by K. S. Thomas
“Born the only daughter of Morton and Esther Deluca, Greer grew up well loved - the apple of her father’s eye.” I clear my throat, purposely excluding Esther from any further sentiments before I go on, “A shining light among her peers, it wasn’t long before Greer found herself on stage, thriving in theatrical performances and various artistic expressions. However, it wasn’t until adulthood, that she found her true passion, her soul’s calling. Children. Without any of her own, she’s made it her life’s work to care for the children of others. Her natural instinct to nurture may well be how fate finally nudged us toward each other for it was watching her engaged with Monroe that truly allowed me to see her for the first time. Without the veils of family ties shrouding my vision, I saw Greer. And I knew instantly, she was the mother my daughter so truly deserved, and the wife I’d been longing for.” I end my speech by sliding my hand down my side until it finds hers at the table. Unlike every time before, this time, I don’t twine my fingers with hers. Instead, I simply wrap them around her delicate hand and clasp it in mine. “Please welcome my future wife and your future queen to the Westergaard family.”
A murmur of welcomes follows which Greer graciously responds to. Then, we’re both saved by the trumpets and a final round of champagne.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GREER
Once the formal dinner comes to an official end, we move on to after dinner drinks. While Lachlan warned me there’d be more formalities to follow, he failed to mention we’d be separated for them. Best I can figure, it’s Linden’s nod to bachelor and bachelorette parties, which before now have not come up, and which this reminds of as we’re being ushered into separate rooms. Boys to the left and girls to the right.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t mind. I’m well-enough versed in Myrna’s games to play along, and Isobel’s company is hardly a chore. Half the time, I forget she’s even in the room, she’s so quiet. Lachlan’s grandmother has been the toughest nut to crack thus far. Truth be told, I was hoping to have my shot at her tonight. But that was before I showed up for dinner only to find my mother sitting at the table.
I scan the room. It feels a lot like standing in a field of landmines. I’m not sure which way I want to go or where to risk explosion. Isobel seems the obvious choice. Or she would if I didn’t know Myrna well enough to predict her next move would simply be to track me down and trap me and I don’t need two landmines standing that close to one another. Which then leads me to think my best approach is Myrna herself.
Ordinarily, this would satisfy her. But tonight is anything but ordinary. She brought my mother all this way for a reason. If I join Myrna, she will no doubt invite my mother as well. And then, I’m back at two.
Which leaves me with the former queen, the family matriarch and Lachlan’s grandmother. But, if I want to win her over, I need to save my efforts for a night I don’t have two loose cannons in the room.
This means of course, my choice is simple. The person I approach is the very one I wish would disappear. My mother.
“Kind of ironic, don’t you think?” I ask under my breath sidling up to her. “My whole life you couldn’t be bothered to travel three blocks to see me, but now that I’m three thousand miles away, suddenly you find the motivation.”
“Are you sure you want to have this conversation now?” she asks, her tone as low as mine, her smile about ten times as fake. “With present company as an audience?”
“Trust me,” I whisper, barely moving my lips as I speak, “The queen will see to it we have the privacy we need. After all, she brought you all this way for a reason. She won’t dare interrupt when things are going according to plan and she won’t interfere to get her hands dirty unless she deems it absolutely necessary.”
“Funny,” my mother simpers. “You don’t seem nearly as fond of your future mother-in-law as she sounded of you when she first called me.”
“To be honest, mothers in general don’t really do it for me.” I scrunch my nose and eyes and grimace at her in a way that can be interpreted as playful or disgusted depending on perspective.
Judging by the way she falls back a step, she took it as it was intended for her.
“Greer,” she starts over. Even though she’s still keeping her voice down, her tone has changed. She isn’t attempting to reason with me, she’s pleading. “I know I failed you growing up. Can’t you see that is precisely why I am here now?”
I almost laugh. Instead, I cover my mouth and mimic the same sort of polite little giggle I’ve watched Isobel enact countless times since I’ve been here. I daresay, it’s her signature move. “You can’t be serious. You really expect me to believe it was some latent maternal instinct that prompted you to board a plane and come all this way?”
“I realize this is hard for you to understand,” she tries again. “I’m not proud of the woman I was then.”
“Are you proud of the one you are now?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I don’t care. Except, I suppose I’m curious to hear the answer. And maybe, if I’m honest, I’m expecting her to give me more ammunition to pelt back at her.
She raises her chin even as she lowers her eyes. “Yes.” But her body language betrays her. I can still see the shame she carries. For a moment, I almost feel bad for her. Then I catch a glimpse of the queen watching us, a wicked smirk curling the corner of her thin mouth, and the moment passes.
“You should take what little pride you think you have to cling to and go back home,” I huff. “I promise, I will leave you with none if you’re still here by the time my father arrives.”
She looks surprised. “I was told your father wasn’t coming.”
He’s not. There’s no way I could ask him to close the shop and come all the way to Linden for my fake wedding. But I was hoping she didn’t know that. Regardless, I’ve already bluffed my way through this entire engagement, why stop now when it could actually serve me for a change? “My father is the one person I’ve been able to count on my entire life. He’s been there for every step, every first and every milestone. Do you honestly believe he would miss my wedding?”
She takes a moment to process what I’m saying before she pulls herself up a little taller again. Her face becomes more rigid as she starts to speak again. “What I came here to tell you won’t take me longer than one night.” She nods curtly. “Hear me out and I’ll be gone come morning.”
I have zero interest in hearing what she has to say, but what I lack in interest I make up for in motivation to see her disappear again, and so, I agree. “Speak your piece. I promise you have my undivided attention until you’re done.”
“Fine.” Her mouth no longer makes the effort to feign a smile. “I’ll cut right to the chase.” She lifts her chin ever so slightly as if it will somehow make her taller than me. “Don’t marry the prince.”
I almost laugh. “I’m sorry, is that what you came here to say? Or what the queen flew you here to say? Because that’s the message she’s been trying to get across to me since I arrived in Linden.”
“Our message may sound the same, but I can assure you we’re sharing it for two very different reasons.” If I wondered before how transparent the queen was with my mother, I don’t now.
“So, enlighten me. Why don’t you want me to get married?”
Her eyes scan the room as if to be sure no one has had any foolish thoughts recently about joining us. Then she leans in a little closer. “Because you have too much to offer the world to give it all to one person.”
“What would you know about what I have to offer?” I scoff. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re my daughter,” she huffs indignantly, as if those words are supposed to mean something. “I know your dreams are just as big as mine were. And I know you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t chase them with everything you’ve got.” She shakes her head, twisting her mouth as if the bitter taste of her own regrets is souring her tongue. “Marry this boy now, and you’ll lose everything you’ve b
een working so hard for. Marry him...and you disappear. You’ll never come back from it.”
“You’re wrong,” I insist, though even as I take up the argument, a voice in the back of my mind nags at me not to engage. I can’t help myself. I won’t let her think she’s right about this. “Lachlan supports my dreams. I can have both. I can be married and still follow my dreams.”
She laughs derisively and something about the sound is so cold, it jars me internally. “I thought that too. And maybe I could have if I’d stayed just a wife.”
“But you became a mother,” I conclude darkly. “And that’s what killed your dreams.” Now it’s my turn to laugh with callous disdain. “I guess that settles the argument then.”
“It does.” She nods. “Because you’re marrying a man with a child.”
My own laughter catches in my throat. I don’t have time to form another retort before she goes on, “A wife may have room to be selfish. A mother does not. And make no mistake, Greer, you marry a man with a baby, and you become a mother. What you won’t become, is an actress.” Her laughter has also vanished without a trace. “It’ll take a while before the reality catches up with you. In the beginning, you’ll think there’s still time. You’ll think you can let it go just long enough to be there while the baby needs you most. But eventually you realize a child never stops needing you. And the sort of dreams you and I were born with? They need you just as much. Only by the time you realize you’ll need to choose, the choice has already been made. The sacrifice is complete. And then,” her voice trails off for a second or two, “Then you meet with hatred. And anger. And a sense of betrayal you can never forgive. Not yourself. Not your child. And certainly not your husband.”
“So, you didn’t leave to pursue your dreams,” I conclude slowly. “You left because you hated us for taking them from you.”
“No.” She swallows several times in a row and it’s the first sign she’s shown of having any emotion. “I left because I hated myself for letting you. And because the person it turned me into didn’t have anything to offer you or your father anymore.” Her eyes cast toward the floor. “I didn’t have anything to offer anyone for a very long time.” She sighs heavily before slowly turning her eyes up to meet mine again. “I never want you to be as broken as I was, Greer. Don’t you see that? Don’t you see I had to come here, to save you from becoming me?”
A shooting pain travels from my jaw up to my temple and it serves to let me know I’ve been clenching my jaw too tightly for too long already. “The only thing I see is a lost woman making a pathetic attempt at redemption she doesn’t deserve to find,” I hiss. “You don’t want me to end up broken? Too late. I broke the day you walked out, and I’ve been in pieces ever since. Unlike you, I learned to carry my shattered bits around so well, no one can tell they’re not whole. Not even you.”
Then I turn and march straight for the queen. I’ve heard enough from my mother tonight. Anything her royal vindictiveness could possibly have in store for me next will pale in comparison.
LACHLAN
“YOU CHANGED YOUR SPEECH,” Soren says after we’ve been standing along the wall, isolated from the party with two untouched drinks in our hands for at least ten minutes.
“You told me to,” I remind him.
“I tell you to do all sorts of things.” He chuckles. “You never listen.”
I shrug. “You’re not usually right.”
Soren leans his head in toward me ever so slightly. “What part exactly was it I was right about?”
I clear my throat. “That it would be best to keep things simple.”
“Ah.” He nods, face smug with understanding. “I never said those words, but I’m assuming you’re referring to the part where I said you were in love with her. Got it. Yes, nothing simple about that.”
“Would you keep your voice down, please?” I hiss. “In case you forgot, given my impending wedding, it would be a lot less simple if I wasn’t in love with her.”
He squints, temporarily struggling to keep up. “Right.” He shakes his head. “You know, I think maybe we’ve moved past keeping anything about this simple.”
“Fine. Let’s just drop it and talk about something else,” I counter. I didn’t want to talk about this in the first place.
“Great. Let’s talk about the three Americans arriving in two days.”
I roll my eyes. “You can call Chase by his name, you know. You’ve spent plenty of time with him over the years to identify him more specifically than just an American. And why are there only three? I thought Chase said he was bringing a plus one?”
“Fine. Chase and two Americans,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “are set to arrive in Linden by ten twenty on said morning. As per your request, they’re flying first class on the only overnight flights I could find on such short notice, allowing them plenty of rest and a full day to start the fun of pre-wedding festivities upon their arrival. The plus one in question is set to arrive the following day due to a scheduling conflict, Chase’s doing, not mine.” The way he rattles this information off almost makes it sound like a speech he rehearsed. He didn’t, of course, but this sort of information exchange between us is so common, it’s hard not to make it sound like he’s said the same words a hundred times over. Because in some form, he has.
“Great.” I nod to show my appreciation for his efforts. “How did we do on the accommodations? Did you run into any obstacles compliments of the queen?”
He smirks. “I mean, I’m sure she thought they were obstacles, but,” he stops briefly, letting his gaze shift sideways implying sneaky actions were taken, “I’d like to think I used them to our advantage.”
“How?” I’m not doubting him. Soren is nothing if not crafty. I’m just curious for entertainment’s sake. Truthfully, I could do with the distraction. So far, nothing has managed to take away the lingering thoughts of Greer floating at the forefront of my mind. Right now, I’d welcome just about any topic of conversation capable of snuffing them out.
“Well, I was told all the available quarters in the East Wing were either blocked off for tours – which are overbooked with a wedding in the works, or far too shabby and in need of updating before they can be deemed appropriate for any guest of the court, which of course, no one has time for.” He turns out to the side a bit to get a better view of the room and anyone who might try to join our conversation before he goes one, “Bea let slip the queen of villainous affairs ordered three suites to be cleaned for company.” His eyes dart left and right and I’m starting to think he’s more concerned with building the suspense than any curious bystanders trying to overhear us. Not that there are many of those here. It’s just my father and brother celebrating with us and they’re engulfed in a game of chess across the room. There are a handful of servants passing through every so often to wait on our every whim, but even those haven’t come near us since before we started this chat.
“Are you going to get to the point of this story?” I ask when his intentional pause drags on.
“Yes,” he says, “and you’ll appreciate it when I do.”
“Because you’ll finally stop talking?”
“Because it’s a good one.” He wiggles his brows at me, unbothered by my dig at his endless rambling. “Suite number one,” he starts a countdown using his fingers, “the Elm Room on the second floor of the corps de logis for Chase.”
“That’s the room directly above my grandmother’s. No one stays in the Elm Room. Ever.” My grandmother can’t stand to hear footsteps on the ceiling, but she refuses to leave her quarters on the piano nobile, which is historically known to hold the finest rooms in the castle, and thus is the only level fit for her former majesty. As arguing with her is a senseless task, it was easier to just retire the space above hers. Until now, it seems.
“Yes. This was, I believe, your step-ghoul’s first mistake.” He holds up finger number two. “The second suite she requested for your female American friend was the underwater room.” Called that
due to a pipe breakage and massive water leak that spread through the entire ceiling and left the room, quite literally, under water. Prior to that, it was referred to as the West End, as it’s the very last room at the very end of the West Wing. “Let me get this straight, the East Wing rooms are too outdated for company, but mold and mildew lining the walls isn’t a problem?”
“Yes, I like to call this, mistake number two.” He grins. “Lastly, we have her third choice.” His ring finger pops up to join the other two already erect. “The Elite.”
Linden’s finest hotel. But still. “That’s not even on property! You’re telling me, we don’t have a single room to spare here that Abbas can stay in?”
“I’m telling you we didn’t have a single room to spare that would create varying degrees of discomfort for the inhabitant while simultaneously aiding in keeping all of you separated from each other as much as possible,” he says flatly. “But the queen of wicked wishes overplayed her hand this time.” He grins again. “As soon as I heard she intended for Chase to stay in the Elm Room, I paid your grandmother a visit to formally apologize for the inconvenience this would cause her. She, in turn, promptly declared it was out of the question, and absolutely no one was to so much as tiptoe into that room. Then she went on to say that Chase was your brother and your problem and therefore, should stay with you.”
Slowly, my mouth begins to stretch into a smile as well. “Smooth.”
“Oh, but I’m just getting started.” He chuckles. “Next, I went to your father to ask his permission to convert the study across from the Underwater Room into a sort of tearoom for the bride and her maid of honor to convene in when they were on that side of the castle. You should have seen your father’s face. I think it took him a good three minutes to fully put together the fact his wife intended for another human being to sleep in that suite.” He laughs quietly. “Anyway, he quickly surrendered to the reality that he has no clue what’s going on in this place and thus couldn’t possibly offer another room to the cause, which left me to helplessly offer the only suggestion I had available to me, suggest Mallory stay in the Ivory Suite with Greer.” He nods, satisfied with his own achievements in meddling and manipulation. “Naturally, he was thrilled with the idea and told me to make it happen. Which I did. Someone will be by to turn the corner nook of windows which isn’t being used for anything but light and view enjoyment into a second sleeping area.”