Throne Away Page 9

  Listening to him talk about Amara, no one would ever guess that she wasn’t biologically his. He lit up at the thought of making her happy, and that alone melted my heart. I hated the situation he was in, but in the short amount of time I’d spent with him, I could tell that it wouldn’t take long for him to climb his way out of the hole his wife had left him in.

  “So…” He turned to face me more and put his hand on my thigh. The heat of his palm traveled through me until my entire body felt overheated. Nothing compared to his touch. “What have you been up to so far today?”

  This was all so domestic.

  Which only amplified my desire to be anyone other than a princess.

  “I attended a few meetings this morning with my father. One was with the Department of Transportation regarding the construction on the roads along the northside of the island. Apparently, they are behind schedule and requesting more funds. That just about put me to sleep. The next was with the school board to discuss next year’s budget. I’m fairly certain I nodded off at least once during that one.”

  “Shouldn’t you be paying attention in these meetings?” he asked with quiet laughter filling his tone.

  “Technically, yes, but it’s incredibly difficult when I’d rather be anywhere else.”

  “Is this what you have to look forward to when you wear the crown?”

  I sighed, feeling like this conversation had come with a giant raincloud. “Yes, which is yet another reason I don’t want it. Honestly, Ryan…I would rather be a paleontologist.”

  His brows knitted together in concentration. “Really? I wouldn’t have taken you for the type of person who’d enjoy staring at bones all day.”

  “I’m not.” It was hard to bite back my smile, especially when Ryan appeared even more confused than before. “I just meant that I’d rather be literally anything other than the leader of a country. It would be one thing if I’d asked for it, but I didn’t. The thought never crossed my mind, because it was always my brother who would fulfill the royal duties.”

  “Then why can’t you tell your parents that? Surely they wouldn’t want you to take that kind of responsibility on if it’s not what you want.” His innocence was rather cute.

  “It doesn’t work that way. It’s not a privilege; it’s an obligation. One I can’t turn down without turning my back on my entire family. They’d never forgive me, so the only choice I have is to suck it up and accept it, because my destiny won’t change.”

  “This just all seems so wrong.”

  “Tell me about it.” Although, I wasn’t sure if we were still talking about my taking the throne, or if we’d veered into the topic of our destinies not matching. “Unfortunately, I can’t fight fate. This was all written in the cards long ago; trying to deny it would only waste time, not change the outcome.”

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  I took a moment to consider his question. “I believe that we all have a destiny, and that we can’t change it no matter what we do. As far as fate is concerned, I believe it’s the force that gets us to our destiny. If that makes sense.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Do you have a different belief?”

  Like me, he seemed to contemplate his response for a moment. “Kind of. Like, I don’t think the end of our stories is already written. I think we each have a destination, but we don’t always end up there due to the choices we make. And I see fate as more of the navigation system. It’s that annoying voice that tells you that you’ve made the wrong turn and then helps you get back on the right path. And if you don’t listen to it, it continues to reroute you. Whether or not we follow its directions is up to each of us—we were given free will, after all.”

  What he was saying made sense, except I wasn’t ready to allow myself to succumb to that theory. Doing so would only give me false hope that I could change my outcome. And as much as I wanted to believe I could, the crushing blow of that not happening could potentially be fatal.

  For now, I had to believe that my end had already been written.

  Chapter 8

  Ryan

  Moira would never know how happy she’d made Amara.

  As we stood in front of the chateau, waiting for a car to pick us up, Amara wouldn’t stop bouncing on her heels. You’d think I had told her that we were going to Disney World. When I was her age, I doubt I’d be this excited about going on a tour, but this was Amara, and we were going to a castle, so it made sense.

  “Just remember, Amar-Bear, you must be on your best behavior. A friend of mine pulled some strings to get you a private tour, which means it’ll just be us, and we don’t want to make her regret that, do we?”

  “Dad, I got it.” Sometimes, she sounded much older than seven. “I promise I’ll be good.”

  Just then, a black car pulled around the drive and stopped in front of where we were waiting. A man wearing a suit got out and came around the vehicle to open the back door for us. It was all very fancy, unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

  Amara stared out the window in awe for the entire ride to the palace. There was no telling what went on in her mind. She had such an active imagination; her potential in life was limitless. When she saw the castle come into view, I wouldn’t be surprised if she imagined being the princess who lived there. Knowing her, she’d be trapped in a tower, waiting on her true love to rescue her.

  That’s why this opportunity was such a big deal.

  I’d never be able to thank Moira enough for doing this.

  Luckily, I was given the chance to show her at least some of my appreciation, considering she was the one who greeted us at the door. I hadn’t expected her to be here, but I could barely contain my elation when I saw her. I’d suddenly become more excited about this tour than Amara was.

  “Hi there, you must be Amara.” Moira’s smile lit her entire face as she greeted my daughter. “I have a very special day planned for you. Are you ready?”

  Amara fisted her little hands to keep herself from squealing. That was one of the things I specifically warned her against. Especially in the palace, as it would echo throughout the massive halls.

  After riling Amara up, Moira came to me, surprising me with a hug. The only reason it stunned me was that there were people standing with us—the driver, who stood next to the door, and from what I could tell, two members of her security team. But I certainly wasn’t about to refuse a hug, not if it meant I could physically touch her. And smell her hair.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if her shampoo was made from actual flower petals.

  “Are you a real live princess?” Amara asked as we made our way down the first hall. I’d only been to the palace once, when Libby brought me to meet Moira, so this was as much of a tour for me as it was for my daughter.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She winked at me, and my God, the glint in her eye released hundreds of butterflies in my stomach. “Would you like to sit on the throne?”

  Amara stopped dead in her tracks and turned her wide eyes and gaping mouth to me. “Can I, Dad? Can I sit on the throne like the Queen does?”

  My smile could’ve been heard in my tone when I said, “Of course, sweetheart.”

  We made our way through the palace, stopping and checking out the numerous rooms along the way. All the while, Moira played the part of informational tour guide exceptionally well. I was enthralled with the stories she told in vivid detail, as well as the history of it all. This ended up being for more than Amara; I very much enjoyed it, too.

  However, nothing prepared me for the throne room. I’d imagined a large room with heavy drapes along the walls and a long red carpet that led to a stage. And on that stage, I pictured two oversized chairs covered in red velvet. But that wasn’t even close to the real thing.

  First of all, it was much bigger than just a large room—it was a giant hall. Nothing hung on the walls, and instead of a red carpet leading to the stage, the white floor was inlaid with large red marble tiles down
the center. Then there was the ceiling, which had to have been the work of DaVinci or Michelangelo. Dozens of cherubs were carved into the stone that created a giant arc over the room. What I assumed to be the royal crest was engraved and proudly displayed behind the thrones, along with statues of angels sitting on a ledge that ran along the top of the wall.

  The stage—or dais, as Moira explained to Amara—was a lot smaller than I thought it would be, only big enough to hold the two royal chairs. Which were absolutely nothing like I’d pictured. For starters, they were white, and the seats weren’t red or made of velvet. They were green suede. Rather than a masculine and feminine throne, one designated for the King and the other for the Queen, they were both identical in every way. Even down to the intricate carvings along the legs and armrests.

  The entire space was truly unbelievable.

  “Did you bring your phone to take a picture?” Moira nudged me with her elbow and pointed to Amara, who was currently seated on the throne, a massive smile stretched across her dimpled cheeks.

  I must’ve been lost in thought, because I hadn’t noticed Moira come to stand beside me until now. But I covered my surprise by pulling out my phone and snapping a few images of Amara. She was completely in her glory. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her so happy.

  “Watch out,” I whispered to Moira without taking my eyes off my daughter. “Next she’ll be asking if she can wear your crown.”

  She lightly touched my lower back and leaned closer, her soft giggles completely taking my breath away. “Good, then she’ll love the coronation room.”

  It took a moment for the oxygen to reach my brain again so I could speak. Then it took another moment to replay her words in my head, making sure I’d heard her correctly. “The coronation room? Where’s that?”

  “In the cathedral.”

  “We’re going there, too?” I’d started to sound as giddy as my daughter.

  Moira continuously glanced toward the back of the room to keep an eye on Amara. That was enough to make me fall head over heels for her. “I told you it’s a tour around the island. You can’t do that without visiting the cathedral. And Amara can’t visit the cathedral without seeing the coronation room.”

  “Surely they won’t let her wear the crown.”

  Bright-blue eyes flashed with anticipation and excitement. “Of course they will, because I’ll be there to make sure of it.”

  “You’ll be there, too?” Really, I needed to stop acting like a kid in a candy shop. “I mean…don’t you have royal things to do?”

  Her laughter was silent, though it was noticeable in the slight jumping of her shoulders. “My entire evening is scheduled, but I didn’t want to go all day without seeing you. I figured this would give me a chance to spend time with you without taking you from your daughter.”

  She hadn’t planned this so she could see me.

  She’d done it for Amara with the added bonus of being with me.

  Very slowly, I could feel the shattered pieces of my heart coming together. In that moment, I wondered if the reason my heart had to break was so that someone else could reconstruct it. Not to make it how it was, but to completely rebuild it. To make it stronger. To make it better.

  Then, like a bucket of ice water in my face, I realized that Moira couldn’t be that person. No matter how many times my GPS kept leading me to her, it could never happen. Our lives and the choices we’d made kept us in separate countries. And unless something drastic happened, that wouldn’t change anytime soon.

  “And I got to wear the crown and sit on the throne, and she even had everyone calling me Princess Amara all day.” She excitedly rehashed every minute of our tour to Mandy, who couldn’t get a word in edgewise to even ask questions.

  Meanwhile, I sat back and watched what Moira had done to my daughter.

  She’d successfully let her be a kid again.

  For one day, her mom hadn’t abandoned her, she didn’t have to pick out clothes and shoes from a consignment shop to save money, and the best part, she got to experience what it felt like to be a real princess. There were certain things in life that you’d never be able to put a price tag on, and this was one of them.

  “Have you thought about how things will be once you leave this place?” Mandy asked quietly after Amara ran off to her room to video chat with her friends. “With you and Moira, I mean.”

  “There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing she can do. So it’s pointless to give it much consideration. The only thing I can do is prepare myself for whatever feelings I may have to deal with once I get home.”

  Her eyes roamed the room while she nodded.

  “It is what it is, Mandy. There’s no sense in searching for loopholes—there aren’t any.” And I would know, because I would’ve found one by now. “I just want to enjoy her company for as long as I can, all right?”

  “Fine, I won’t say anything else about it.”

  Closing my eyes, I dropped my head back and released a very dramatic exhale. “It’s not that I don’t want to discuss it. It’s just that it’s a little weird to be talking to you, of all people, about it. I’m technically married to your sister, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t. And in case you forgot, I’m on team Ryan all the way. What Carly did to you—” She leaned to the side and peered around the wall, likely making sure Amara wasn’t eavesdropping. Then she lowered her voice as she continued with what she was saying. “What she did to you is wrong on so many levels. And what she did to Amara is unforgivable. She might be my sister, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by her after what she did to you and that little girl back there.”

  As much as I appreciated that, it still didn’t make it any easier to talk to her about another woman. At the end of the day, she was my wife’s sister, regardless of whose side she stood on.

  “Listen, Ryan…I just want you to be happy. I want Amara to be happy, and I want everyone to leave the mess Carly created behind them. I’m excited about the idea of you moving forward, because the alternative is so much worse. We’ve all watched you wallow for almost a year. If spending time with some drop-dead gorgeous princess means I get to see you live again, even if it’s only for a week, then I’ll listen to you talk about her all day long.”

  “Okay, but what’s the point? Talking about her will only make me fall for her harder. Which will only make going home more difficult. And in the end, you’ll still have to watch me wallow, it’ll just be over a different woman. Is that what you want?”

  Mandy rolled her eyes, as if what I said was ridiculous. “You know as well as I do that whatever’s between the two of you won’t end when you go home.”

  “It has to. There’s no other way.”

  “Maybe not one that you can see, but I refuse to believe that she could’ve come into your life four separate times”—she held up four fingers to emphasize her point—“for it all to come to an end now. There has to be a reason that your paths have crossed so many times. And who knows…maybe it’s been more than that.”

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t considered the same thing. There was no way to truly know how many different ways our lives connected, nor would either of us ever fully understand the reason we’d met so many times. It was easy to imagine our paths crossing again in the future, maybe when the timing would be right. But I couldn’t allow myself to go down that road. It’d only leave me with high hopes and a very long fall.

  “It’s not only me, you know. It’s Amara, too. I don’t have the luxury to be selfish.”

  Sympathy glistened in her stare. “I know, Ryan. I get it. But taking Amara into consideration doesn’t mean you can’t have what you want, too. It is possible for you both to come out of this as winners.”

  “And we will.” If only I actually believed that to be true.

  The reality was that I’d never be able to divorce Carly without losing Amara, which meant I’d never be free to fully commit myself to anyone else. Marriage was off the table, as well a
s moving away from Mandy.

  The noose Carly had tied around my neck grew tighter and tighter.

  It was only a matter of time before she kicked the chair out from beneath me.

  Chapter 9

  Moira

  I’d just sat down for lunch—the first time I’d had a moment to myself all morning—when Andrew came in with an envelope in his hand.

  It was one thing after another, and I honestly wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep up. Which wasn’t good, considering I was obligated for the rest of my life. I began to wonder if it was normal to feel this way, or if I was the only one who would rather swim with sharks than take the throne.

  “What is this?” I asked as I took the sealed envelope from Andrew.

  “Not sure. Princess Elizabeth asked me to give it to you.”

  Libby hated her full name. If she could, she would have everyone call her Princess Libby, but that would never happen. In this family, it was practically a sin to have a nickname. I’d never forget the lecture I got from my mother the one and only time I had called my brother Danny.

  “Thank you, Andrew.” I waited for him to step away before I opened it. It could’ve been anything, and the last thing I wanted was for someone else to take a peek before I knew exactly what it was. Although, I felt rather confident that it had to do with Ryan.

  As it turned out, it didn’t have to do with him. It was from him. A letter, addressed to me. My heart skipped beats as I read it, and if anyone had been watching me, there would be no question in their minds that it was from a lad.

  A lad I happened to fancy.

  Dear Moira,

  After talking the other day about fate and destiny, I had some time to research a few things. One thing that I found is the origin of your name. You may already know what it is, so if you’ve heard this before, then by all means, skip to the end of this letter. But if you haven’t, then here you go: