Theo and I have never discussed actually being together. We’ve always operated under the assumption that this would end.
It did end. Approximately fifteen minutes ago.
But with the baby…
Wouldn’t that make him reconsider? Wouldn’t that make our relationship a lot more real?
Do I want to commit to him and to staying in Argyle?
Committing to being Theo’s wife isn’t just like anyone else. I’d be giving my life to the Kingdom. I’d be pushing my own dreams aside, once and for all.
My hand drifts to my abdomen, and I think of the life growing inside me. It terrifies me and excites me all at once. There’s a sense of wonder that grows with every hour that passes, filling me up like a helium balloon.
Am I fit to be a mother? Would Theo want to be a father?
Could it really work between us?
A thin stream of hope starts snaking its way through my heart. It’s a tiny sliver of brightness, but it’s there. It’s enough to make me hesitate. Enough to make me think that maybe being with Theo is what I really want.
Stay. Have a family. Love a man with all my heart. Serve my Kingdom and find my purpose.
What was my plan, anyway? Run off to the States, maybe to Farcliff, maybe to Paris or London or Madrid. I was ready to leave this life behind and chase my dream of making it as a musician.
But what if I can find myself right here in my home Kingdom? What if I can travel the world with Theo by my side?
I can sing for myself and for my baby. Isn’t that enough?
Or maybe, being with Theo would be the final nail in the coffin of my dead dreams. I’d see all these beautiful places around the world and be treated like a Queen, but I’d be sentencing myself to a gilded cage. I wouldn’t have the freedom to study music or to sing loud and freely.
With my heart in turmoil, I trudge toward the staircase that leads to my bedroom. Thankfully, the house is silent. My mother must be away with my sisters, and who knows where my father is. Probably in a body of water somewhere, swimming from dawn till dusk. That’s where he feels most comfortable.
But just as I think of him, my father appears in the library doorway. His eyes land on me, and I can tell by the shadow on his face that he has something to say. Without a word, he nods to the library door before slipping back through the opening.
I drop my bag at the foot of the stairs and slump my shoulders.
Just when I think life has thrown everything at me, here comes another wave to knock me sideways.
When I enter the library, my father has his back to me. He’s leaning on his wide, hardwood desk, with his white-haired head bowed to his chest.
“Close the door.”
I bite my lip and do as he says. I’m almost afraid to breathe.
My father is warm and friendly. He’s a hugger. He’s the one person that I can count on to brighten my darkest days.
But now?
Something’s wrong.
He reaches over his desk to grab a yellow legal envelope. Turning to face me, he extends it in my direction. With a trembling hand, I grab the envelope and read my name on the front of it.
The return address is The Juilliard School of Music in New York. I’d applied to their voice program months ago before flying up on a weekend to do an audition. I’d told my parents that I was visiting one of my cousins. I never heard back. I assumed I hadn’t gotten in.
My father nods to the envelope, and I tear open the top. My hands tremble and my vision goes blurry as I read the first word: Congratulations.
I can’t read anything else. My eyes fill with tears and my heart starts racing. I’m lightheaded. I reach for one of the plush chairs in front of my father’s desk, sinking into it as I clutch the envelope.
“You applied to music school?” my father asks, sitting on the edge of his desk. His voice is neutral, and I don’t have the guts to look at his face.
I nod.
“Without telling us?”
“I knew you wouldn’t want me to go.” My voice breaks on the last word. I blink my tears away and pull the acceptance letter out of the envelope, forcing myself to read it in its entirety.