Page 39 of Royal Bargain
“You too,” I murmur. “You’re allowed to want more than just surviving your father’s world.”
She nods, slow and solemn.
And for a heartbeat, we just stay there. Two people with messy, tangled brains and bruised hearts, trying to figure out how to build something that isn’t just survival.
A soft cry breaks through the quiet, high-pitched and insistent.
I rise from the couch, moving without thinking. “I’ve got her,” I say, already walking toward the bassinet.
She’s kicking her little legs, arms flailing like she’s trying to fight off imaginary ninjas. I scoop her up carefully, settling her against my chest. She’s so small, but she makes a hell of a lot of noise for someone so tiny.
“Hey, now,” I ask, swaying with her. “What are you mad about,a stór? Did we wake you up from your very important dream? Were you flying a spaceship with Uncle Lucky again?”
Her cries taper off into little hiccups, and I start pacing a worn path across the room. The floor creaks in all the familiar spots, but the rhythm settles her. It always does.
Behind me, I hear the soft rustle of Annika getting up from the couch. “You’re really good with her,” she says.
I glance back. She’s watching me like I’m something she can’t quite believe is real.
“She likes the stories,” I say, giving Lily a bounce. “Especially the one where Alannah convinced me to break into a school theater to steal a prop crown. She falls asleep right around the part where I get arrested.”
Annika lets out a quiet laugh, and something eases in my chest at the sound.
“You’re more than just comic relief, you know.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“I mean it.” She comes closer, her voice steady, her eyes full of something that feels too big to name. “You’re more than the muscle. More than backup. You’re patient, and kind, and gentle with her. With me. You’re not just good at this, Liam. You’re good.”
My throat tightens around the words I don’t know how to say.
I look down at Lily, who’s slowly blinking up at me, her tiny fingers fisting in the fabric of my shirt.
“You really think so?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Iknowso.”
Her words stick with me—cling to something deep in my chest like they’re trying to root there.
I look away, rocking Lily gently as she starts drifting back to sleep, her little body heavy and warm against mine. “I took the job with Burns,” I say after a beat, “because I wanted people to see me differently. Not just the guy you send when something needs to get broken.”
Annika doesn’t say anything, just watches me like she’s waiting for more.
“I thought if I did this—ran the campaign, handled the logistics, made it a success—people would finally stop looking at me like the screw-up brother.” I shrug, shifting Lily slightly.“But it’s been hard. The schedule’s a mess, I keep missing things, forgetting follow-ups, losing track of stuff. My brain’s not built for tight timelines and moving pieces. I get overwhelmed, freeze up, or hyperfocus on the wrong thing. I’m trying, but…”
I trail off, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. I hate admitting this. Hate saying I’m not good at something that matters.
Annika steps in closer, her voice low but sure. “Then let me help.”
I blink, surprised. “You’ve got enough on your plate?—”
She cuts me off with a gentle look. “Liam. I love organizing. Schedules, lists, sorting chaos into something manageable? That’s my thing. I’ve had to rely on routines and systems my whole life to function—what if I could build something that works for you too?”
Her words hit me like a balm. Not pity. Not annoyance. Just… support. From someone who gets it.
“You’d really want to do that?”
Annika nods. “We can try different systems. Color codes, checklists, maybe a shared calendar or a whiteboard. Whatever makes it easier for you to stay on top of everything without burning out.”
