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Fitz held the door for him, Kabir clearly waiting on the other side. As Bishop exited, my bodyguard’s eyes widened with disbelief. Clearly, he didn’t approve of his charge being alone with the prince’s wildcard of a cousin.
Visibly shaken by something, Fitz waited until I met his stare to speak. “I’ll reach out. We’ll talk. Later?”
I nodded, eager to clear the air with him. Though we’d mended some of our relationship, I hated the tension that continued to weasel its way in. Too many words were being left unspoken. And something had happened with Sadie.
Something he wasn’t eager to share with me.
Maybe it was too late.
Maybe I’d already lost him.
Fitz
Every step toward my parents’ chambers drove my anxiety higher. I didn’t have a plan. At least, not a fully formed one. I only knew that what Sadie had described so closely resembled the future I hoped to have for my kingdom, that I was willing to seek it out at any cost. Even if that cost was irrationally upsetting my mother.
Bishop stayed close, uncharacteristically quiet. I never knew if he was going to be on my side or if, at the last moment, he would stab me in the back in order to get what he wanted. But Mother was fond of him and if his presence would tip the scales in my direction, then it was worth the risk.
Anastacia, Mother’s lady’s maid, spotted me before I made it over the threshold and stepped forward to stop me.
“Begging pardon, Your Highness.” She dropped her head forward but quickly rose again, eager to deliver her message. “The king has fallen ill. He’s not taking visitors today.”
My heart clenched. Every time this happened, I was left wondering if this was it. I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with him. In reality, I was stuck in denial, unwilling to face the fact that in a matter of weeks, he could be gone.
I shoved those worries aside for the sake of the country. “I’m actually looking for Her Majesty.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” She cast a quick glance at Bishop, who had the audacity to grin like we were meeting in a pub, not at my father’s possible death bed. As Anastacia hurried to deliver my message, I elbowed Bishop.
“Have a little decorum, yes?”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he assured me. “She’s rather fetching.”
The doors to my parents’ bedroom opened. With the storm still raging outside, only pale light filtered in to illuminate the immediate space. Father lay in bed, pale and ghostly. The Craboon Blackwing sat on a perch near him, and yet he hadn’t recovered. I inhaled slowly, feeling the depths of my grief as it approached, a robber in the night, ready to strike at the worst possible moment.
With a few words, Anastacia delivered my message. Mother glanced toward the open doors, locked eyes with me, and rose. Her black skirts rushed behind her as she moved, not showing the slightest weakness despite her advancing years. As she crossed the threshold, Anastacia pulled the doors shut behind her, cutting off my view of my father.
I didn’t wait for her to ask. All thoughts of the ball were quickly abandoned in light of Father’s downturn.
“How is he?”
With her arm, she guided us away from the bedroom doors into my father’s study, walls lined with dark wood and old books. “He’s tired. He was feeling strong this morning, but it faded quickly as the afternoon arrived. The doctors still don’t know what to do. The bird hasn’t done anything to help him, and I fear my faith is failing me.” Her palm pressed against her forehead as though she had to hold her mind together. Fully exasperated, she asked, “What do you need, Leonidas?”
This was a fool’s errand. Compared to what they were facing, a ball was the least important concern for the country. I’d made a mistake, and the best possible course of action was to abandon it immediately. I started to open my mouth to apologize, but Sadie’s face drifted into my mind. Sweet and innocent, void of guile and eager to mend the matters of the kingdom. I had a chance to set us on a better path. Wasn’t it my duty to do so even if it meant upsetting the natural course of things?
“I’d like to start taking on more of my duties.” Every time I stood in her presence, I felt like a child. I squared my shoulders, determined to be the man I knew I was.
“Is that so?” Slightly dubious, she glanced at Bishop. “And I suppose you are here to lend a hand?”
“Help or hinder, it’s all undecided at this point.” Bishop shrugged. “I prefer to keep my options open.”
I didn’t have the energy for him to derail me this early. “The Christmas Eve Ball, Mother, I have ideas.”
“For next year…” Her eyebrows rose as if to tell me that was the only appropriate answer. “This year is planned. It’s too close to—“
“I’m meant to become king, yes?” The fire of my future kindled in my bones. If she thought she would rule through me, she was mistaken. I had no plans to be her puppet on the throne. “And you’re worried I’m not up to the task, so this would be a worthy opportunity to showcase that I am.”
She laughed lightly, but each shake of her shoulders weighed with frustration. “What changes?” She spoke to me as if I were a child. “The food? The dancing?”
I shot a glance at Bishop, hoping for some sense of encouragement, but he merely shrugged as if I was on my own.
