Page 20 of Royally Arranged

Wearing the crown and marrying Austere is my only option.

Fuck.

Frustrated, I walked with my head down low. The constant, low roar of the ocean on my left pulled me along. I hadn’t gone far before I saw the yellow hue through the windows of a large ship moored at the docks.

TheSandpiper,I thought, remembering the ship that Nova had pointed out to me. Again my mind was attacked by the memory of her eager kiss.She wanted me to see that ship.Not knowing what else to do to distract myself, I stepped over the old wood until I was standing in front of the huge vessel.

Frayed ropes held the ship in place. A long plank was set into the open door in the side. It was dark, but with the spotlights attached to the hull, I could tell the white paint needed a fresh coat—badly.

“Hello?” a gravelly man’s voice said. The speaker leaned around the doorway; he was stocky, dressed in a plum-colored jacket that hid his knees and made him seem even shorter. “We’re closing up, son. Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right. I was just passing by.” From my angle on the ramp I could see inside theSandpiper. A heavy net was looped beside a shellacked, motorcycle-size swordfish. There were framed pictures bolted to every surface.

The man considered me. I felt his curious stare as he retreated into the ship. “Still time to take a look, if you don’t mind not getting the full tour.”

I was close to saying no thanks, but one of the photos caught my eye. “What’s this?” I asked, stepping up the plank into the wooden belly of the ship. The picture was faded in its frame, but someone had stamped an official-looking wax seal to the top corner. Imprinted in it was the telltale crown I had tattooed on my ribs.

In the photo were several sailors gathered around a young man who stood beside a shark so big it could have eaten him twice over in one bite. “That would be Hansel Fredricson, father of our recently departed King Hester, may they both rest in peace.” He pulled his flat brown hat off his head in reverence. Beneath, his hair was thinned to oblivion. “Name’s Mikel, by the way.”

Squinting at the photo, I said, “Hawthorne.”This is Maverick’s dad?The young boy looked so damn happy. I wondered if my father had ever looked so cheerful. “Did you know them?” I asked, helplessly intrigued by the history.

“What, the royal family? Yes and no.” Putting his hat back on, Mikel waved me deeper into the ship. He took me over to a huge book strapped down to a long table. “When I was small I met the king. Hester was a nice enough boy. Shame what happened to him.” Flipping the pages, he pointed. “It was his older brother, though, that came here the most. He signed ... right there, day he caught that swordfish.”

Glancing at the big fish attached to its plaque, I nodded slowly. When I was younger, I did recall going out on the ocean a few times with my father. But I’d thought he’d done it to entertain and win over powerful men with big wallets. Not because he actually liked fishing.

Mikel sighed into his thin beard. “Terrible what that family has gone through. First Hansel’s wife passes away when the boys were just teens, then their father goes a year later. Don’t think Hansel was able to hang on without Luca around.”

Luca?My lungs seized up. I’d been given that as my middle name, but I’d never known it was to honor my father’s mom.

He eyed me suddenly. “You go to the funeral?”

He has no idea who I am.Why would he? Looking at Maverick’s name scrawled in the book, I said, “Yes. I stopped in.”

He nodded like he approved. “Me too. Once it opened to the public, I went and said my piece. Can’t more be done than that by us common folk. Whatever happens after this is out of our hands.”

My fingers fell away from the book. “Thanks for showing me this.”

“Ah, my pleasure.” He winked. “Showing people a slice of history is good for my soul. Doing my part and all.”

Backing up, I glanced once more at the photo of Hansel. Then the giant swordfish. My father seemed to have had some of the same tastes as his own dad. I wondered how similar they’d been.

Leaving theSandpiperleft me plagued with new, but just as heavy, thoughts. Nova had wanted me to see the ship—she’d wanted me to see as much of Torino as possible before I left.

I’d thought I would try, because I’d expected the trip to be short.

I didn’t know if I had to be in such a hurry now.

- CHAPTER TEN -

HAWTHORNE

On the air floated a floral scent. Searching the street, I saw that I’d absently wandered back toward the cathedral where the funeral had been. Like I was possessed, I climbed the steps.

The flowers were all still packed in the entry. There were more of them than before. Thanks to Mikel, I knew the residents had been allowed to pay their respects once those closest to the king had cleared out.

Candles lit up the inside of the church. There were no people, and no casket.Right, they buried him.It was obvious, and I felt odd for forgetting they would do that. Had my father watched in silence? I pictured my mother holding his hand like she had earlier. As terrible a dad as he’d been, it left me raw to think about him seeing his younger brother put in the cold earth.

On impulse I wandered out toward the cemetery. I was compelled to find the fresh grave. I’d gone this far; attending the funeral without seeing the headstone of my uncle made it feel like a half measure.

---