Too much. This was too much. My head felt like exploding. I’d gone from being sure that I was never going to see Matthias again to hearing him not only confess his love for me, but his desire to spend his life making my dreams come true. The whole thing was just making me dizzy.
He squeezed my hand. "I can see that you're completely freaking out, so I'll give you some space while you think about it."
I blinked. "Am I that obvious?"
His grin was more cheeky than comforting. "You always freak out whenever there's a big change in your life. I think it's better that I give you some space now so you don't have to ask for it down the line. You know, by disappearing again."
Despite the slight tease, I was secretly pleased at how well he already knew and understood me. "Thank you, Matthias."
He rose from the gazebo. "I'll come back tomorrow to talk to you. If that's too early, turn on your phone and text me to tell me to wait."
With that, he turned and faded away into the night, leaving me alone with the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions crashing and swirling within my head.
36
Ally
"He seemed nice," Mom said when I came inside. "Should I go run him over with the truck?"
I laughed quietly and sat down next to her. "No need. I suspect he'll do it himself if I ask."
My dad had since gone back to the computer with Amy, but he called out to me from the office. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The house wasn't very large. A second later, he filled the doorway, Amy still snuggled up against his side.
"Do you have to bring that chicken with you everywhere, Brent?" Mom asked.
Dad grinned mischievously. "She likes the view." He directed his gaze at me. "So what were you saying about Matthias and a truck?"
I sighed. I had a lot of explaining to do. After bringing my parents up to speed on everything Matthias—including his royal heritage and my pregnancy—they stared at me in shock.
“You’re having a baby?” Mom asked.
“And with a prince,” dad added.
They’d always been laid back, but I expected a bigger reaction, even from them. I blamed the weed.
"It’s a lot to take in, I know."
Dad had taken a seat halfway through the conversation. Amy was brooding happily on his lap under the table.
"If I'd known we would be entertaining royalty, I would have made some snacks," my mom smiled.
“I think drugging a foreign prince would probably break some sort of international treaty,” I quipped.
She rolled her eyes and ignored me, but dad laughed.
"So let me see if I’m following this all," Mom jumped in. "Your boyfriend who got you pregnant turned out to be a secret prince, and you ran from him after finding that out?"
"In a nutshell."
"Interesting," she nodded, scratching absently at her chin. "And now he’s found you and thrown himself at your feet, all but offering to make you queen?"
"Yeah, sort of. I mean, he hasn’t actually proposed or anything but… I guess if he did, I’d be crazy not to jump at it, right? "
My mom shook her head. "Oh, not at all. I don't think just being rich and famous is a reason to love a person. Your father and I have been very happy without a crown. "
"I don't love him because he's rich and famous," I said. "I love him because he's funny and smart, and always wants to know how I am and to do whatever he can to make me happy. He makes me smile just by being around. It has nothing to do with him being a prince."
Mom and Dad both smiled.
"Then it's settled," Dad said. "You want to be with him."
I realized that despite my warring thoughts and emotions, what I’d never questioned was the idea that I wanted to be with him. Every time I ran from him, I always missed him. This time had been no exception.
"Yeah, I do." A grin began to creep onto my lips. "I want to be with Matt. But… it’s not even that simple. Do we stay here and live as normal people, or move to Caspierre to rejoin his royal family? It’s a huge decision and what if I choose the wrong one? "
"There's no wrong choice with love, jellybean," Dad said. He gave Amy a pat and she clucked with pleasure. "But I will say that I know you want to do great things in the world, and being in a position of power would certainly allow that."
Mom nodded thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that. Although I imagine that life would also come with a heavy burden of responsibility."
"Good point, Delilah." My dad beamed a look of pure love at her from across the table before turning back to me. "There are definitely positives and negatives to both sides, but I don't think you would regret either."
But that didn't help me decide now.
"Won't you guys miss me if I go?" I asked. "What about my friends?"
"Of course we would miss you," Dad said. "But we could always come for a visit, couldn’t we? Still, this isn't about us. It's about you, and the shape you want your future to take."
What shape did I want my future to take? I wanted to help people. Matt had promised he would help me do that here, if I wanted, but as king and queen of his country, there was probably a lot more opportunity to do good in much greater ways. But the thought of being an actual queen was terrifying, in a way. That was something that would definitely take some getting used to.
And although he left the choice to me, I felt that Matthias would be happier at home. He was no stripper, and he never carried himself as one. He might enjoy a quiet life here, and he probably would never have to get a real job, but wouldn’t that eventually bore him? He originally ran from home for very specific reasons and even though he didn’t really care if he became king or not, I had a feeling he would make a wonderful one.
After all, I always believed that it was only the ones most anxious for power that should be kept from it. Someone like Matthias, who had a kind heart and gentle soul would be ideal in the role. It may have been my dream to make a positive change in the world, but I had a feeling it was a goal we both shared.
"I'm going to go sleep on it," I said.
Both my parents nodded understandingly, but there was still some worry behind their eyes.
"Whatever you decide, just know that we'll be happy for you." Mom rose and hugged me.
Dad stood too, placing Amy down on the table before pulling me into his own embrace.
I missed seeing these two. If I did decide to leave, whether it was just back to California or all the way to Caspierre, I vowed to make sure I saw them more often than I had in the last few years.
I left home when I was eighteen, but my childhood bedroom hadn't changed much in the intervening years. My parents didn't have many belongings, so they hadn't needed the space. I think they also didn't want to disturb the room and the memories it held.
I was glad.
I noticed that there was one small addition, though. One that hadn't been there last night. My mom had come in sometime during the day and made up my bed for me, spreading Mrs. Brooks' quilt out over top.
I fell asleep with a smile on my face, thinking about how, despite my joking about it, I was proud of the fact that they were helping to ease the aches and pains of an old woman, simply out of the goodness of their heart.
37
Matthias
I hadn't spoken to my brothers in weeks—even longer for Arris, than Juris. Of the three of us, Juris and I were closest, but even we rarely felt the need to talk. We'd always butted heads. He would have never chosen the same kind of life of anonymity, nor would he ever consider giving up the throne—if it had been his to give up.
Of course, if I didn't take it, it would be. Which meant I had a responsibility to determine whether or not that was going to be a disaster or not. My mother hadn’t instilled a lot of confidence in me, the last time we spoke of him.
So that night, once the time difference was ideal, I called him.
"Hello, brother," he answered. "It has been some time. How are you?"
Ah, Juris. Al
ways so fucking formal.
"Well, let’s see… our father is dying, and I'm currently trying to convince the love of my life not to continue disappearing from my life. How about you?"
"Things have been busy. The lawyers have been taking me through the succession documentation, and it is such a bore. Still, I'm confident that a recovery is possible for father," he replied. I wasn’t sure if he was being completely honest or not. It was hard to tell over the telephone.
Since I hadn’t yet committed to returning, the lawyers had been preparing both of us for succession so as to prepare for all scenarios.
"And how are you feeling?" I asked. "About the idea of becoming king?"
"Well, nothing's set in stone yet, is it? Why? How do you feel about it?"
"You didn't answer my question."
He chuckled. "And now you have failed to answer mine."
Ah Juris, never a straight answer. In that way, he would always be more suited to politics than I.
“I’ve been prepared to rule my entire life, but for you the idea is new.”
“If it comes to it, I have no doubt I can take power.”
Take power. It may have been a simple word choice, but maybe not. My brother always seemed… overly ambitious. I had my fears about what that would mean if he became king. I’d hoped that he would soften over time, but then, I’d expected that time to last longer than just a year.
"Of that I have no doubts either, brother.”
There was silence on his end. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get what I needed out of this conversation.
I sighed. "Are you at the palace? Are Mother and Father around?"
"Yes. I'll take you to them."
He said nothing else, and I knew he would be happy to walk the phone to them in silence and hand me over without further ado. But I wasn't quite done with him yet.
"Juris, you know that I'll always be here for you," I said. "If you do end up on the throne, you can always call on me for help."
“I’m sure I will manage,” he snapped, but then he paused for a moment and added, slightly more stiffly, “But thank you, brother. I know I can count on your counsel. It goes without saying.”
"I felt like it needed saying."
He sighed, and then a second later said, "Here's Mother."
"Hello, darling. How are you?" My mother asked. "We miss you terribly."
"I know. I miss you too. Are you with Father?"
"Yes, I am. I'll put you on speaker."
A moment later, my father's voice came through the phone. He sounded weaker than he had the last time I talked to him. "Hello, son. Are you well?"
"I'm fine. How are you feeling?"
The old man's laugh was more like a wheeze than anything else. "The doctors have placed all these silly demands on me. They say I'm to give up port. Can you believe the barbarity?"
"Now, now, Mareks," Mom interrupted. "It's all for your health."
"If I can't have any bloody port than I don't want my health."
I smiled. At least he was still well enough to argue. That was promising, if nothing else.
"I actually called with some news," I interrupted.
There arguing ended into abrupt silence.
Here goes nothing.
"I think I’ve mentioned on one of our past calls that I had been seeing an American girl. Well, things have gotten… serious. I’m in love with her.”
I heard my mother gasp at the other end of the line. My father was silent.
“That’s wonderful, dear. When can we meet her?”
“There’s a bit more,” I added. Silence again.
“She’s also pregnant with my child.”
This time I think they both let out a little sound.
"Oooh, our first grandchild, Mareks," Mom cooed. "How exciting! We absolutely have to meet this woman. As soon as possible."
I wasn’t sure whether or not she said that because of the fact that if we waited much longer, Father may not live to meet her at all, but the fear was definitely in the back of my mind. Still, I avoided addressing the idea of when we would be back, since I still wasn’t sure what Ally was going to decide to do. Even telling them about her might end up being premature, if she decided that she still wanted nothing to do with me.
"This is wonderful news," Father agreed, finally. "I always knew that you would come into your own eventually."
"I'm glad that you're not disappointed," I admitted. "I was worried about telling you. I know she’s not from Caspierre, and we aren’t married…"
"Disappointed? Son, we could never be disappointed in you," my father declared. There was a softness in his voice that I wasn’t used to hearing, but it could have just been his illness. "I know you had your fears about royal responsibility, and the pressures we put on you… and I know that’s why you left. But nothing pleases me more than to hear that you have found happiness and family. Nothing is more important than that. It doesn’t matter where she’s from or what order things happen in. As long as you are happy."
“Really?”
Was my father really approving of the fact that I’d left home and found love in another country, without any promises that I would return? I was still waiting for him to demand that I return home at once to assume the throne now that the bloodline was secured.
“Really,” Father repeated. “I know it’s hard to believe, given our past behavior, but your mother and I recognize the mistakes we made. We accept the part we played in your decision to leave Caspierre, or of your reluctance to return.” He let out a deep, wheezy breath. “Would we prefer that you come home instead of staying in America? Of course. But we will no longer pressure you to make the choices that are best for us. We have seen how badly even our best intentions can backfire if applied by force. You have your own destiny to fulfill, and we will accept whatever it is you choose to do. Either way, we are happy if you are happy.”
This was an interesting development. I’d never expected my parents to admit to any part of why I left, never mind tell me that I was free to make my own choices—especially if one of those choices meant giving up the throne and never returning. Apparently, I’d misjudged them. Maybe I wasn’t the only one that had grown and changed over the last year.
Or perhaps I’d always misunderstood them? I never really doubted that they had my best intentions at heart, but I always resented being pushed into decisions that I wasn’t ready for or interested in. I imagined that everything they did had an ulterior motive, but maybe I hadn’t factored in that behind it all, they were still just people.
The throne was not my father.
All of a sudden, I missed them more than ever.
I would be happy with whatever Ally chose, so long as I got to be with her. I’d meant that when I said it. But suddenly the idea of going home didn’t sound so bad. I could spend time with my parents and get to know them. Properly. And, when the time came, I could carry on my family’s legacy.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be king, but it never meant so much to me that I was willing to give up myself just for a chance to sit on the throne. But it was never the throne itself that I was running from—it was just the pressure and obligations that I wasn’t ready for.
Maybe if I had just talked to my parents instead of running away, things might have turned out differently. Maybe I would have never come to America at all.
But then I would have never met Ally. And I would do anything for her. Which meant that I was still willing to give everything else up.
“Your support means a lot to me.” I wished there were better words to describe how I was feeling, but those were all I could conjure in the moment. “I miss you.”
"We miss you too," Mother replied. "Now tell us more about this girl."
Ally was a hard woman to sum up, so the explanation I went into was long. I told them all about how we'd met, though I glazed over the wild sex we had in her friend's spare bedroom or that the party we were at was one where I was the main source of entertainmen
t. I mentioned how disinterested she was in me, and how I had to work hard to woo her. My mother found that particularly amusing, as she'd never seen any of her boys struggle with women.
By the end of it, I was more convinced than ever that I needed Ally in my life. Permanently.
"She sounds wonderful," Mother commented.
"We're proud of you." My father's voice wheezed again. I could tell he was trying hard not to cough.
"Thanks."
I didn't know what else to say. I wanted to assure them that I would see them soon, but in truth I didn't know.
"Whatever you do, make sure you do it for you," Mother said to fill the silence. "And call us more often. You've been frightfully neglectful during your stay in the United States."
Her tone was stern but I could hear the humor behind the words. We spoke over skype very regularly. Still, I promised her I would, and then we ended the call.
Despite my guilt, nothing had changed. I was determined to do whatever I had to be with Ally, even if that meant forsaking the country I was born to rule. Riches and glory were nothing in the face of love.
Not when it was her face that was on the line.
38
Matthias
I went back to Ally’s parents’ house the next day.
The landscape seemed to come alive in the morning sun. The bleating of goats and clucking of chickens filled the air, and the breeze brought the smell of grass and wildflowers.
I could see why two people would choose to settle down here, so far from society. It would have been intolerable if they didn't love each other, but their strong emotions had tied them together and made this place bloom.
Perhaps this would be the kind of home Ally and I would build if she decided she wanted to stay.
If she decided she wanted me at all.
"Welcome back," Ally's father, Brent, greeted. "I still don't know if I'm supposed to address you as sir or something. Ally was unclear."
I chuckled and shook the offered hand. "Just Matthias."
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