Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,34
have to relive it every year.”
He sucks in a long breath, raking his eyes down my body and back up again. "This October hasn’t been so bad.” He shifts in his seat and for just a moment, I see him as a real person. A man who’s been hurt. Who thinks he’s failed.
Turning to stare at the fire, we listen to it crackle for a few moments. Then the Prince speaks. “We were going to an event together,” he says. “There was a crush of reporters and paparazzi outside the venue, as usual. They went everywhere Abby went. She was everything they wanted in a new princess, and the media was relentless. So, she decided to get out and walk into the crowd to greet some young fans who had come to see her. I had no choice but to agree.” His eyes get a faraway look in them as he sips his drink, then continues. “She collapsed. Right there on the sidewalk beside me. I’ve seen the videos and photos of those moments, but I don’t actually remember any of it.” The Prince’s face contorts. “I just sat there, cradling her body. I didn’t do CPR. Didn’t do anything. I just held her as she died. I froze.”
“Wolfe…” I whisper, afraid to talk.
“She had a fatal arrhythmia. Her heart just…malfunctioned. They say there’s nothing anyone could have done, but…” He shrugs, then finishes his drink in one gulp. “Sometimes I think that’s a lie. There had to be something I could have done, you know?” I watch him stand up to pour himself another drink, then turn around and tilt his head. “What about you?”
I glance at him, questioning. My throat is tight as I try to swallow, feeling the weight of his grief on my shoulders.
He jerks his chin at me. “Have you ever lost someone you loved?”
Usually, I’d shut this conversation down. I’d ignore any mention of death and grief, and I’d steer the conversation toward safer topics. Work. The weather. Architecture. Right now, though, my shoulders relax, and I find myself dipping my chin down. “My mother,” I reply. The Prince’s gaze meets mine, and all of a sudden, I want to tell him everything.
13
Wolfe
I came to the Summer Palace to get away from the people I can’t protect. I came here to stop playing the hero when all I ever do is fail. I wanted to run away from the images of those moments, when my true weakness was on full display for the kingdom to witness.
But Rowan dropped into my lap, and all I want to do is shelter her from the storm that rages outside. As I watch her fidget in her seat, my heart thumps. I love the faint blush that stains her cheeks, and the way her eyes flash when she looks at me.
She knows pain. I can see it in the tension in her jaw and the way her eyes tighten when she mentions her mother.
“What happened?” I ask, needing her to tell me. Needing some sort of connection that goes deeper than fealty.
She leans back in the armchair, letting out a long breath. “My mother brought me to Farcliff when I was a baby, and you can probably imagine how difficult it was for a single mother with an infant child to get by.” She glances at me, tilting her head. “Well, maybe you can’t.”
“I’m not so out of touch I don’t know how hard life can be, Rowan.”
“Have you ever gone to sleep instead of eating because you had no food?”
I stare at her, not answering.
Rowan sighs, glancing at the fire again. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…” She waves a hand at the cottage. “Even somewhere as nice as this, we didn’t have it. Mom worked three jobs. Did everything she could to make sure I had a good life. She took no time for herself and I’m pretty sure she never even went on a date after my father.”
“Who was he?” I ask. “Your dad.”
“Fuck knows,” Rowan spits. “The only thing I know for sure is he didn’t want me.” She smiles bitterly, shaking her head. “From what I can gather, my mom was the other woman. He had a whole other family that was more important to him than we were. Mom didn’t know about it until she went down to Farcliff and found him, living with his perfect wife and perfect kids. I was a couple months old.”