Page 98 of Fit for a King

NOAH

HOME DIDN’T FEEL the way I remembered.

It hadn’t physically changed in the short weeks I’d been away, but the last time I was there I’d been full of hope and love. That view colored everything, made the world seemed brighter, even made food taste different. Better.

So to be back now, one bag to my name and my chest so hollow I was sure I’d left it back at Montclair Palace, made me feel like the worst kind of failure to my parents. They’d depended on me, and I’d let them down. All because I’d fallen in love with the king.

I could still see him in the window of the throne room, watching me leave and not doing a thing to stop it. Had I wanted him to ask me to stay? Of course, but not in a way that felt like a command. It was better that he dismissed me, because there was no way I could stay at the palace and watch him move on while my heart bled for him.

Knowing I’d made the right choice didn’t do anything to lessen the grief, though. The first week back I tried to sleep away the pain, spending far too many hours on the pull-out couch in the sunroom that had been mine all those years ago. Mostly I just lay there staring up at the ceiling, listening to the storms raging outside and wondering if Nicholas was doing the same. Was he sleeping? Was he eating enough? Or had he gone back to skipping breakfast and drowning in multiple cups of tea without me to fight him over it?

I hated that I worried, and I hated even more that I cared too much to stop.

How could I when he was still performing acts of kindness that told me he cared? A few days before I’d arrived home, so had a brand-new wheelchair for my dad. It was perfect, fully electronic, with plush cushions, large enough to be comfortable while still fitting easily in every room of the cottage. Not only that, it came with a letter from some royal foundation that wanted to provide a specialist for him—free of charge.

I’d never seen my dad cry before, but he got damn close to it when he told me about it, his lips a tight, thin line like he was trying hard not to show too much emotion. Mum could never hide her feelings, though, and she let out the tears he hadn’t. It was an act of kindness that I truly hadn’t expected, even though Nicholas had mentioned wanting to do it. They’d assumed the promise was just the words of a king who’d forgotten he’d said them, but that wasn’t who Nicholas was. He’d noticed my father suffering, filed it away, and done something about it without ever asking for thanks.

That was the problem with trying to forget him. It was impossible when every corner here reminded me of him now too.

“Noah,” Dad called out from where he sat in his new chair in the sunroom. “You received a letter this morning.”

I’d just gotten back from the market to pick up a few things for Mum, and I dropped them off for her in the kitchen before making my way into the sunroom. Unlike me, Dad was looking better than he had when I’d left for Montclair Palace, and I had no doubt the combination of the chair and the specialist’s working with him several times a week was helping.

He held up the letter in his lap and smiled. “From Sutherland House.”

“Good news, I take it?”

“They’ve offered you the position.”

I felt my shoulders relax and let out a long exhale. After what happened at Montclair, I wasn’t sure if news had spread or if anyone would want to hire me. Who left the king’s employment unless they were forced out?

This was a win, and I’d take it. My family needed it—hell, I needed it for my sanity. Staying busy at a new job, somewhere far from Nicholas, would hurt, but I needed the space if I was ever going to get over him.

Dad handed me the letter and I sat down on the edge of the old, worn chair beside him and looked it over. It was a footman position for a well-off family—not part of the monarchy, but that was probably for the best.

“How far?” he asked.

“About three hours east. Not too bad.” I looked back down, scanning until I saw the expected arrival date, which was simply as soon as possible. “Looks like they need someone fast. I should leave tomorrow.”

Dad nodded. “Your mum will hate to see you leave so soon.”

I heard the unspoken words, that he hated it too, but he’d lived this job and knew the sacrifices more than anyone.

“I won’t let three years pass by without visiting again this time,” I said.

“You’d better not.”

THAT NIGHT I lay in bed and listened to the crash of waves on the rocky cliffs, the sound doing nothing to silence the thoughts that always plagued me whenever I was left alone.

Nicholas telling me he loved me. That I was beautiful. That he was mine and I was his. Words that I clung to but also despised, as they did nothing to help me move forward.

And that was what I needed right now, to move forward. To carry on with my life and create a new future for myself, one that could provide for my family and allow me to keep what little dignity I still had intact.

But sleep was not my friend. It eluded me tonight just as it had the last few weeks, and by the time the morning came around, my eyes felt gritty and tired.

Not a great way to start this new leg of my journey, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and if I waited around until I got a good night’s sleep before I left, I’d never end up going.

No, it was best to head out as soon as Mum and Dad woke. But it was quiet right now in the cottage, the soft, steady sounds of breathing the only thing I could hear besides the sea as I headed to the side door and carefully opened it.