You’re very blunt, you know. I’ve never met anyone who just said how they feel so clearly.” She frowns, like she’s thinking. “Maybe it’s because you’re a prince. You’ve never really had to hide your feelings or opinions from anyone.”
I bark a startled laugh. “That’s not true at all.”
“It isn’t?” She sounds skeptical. “So you’re telling me that the average courtier would correct you if you said something rude?”
“Well, no,” I admit. “But you’re giving me way too much credit. I absolutely can’t just go around saying whatever I want. I rarely talk to courtiers at all.”
She turns sideways, leaning against the side of the ship to look at me. “Really? Why?”
“Because I’m an arrogant asshole, obviously.”
She smiles. “Maybe a little, but not nearly as bad as I expected.”
I snort. “That’s a ringing endorsement coming from you. I might faint from so much praise.”
Her smile widens. “I have very discerning taste. But really, why don’t you talk to anyone?”
“Because I have nothing to say. I’ve never been good at polite small talk, and it’s not as if I can be completely open with any of them about real topics.”
Her eyes flash with interest. “Tell me, then. What's something you can’t talk about with courtiers?”
My stomach churns. “I can’t say that I’m here tonight instead of safely in the palace.”
She frowns. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Tell me something real.”
My gaze meets hers, and this time I know for certain that she’s testing me, I just don’t know how to pass. She wants to hear something real—something unrestrained—but I’ve been trained my entire life never to lose control like that. I’m not even sure I know how.
“I don’t want to be king,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Who would want to rule an entire kingdom? That sounds awful.”
“No, really.” I widen my eyes, hoping to make her understand. “I don’t. I never have.”
Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t think that was the kind of thing you had much of a choice about.”
“I don’t. My parents spent years trying for a son because Hydratta probably wouldn’t accept any of my sisters on the throne.”
“That’s stupid,” she says bitterly. “There are other kingdoms that are ruled by queens. The throne of Thermia has passed from mother to daughter for generations.”
“I know, believe me. If Serena wanted to be queen, and the kingdom would accept her, I’d be more than happy to step aside, but that’s just not how things work here.”
“Why don’t you want to be king?” she asks, seemingly taking me more seriously.
I suck in a breath, falling silent as I think.
This isn’t the kind of thing I’ve ever told anyone. My family doesn’t talk about our feelings, I’ve never had a tutor or advisor that I was especially close to, and all my friendships have always felt slightly hollow. Like, if I weren’t a prince, I’m not sure they would look twice at me.
Subsequently, there’s never been anyone I could tell that I’ve felt this way for a long time, and I’m not sure how to explain it now.
“I don’t think I would be good at it,” I say finally.
“Most royals aren’t very good at ruling,” Odessa says. “No offense.”
