Loving a Prince Charming - By Danielle Monsch Page 0,8
extent that she sometimes forgot the part of him who was a man who loved his wife so completely he still carried a strand of her hair in a locket he never removed. It was to that side of him that she said, “I love him, Daddy. I’ve loved him for a long time.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “And he is as close to loving you as a person can without being in love.”
The words froze the breath in her lungs, the push-pull of conflicting desires strong. “Why do you think that?”
Taren let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to bring her against him in a hug, the full-body type he hadn’t given her for several years. “I’ve known Seth since birth, and because he isn’t my son, I can see him a little clearer than the king can. He is a man who embraces his responsibilities. It’s a rare and valuable trait, but it has the downside of always following duty and not heart.” He squeezed her harder, his warmth crowding out the cold inside her. “You are his heart, and every day he battles against it. Every day, I see him wrestle with this love and refuse to allow it to root, because he has to honor his commitments to his family and to his kingdom.”
“And his engagement to Rosamund.” The words had a bitter, ashy aftertaste to them, and a childish urge to spit struck.
Her father stroked her hair the way he had since she was a little girl. “I am not the king’s confidant and I do not understand his actions lately in regards to the engagement, but I do know His Majesty is determined this marriage take place, and that it is of the utmost importance.”
Kira gave her father a final squeeze then stood, taking several steps away from his embrace. The comfort was wonderful, but she needed to deal with this alone. It was her burden to bear. “I won’t ever come between Seth and his kingdom. I won’t… -I won’t tear his heart in two. I won’t have him regret what is his greatest gift.”
He seemed to understand her need for distance since he stayed seated. “I know you won’t. Never doubt you are as honorable as he is, Kira. You couldn’t love him as well as you do if you weren’t.”
It was only a fraction, but his words lightened the load in her heart. For the second time that night, she lifted her arm to rub against wet eyes. “I need to go for a ride. I need to be alone.”
Taren looked dubious. “You’re distracted right now and an easy mark. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Only into town. Riding away from the castle will start to clear my head. I won’t let myself become a mark, ever.”
It took several moments, but the nod of agreement did indeed come. “Do what you need to do, but be back before morning.”
“Promise.”
And while she did keep her wits enough that she was never in danger from an enemy, Kira’s meandering journey brought her to an area of the city she had not visited before. A small tavern, brightly lit and oddly inviting, drew her eye, and after stabling her horse Kira walked inside.
It was half-filled, the talk subdued and the clientele older, but there was a strain of merriment for all that. Kira sat at the bar.
“What can I get for you, child?” From behind the door an older lady walked out, gray-haired and cherub-cheeked. Her smile was warmth personified and every tense muscle in Kira’s body relaxed as she basked in the woman’s presence.
“Nothing too strong. A cider please.”
“Of course, of course.” The woman bustled about the bar. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
“First time here. Name’s Kira – thank you,” she added, as the woman set the glass in front of her.
“I’m Sara,” came the reply. “And while I find it fascinating, not many young ladies come in here with a sword at their side. Care to share your story?”
With a shrug, Kira answered, “It’s nothing world-shaking. My father believes that a woman should be able to protect herself. He taught me.”
The look on Sara’s face was pure approval, and her voice held not a hint of mockery. “Good for him! An admirable man. Men like him are part of the reason women will have equal rights one day.”
Kira took a sip of the cider, needing both a moment to compose her thoughts as