Page 53 of Royal Rebel

“We’re going to do this now, huh?” Father looks around,seeing everyone staring at us. It’s not like him to do this in a public setting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to clear the room.”

It’s hard to push the saliva down my throat. I’ve never been scared of him, even when I’ve made him furious. Tonight though, I’m slightly worried. There’s something about the way he’s behaving I don’t understand. The look on his face is dark, full of thunder and hell-bent on injury. I’ve seen it a few times before, not always pointed at me, but I’m going to get the full brunt of it tonight. I have no doubt about it.

“Clear the room!” he says again, turning into the man I know. Getting frustrated when someone doesn’t immediately bow to his authority is one of his signature moves.

Parker steps forward. “Sir?”

Our eyes meet and we have an entire conversation in the span of a few seconds. That’s how well we’ve come to know each other. His loyalty is to me, not the crown. He doesn’t want me to do this, but there’s no way I can’t. If I’m ever going to get out from underneath what holds me down, my father and I have to have words. They have to be the words of an adult too, they can’t be the anger of a child.

“Go.” I nod to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Taking orders from you now, is he?” Dad rolls his eyes.

“I’m his king.” I take great pleasure in taunting him. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s being reminded he’s about to give all of this up. “All that’s left is the ceremony. Both you and I know the ceremony is just that. Ceremonial. Legally I’m the King of Haldonia.”

“Be that as it may.” Dad buttons his suit jacket. I’ve always hated when he pulls this move. It’s like he’s buttoning himself off from the rest of the world, putting onsome sort of mask that allows him to be someone else. “I’m still not sure you or your soon-to-be bride are prepared. Does she know you killed your mother?”

My blood boils. I run hot a lot of the time anyway, but right now I can feel the rage bubbling just beneath the surface. His accusations have bothered me for years, but tonight, I’ve had enough. “I didn’t kill her,” I argue.

“You might as well have,” he yells. Here it comes, how much he hates me. I’ve wanted him to say these words to me for so long. It hurts, but at the same time, I’m happy it’s finally out in the open. “She left here that night because you and I couldn’t get along.”

“Because you stopped seeing me as your son,” I yell back at him. These are the words I’ve wanted to say for so long. “The minute you realized you were going to give up your crown to me, the second you knew I would make a good leader, you stopped treating me like a son. You started treating me like an enemy.” I’m doing my best to keep the emotion out of my voice. But then I can’t. He needs to know. He should have known all along, tradition is tradition. “I loved you,” I whisper. “I would have done anything in this world to make you proud of me, but all you wanted was control. The law of succession is just that, Dad.” I shake my head. “A law. Regardless of what you want, I would still be taking the throne.”

“Don’t turn this around on me. I don’t want control. I want someone who will know how to bring this country into the next decade. Someone who has the best interest of the people at heart. Not someone who will run when it gets tough. Serious decisions have to be made when an entire country counts on you.”

“But when your son counts on you, it doesn’t matter?Does it?” I throw it back in his face. With most men, they would have the decency to feel bad. Not my dad, I think he takes some great pleasure in not being emotionally invested in anything other than the throne he sits atop.

“Run along, Tristan.” He smirks.

“I did run,” I admit. “I was a teenager. Of course I ran. She was my mother, and she was gone. One day she was here, and the next day she wasn’t. She was the one who made my days better, who cared how I felt. I was angry and I needed you, but you weren’t around. You were so deep in your own misery you couldn’t see how much I needed you. I still do, but you don’t want to hear that either.” I run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what you wanted from me then and I sure as hell don’t know what you want from me now. I’m sick of trying to figure it out on my own.”

“For you to take responsibility.”

“For what?” I scream, not understanding why he’s so upset.

He advances on me, wrapping his hands around my neck. He squeezes, and it’s right then I realize he’s lost his damn mind. “You killed her, Tristan. If she hadn’t left here so upset, she wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you, she wouldn’t have driven so fast.”

Surprise causes me to try to inhale deeply. He’s really doing this to me right now? My heart breaks in half because I know there’s no way for us to come back from this. He’s never assaulted me before, and I can’t believe he’s doing it to me right now.

I’m pulling his hands from around my neck. Trying to make him see what he’s doing. He’s seriously coming unhinged. Luckily I’m stronger than him, and I manage to slip the grip he has on me. “The paparazzi killed her,” I saythe words as calmly as possible, trying to defuse the situation. “If they hadn’t been following her, she would have cooled off and it would have been fine. It was an accident.” I do my best to try to get between him and his clouded memories of so long ago. I have no doubt he’ll severely injure me if I can’t get him to calm down.

“Nothing is ever an accident, Tristan. There’s always a plan.” He shakes his head. “Always a plan. Even when you don’t think it’s possible.”

He drops his hands from around my neck, leaving the room like nothing happened. As I watch him walk away, I can’t help but wonder exactly what he meant by those words.

CHAPTER 32

AMELIA

Today has been one of the longest days I’ve had since we came to the palace. The final wedding dress fitting and the last of the decisions for the wedding have been made. I get the feeling tonight is the last night Tristan and I will ever be normal again. It makes me sad, we had gotten into such a good routine, and now here we are. I haven’t even seen him today. Tomorrow night we won’t be sleeping with one another, so we have to make this count.

Entering the bedroom, I shut the door, sighing. The wood catches my weight as I slump back against it.

“Sounds like your day has been as long as mine.”

The deep tone of his voice is welcome, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve missed him, and all I’ve wanted to do all day is see him. “It has been.”

He comes walking out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, another towel scrubbing against his hair. “I’m sick of everyone pulling at us from all different directions.” He throws the towel on the floor.

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