Reign of a King (Kingdom Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,60
gone at it right here, right now.
Elsa seems as bothered by the tension as I am. She digs into the couscous Kenza cooked and plasters on a smile. “This is so delicious. How do they make it?”
“Kenza says it’s a family secret. She won’t give away her special recipe.” I pick up my spoon and pretend I’m a functioning human and that Jonathan isn’t sitting beside me like a gloomy shadow straight out of a horror film.
“Do you like cooking?” Elsa asks me.
“Not really,” I tense as I say the words.
Jonathan leans over to whisper so only I can hear him, “One of the habits you gave up for your rebirth?”
“Shut up,” I hiss, then smile at Elsa.
Ethan takes a spoonful of the food and chews leisurely. “Alicia used to love these types of exotic dishes, too. Didn’t she, Jonathan?”
My tyrant remains unaffected, as if he were expecting the blow.
It’s Elsa who gasps, “Dad!”
“Was he supposed to ignore the elephant in the room?” Agnus speaks for the first time in the last hour, but he still doesn’t lift his head up from his screen.
Elsa glares at him from across the table like she wants to jump or punch him. Or both.
“It’s okay,” I try to calm the atmosphere. “I know I look so much like her.”
Ethan continues chewing, his attention never straying from Jonathan. “Is that why? You do know she’s not her, right?”
My grip tightens around the spoon as Ethan’s hostility rolls off my skin. It’s not that he’s attacking me directly. He’s saying those words to provoke Jonathan, and yet, I’m the one who’s stung by them with no warning.
But why?
I’m not Alicia. I don’t want to be Alicia.
Why can’t everyone stop comparing me to her? Or is this perhaps the karma I have to endure for abandoning Aiden when he was a young boy?
I was only sixteen at the time. I didn’t understand anything past the need to run, to shed my armour, and get the fuck out of Clarissa Griffin’s skin.
If I had the chance to do it all over again, I’d be there for Aiden. However, that means being in Jonathan’s entourage from such a young age. So thinking about it again…no, thanks.
I can barely handle him now. If at all.
A strong hand wraps around my thigh under the table and I jolt as I recognise the warmth of his firm grip.
Jonathan’s face has the usual coolness of a mountain so high, it’s toying with the clouds and reaching for the sky. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”
“Inquiring minds want to know, Jonathan. After all, Alicia left too soon.”
“Dad…” Elsa pleads.
Jonathan’s hold on my thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the skin. I wince, placing my spoon next to my plate. I’m in no mood to eat.
I stare behind me in a helpless attempt to have Layla get me out of here.
My attention is stolen by a petite girl in a dirty hoodie and torn shoes, who’s carrying a crying baby in her arms.
Sarah.
My fingers shake as the recognition settles in the pit of my stomach. She’s eleven years older now. Back then, she was around ten, her blonde hair cut to beneath her chin and her huge green eyes filled with tears as she held the sign.
‘JUSTICE’.
Everyone else hit me with eggs, food, and even used condoms. They called me names. They pulled on my hair and scratched my skin.
They called me an accomplice.
She didn’t.
She held on to my sleeve and whispered the words that broke me to pieces, “Please, can I have my mum back? I have no one but her. Please, I’ll give you everything I have.”
Then she was pushed away by someone who threw a bucket of black dirt on my face.
It’s been eleven years, but I’ve never forgotten that girl. I dream of her sometimes, of her green eyes and her silent pleas. Of the desperation in them, of the innocence that Dad killed along with her mum.
Even now, as I recall that scene, my skin prickles and my ears start buzzing with a shrill beeping sound.
They’re coming after me.
They’ll kill me.
‘Do you blame them, though?’
The words I heard from the officers who were supposed to protect me rush to the forefront of my brain. Even they thought I didn’t need protection. If it had been up to them, they would’ve thrown me out of the car into the hands of the protestors.
A harsh grip on my thigh brings me back to reality. I’ve been clutching my