Reluctantly Royal
Page 3

“Of course not.” He helped me out of the car. “Would you like me to accompany you inside?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to be rude, but this was something that I needed to do alone. “I think it would be easier if there was no one else there when he finds out. He was very close with my grandfather.”
“I’ll stay with the car then.”
“No, I’m sure you have more important things to do. I can get a taxi back to our flat.” I shook my head.
“I’m not leaving you at a time like this, and I’d rather have you in the air on the way to Lilaria before the press catches wind of things.” He closed the door and leaned against the car.
“I guess you’re right.” I chewed on my lip again. “I’ll book tickets from my phone.”
“The royal plane is waiting for us. I’ll be seeing you home.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and his eyes bored into mine. “I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this.”
I watched him for a minute, surprised by his vehemence. “I owe you thanks again.”
“You owe me nothing.” His eyes were sincere. “It’s my pleasure to help.”
“Such a princely thing to say.” I felt my mouth pull up in a small smile.
“Well, if the shoe fits . . .”
“Is it crystal?” I looked down at his feet.
“Leather.” He lifted one foot and smiled. “Much more comfortable than Cinderella’s slipper.”
“And manly.” I laughed and straightened my shoulders. I would have believed my own performance if I didn’t ruin it by sniffing. “Well, time to face the music.”
Taking a deep breath, I rooted through my soul for a role that would fit this moment. A strong woman, a capable mother who could be the rock her son would need.
Without a look back I strode up the steps and through the double doors. The further my feet took me, the stronger I felt. I could do this, tell my son that his best friend had died, and be there to hold him when he fell apart. By all that was holy, I hoped my strength would hold and I wouldn’t turn into a sobbing mess.
The woman at the front desk was more than understanding and took me to a small conference room while someone fetched my son. When the door swung open, Marty ran straight into my arms.
I pressed a kiss to the top of his brown hair and squeezed him tightly. “Hey there, big boy.”
“Why are you here? Do I get to go home early?” He looked up at me with eager eyes.
“Yes.” I smiled and knelt down so that we were eye to eye. “Something has happened and we need to go back to Lilaria.”
His face froze. “Something bad?”
“Yes, baby.” I placed my hands on his shoulders. “We can talk about it in the car.”
“Is it Great-Grandfather?” His big eyes looked up into mine and shimmered with understanding. “I had a dream about him last night. That he was telling me good-bye.”
My mouth fell open for a minute, but I managed to pull myself together. “Yes, it’s Grandfather.”
“He died?” Fat tears pooled in his eyes. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Yes, baby. He died in his sleep.” I pulled him against my chest and buried my face in his hair while he cried.
“But I’m going to mi-i-iss him so-o-o much.” His little arms wrapped around my neck and part of me broke right there on the floor of his school. “He can’t be dead.”
“Shh.” I smoothed his hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Remember how much he loved you? He’s always going to be with us.”
“It’s not the same.” His little body shook against mine and tears filled my eyes. “It’s not the same!”
“I know, baby. I know.” I sat down and pulled him into my lap, letting him cry. “But he’ll be here in our hearts, in the little things that remind us of him.”
“Like fishing?” He sniffled and rubbed his nose on the back of his arm. Apparently that was a family trait.
“Oh, you know it. Every time you catch a big one, he’ll be right there watching.” I rocked us gently and fought to keep a smile on my face.
“What about the little ones? I always manage to catch tiny ones.”
“Even the little ones.” My chuckle sounded wet so I cleared my throat. “Remember what he always said?”
“Can’t catch the big ones without the little ones.” He lowered his voice.
“That’s it. Bait fish make the fishing go round!” I mimicked his tone.
“What does that even mean?” Marty looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and a curious expression. “What goes round?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “It’s just what he always said.”
“Now we’ll never know.” His little voice sounded so sad.
“I bet we’ll figure it out.” I squeezed him tightly once more, before getting up off the floor. “Are you ready? There is a plane waiting for us.”
“Can I have your pretzels?” He rubbed his nose on his sleeve again. I really needed to cure that habit.
“We have a lot more than pretzels.” Max’s deep voice rumbled from the doorway.
I looked up at him, annoyed that he had come to check on us—thinking that he had been tired of waiting—but the anger melted away at the sympathy in his eyes as he looked at Marty.