Page 19 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

Ilsa led the princess to the living room. A gentle breeze blew in from an open window to Father’s left, ruffling his graying blond hair as he leaned toward the low table in front of the couch.

Father looked up, his blue eyes bright with joy when he saw his daughter in the doorway. “My sweet Charis! You’re just in time for predinner snacks.” A frown marred his brow as he studied his daughter. “Are you well? Still shaken from last night?”

The ache within her sharpened to something white-hot and dangerous, and she swallowed hard.

“I’m fine.” Closing the distance between them, she bent to kiss his face. Two spots of pink flushed his cheeks, and his skin was dry and papery beneath her lips.

“Is she lying to me?” Father asked Tal as the boy took up a position just inside the doorway.

“Difficult to say,” Tal said, his voice gentler than Charis had heard yet. The affection on his face when he looked at Father warmed a small piece of Charis’s heart, though she knew firsthand it was impossible to spend any amount of time with the king and not love him. Unless you were Mother, but that hardly counted, as Mother made sure she didn’t get attached to anyone except Charis.

The king smiled at Tal. “But you’d tell me if she was.”

Tal returned his smile. “Between the two of you, she is far more intimidating, so I’m afraid if you want to question your daughter’s words, you’re on your own.”

“How do you like that?” the king asked in mock affront. “He spends an afternoon with you and suddenly he forgets a year of loyalty to me.”

“Who could ever be disloyal to you?” Charis settled onto the couch beside him and fussed with his blanket. “I heard you were feeling stronger today.”

“Truly!” He smiled and patted her hands until they stilled. “I think this new medicine is working miracles.”

The pang of knife-sharp hope that sliced into her left a trail of despair in its wake. Ignoring the fevered glint in his eyes and the tremble in his limbs, she made herself smile brightly. “You’ll be joining me for a swim in the sea before you know it.”

The king looked longingly out the window. “I don’t know about swimming, but I would very much like a walk on the sand. Perhaps you and Ilsa can take me when it’s warm enough.”

Summer had already faded. The winds that blew in from the sea at night were full of mist and skin-piercing cold, and the leaves on the thesserin trees were lined with gold and turning crisp at the edges. It wouldn’t be warm enough for the king to go outside for more months than Charis was convinced he had left.

Brushing her fingers over his, she focused on breathing past the sudden thickness in her throat before saying, “That would be lovely, Father.”

Charis leaned against her father’s side, blinking away the sting of tears when she felt the edges of his bones pressed against her. Once upon a time, he’d been the strongest man in her world. Lifting her over his head to spin her in circles in the garden, racing her across the sand to plunge headfirst into the water, laughing with delight when she proved stronger, fiercer, and far more competitive than any of her tutors expected.

The fact that she’d been so much like her mother had never bothered him, even though he and his wife had barely been on speaking terms since Charis was little. Would he still appreciate the ruthlessness in his daughter if he knew just how much like the queen she’d become? If he could see the fury in her heart, would he still call her his sweet Charis?

“What troubles you tonight?” he asked gently, his thin fingers brushing over her cheek.

Too late, she realized she’d allowed tears to fall. Quickly sitting up, she looked out the windows at the darkening sea as the first jewel-bright stars flared to life in the night sky. Obviously, Mother hadn’t shared with him that she’d sentenced three of Charis’s staff members to death.

“Charis.” He waited in silence until she finally looked at him. “There is no shame in hurting.”

Her mouth twisted into a miserable smile. “Tell that to Mother.”

His eyes darkened. “I tried years ago. She would never listen.”

Charis sniffed and blinked back more tears. “To rule is to be alone.” She repeated the words she’d heard fall from the queen’s lips a hundred times or more.

“No.” He shifted his weight and pressed one frail hand over hers. “We choose whether we walk through life alone or not. We choose to let people in or to shut them out.”

“If you let people in, it only hurts worse when they leave.” Her voice shook and the hand Father held felt like ice.

“Sometimes grief is the price of love.” His hand trembled a bit, and she turned hers over so she could lace her fingers through his. “But it’s always a price worth paying.”

“Is it?” The ache in her chest sank into her bones until she felt brittle enough to break.

“Who left you, Charis?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head. If she said Milla’s name, it would be real. It would be final. There were no lies between her and Father, and she couldn’t bear to speak the irrevocable truth.

“That’s all right.” He gathered her close, and she leaned against him once more. “Let the grief hurt for as long as it needs to, sweet girl. Just breathe your way through it.”

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