The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,108
and I felt so powerless.
I don’t know how long we were like that, but when the sobbing ended, I managed to help him off the floor and onto one of the chairs. I tried to give him water, but he shook me off.
“I thought...I was preparing for my father, begging God to spare my father, and instead, he took my brother.” He shut his eyes, shaking his head. “My mother was right. We are cursed—
“No, you are not.”
“You do not understand.” He sniffed, cleaning his nose. “In every generation of my family, there are these three major miseries or tragedies. People call it the Monterey curse. My grandfather lost three of his children, back-to-back, in freak accidents. His father, my great grandfather, lost Ersovia to the Nazis, his wife and their sister were caught and killed before he was exiled. It goes on and on, and I never thought much of it. Now it is our turn. My father’s brain is deteriorating, which caused him to squander our wealth, and now my brother...my brother dies in a plane crash? How is that not a curse, Odette! I never believed before—”
“Don’t start believing now,” I whispered, taking his face into my hands, but he closed his eyes, trying to pull away. “Gale! Do not start to believe in it now. Misery and tragedy can find anyone. Am I cursed, too? For my pain? No. I’m human. You are human, and you are heartbroken. And it is easy at this moment to believe that the world is out to break the rest of you. It is easier to believe that you are cursed than to believe that you are just like everyone else suffering a loss.”
“I am not, Odette. I am a prince. Now the crown prince. How? I can’t. That’s Arthur’s spot. Only his...until his heir takes the throne and their heir—not me. Never me.” Tears slipped from his eyes again.
“When you are with me, you are Gale,” I whispered, putting my head to his. “You are just a man—my husband. And you are in pain. I understand. But please, please, don’t give up believing you can survive this. You will survive this. It doesn’t feel like it. It will take every fiber of your being, but you can. It is not a curse. It is life, and you can’t let it beat you.”
He held onto the sides of my face. And we stayed like that as he took deep breaths. “How am I supposed to know what the right thing to do is?” he muttered. “My brother always knew.”
“I don’t know.” I wished I did. I wished I knew how to help him. “I know nothing about what it means to be you right now. I just know you can only do what you think is right and wait for the world to let you know if you are wrong. Take it step-by-step. What must you do right now?”
“I...have to go back home,” he replied.
“So, go.”
He stared into my eyes for a moment, and then he kissed my lips once before we separated. “You will need to stay here. When everything is settled...I...will send for you. All right?”
“All right.” I nodded.
His eyes shifted to the door, and he exhaled, cleaning his eyes of the tears, but he still couldn’t manage to get up. And so, we waited until he could. I wasn’t going to rush him, and I would fight anyone who did.
I managed to stand but could not go out. Instead, I asked Odette to call the rest of them back in, and when they came, they all came. I could see they were all waiting for me. Part of me wondered if they cared that Arty was gone. Did they weep? Did they hold a moment of silence? Or did they just look for who had the power now?
“I do not even know who you are. And yet you are the first one to tell me my brother is dead,” I said to the balding man with a gray mustache and brown glasses in front me.
“I am Dennis Parlevliet, International Liaison Officer for the Ersovian government.”
“I was under the impression that all international liaison officers were stationed in Washington, DC, with the ambassador, not Washington state? I am rusty on my American geography, but that is on the other side of this country, is it not?”
“We were notified when you came, and I was sent to make sure no incident—”