Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,75
feel like they’re going to collapse. The fireplace is cold, the room empty.
And I feel so, so alone.
31
Wolfe
Summer months are usually special in Nord. The sun shines until late in the evening, and the weather is warm and pleasant. In the capital, shops will spill out onto the sidewalk, with many main roads closed off for days at a time to accommodate street festivals and markets. It’s like the whole kingdom explodes with life after a long winter of hibernation.
The Summer Palace is magical. Fields of wildflowers and herds of caribou. More birds than you can imagine. The whole place is so, so alive.
Usually, I’m there to enjoy it.
This year, though, I wish winter had lasted longer. Spending summer in Stirling is torture, especially when I know Rowan is only a short flight away at the Summer Palace. The days seem to drag on and on and on, with only a few short hours of darkness when I can sleep and be alone.
My brothers try to take me out hunting and fishing and riding. They try to bring me to sporting events and local festivals.
I go with them, at first, thinking it’ll distract me from the black hole in my chest. When, day after day, I realize it’s not helping, I keep to myself instead.
A month lasts an eternity. Truthfully, the past seven months since Rowan left have been the longest of my life. It feels exactly like the year after Abby died, when I just drifted through life, waiting for it to pass me by.
Jonah finds me in my study one afternoon, knocking on the doorframe before he saunters in.
“You’re still pining over that girl, huh?”
I glance up from the computer screen, where the latest progress report from the Summer Palace project is displayed. Leaning back in my chair, I arch an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You haven’t left the castle in two weeks, Wolfe.”
“Are you keeping track?”
“Clearly.”
“Well, don’t bother,” I grumble, turning back to the screen. “I’ll be heading back to the Summer Palace soon. They’re doing the unveiling ceremony for the visitor’s cottage next week.”
“They’re done already?”
I spin the computer toward him. “Three weeks ahead of schedule. Penelope told me we were all expected to head up there for the ceremony. Wants to show a united front and open the cottage up to tourism. She’s announcing it at the unveiling.”
Jonah kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, leaning back in his seat. His eyes stay trained on me.
I arch an eyebrow, meeting my brother’s gaze. “What?”
“Will she be there?”
“Who?”
“Come on, Wolfe.” Jonah snorts. “Rowan Reed.”
I stiffen at the sound of her name. No one has said it out loud since she left. No one’s said anything to me about the Summer Palace project, except to tell me to leave during construction and ask me to be there for the re-opening.
It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of her, but hearing Jonah say her name stirs something deep inside me. I’ve been lying to myself if I think I’m over it. Her leaving Nord last autumn cut me deep, and I’m not sure how I’ll recover.
I could deal with Abby’s death, in a way. It was sudden and senseless and rocked my whole existence—but there was a finality to it. Her heart malfunctioned, and she died. A sad, tragic end to a beautiful life.
But it was an end. It was over.
With Rowan, though? There’s no end, only an old reel of memories playing on repeat in my mind. Seven beautiful weeks where I thought life was sweet again. Seven weeks where I felt hope for something more.
Then, it was over—but it doesn’t feel final. She wasn’t ripped away from me in some tragic accident. Rowan left of her own free will. She looked at her options, and she chose to walk away.
How am I supposed to deal with that when my heart is still cupped in the palm of her hand? For the past four weeks, she’s been tantalizingly close, but I’ve stayed put in Stirling. Am I supposed to just go back to the Summer Palace and ask her for my heart back? Bow my head and beg her to release me?
Jonah punches my arm, arching his brows. “Well?”
“Sorry, what?”
“Will Rowan be at the ceremony?”
I shrug, trying to look more nonchalant than I feel. “No idea.”
Jonah stands with a sigh, dropping a hand on my shoulder. “How long are you going to live like this, Wolfe?”
I meet my brother’s gaze, frowning. I don’t know how to answer that.