Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,117
and need to stay in the country while I undergo those. Creed’s skills will be wasted if he’s forced to remain here doing absolutely nothing. Your travels will take you to some places with fairly high crime rates. There’s no one I’d trust with your safety more than Creed. So I’m sorry. He’s staying on your detail.”
“But—”
“No, Esme. I understand why that would make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if it does. It’s not like he’ll be sharing a room with you. He’s there to protect you. That’s it. And maybe you can both use this as an opportunity to clear the air.”
“I’m still with Marius.”
“I know. And I’m also aware you’ve talked about marriage.”
Her eyes widen, obviously not expecting this, but I’m king now. As such, I have to approve her marriage, which I’ll do no matter who she wants to marry. I’d never come between my sister and the person she loves. Not like the royal household nearly came between Nora and me. But those days are over, all members of the “old guard”, as I put it, no longer part of the royal household.
Immediately following Nora’s and my return to Belmont, my father cleaned house, starting at the top with Dalton Peel, who he discovered had actually paid Nora’s mother quite a large sum of money to give the interview that nearly cost us everything. Instead, he brought on people who could modernize the Crown, make it relevant even in this day.
“I want you to be happy, Esme,” I tell her. “And if Marius makes you happy, great. But you’ve been here before. Been with someone for years, developed a relationship, even talked about getting married, only to change your mind when he kneeled in front of you with a ring. At some point, you need to address what’s causing you to constantly push away every man when you’re on the brink of getting engaged or married.”
She peers into my eyes. I expect a little more pushback from her. Instead, a smile spreads across her face before she bursts out laughing.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “It’s really bloody difficult to take you seriously right now.”
I look in the mirror at my sweater, seeing a knitting of Jesus in a birthday hat, a noisemaker in his mouth.
“‘Birthday boy’?” she remarks, reading the print on my sweater.
“What? Technically, he is.”
“Come on.” She stands and loops her arm through mine, leading me from the bedroom. “Let’s get back to the party. Wait until you see Nora’s sweater. You’ll love it.”
“Why? Did you help her with it?”
“And if I did?” She waggles her brows.
I glance at her sweater. “I should probably be scared.”
“Oh, you definitely should. But I think you’ll appreciate it even more.”
We continue down the stairs and toward the living room, the sound of laughter filling the halls, turning this once cold, empty palace into an actual home.
Just before we’re about to join our family for our Christmas Eve celebration, Esme stops me. “Merry Christmas, Anders.”
“Joyeux Noelle, Esme.”
I wrap her in my arms, kissing her cheek. Then I pull back, leading her into the living room. My father and grandmother sit on the couch with Hunter, doting on him, treating him like the toddler he is, not the future king.
A large tree stands tall in front of the windows, the plaza outside covered with a fresh coating of snow. Unlike years past when the tree in the private residence was designed by professionals, Nora, Hunter, and I decorated this ourselves with ornaments the palace receives from various schools throughout the country, as well as personal ones — Hunter’s handprint, a piece of cement from Route 66 I’d picked up, and even that first ultrasound photo of Hunter when he was still Little Pickle.
That’s when I notice something I hadn’t before. Another framed photo just below Hunter’s first ultrasound. It’s nearly identical to that one, except for one very important detail.
Slowly, I make my way across the room, eyes focused on the tree. The world seems to go quiet as everyone watches me.
I unhook the ornament from the branch, squinting as I try to make sense out of what I’m looking at. I glance from this black-and-white picture to the one of Hunter, then back again, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Congrats, Daddy,” Nora murmurs from behind me.
I whirl around to see her wearing a Christmas sweater of an oven over her stomach. But instead of only one gingerbread man inside, there are two.