Page 40 of Bride By Coronation

My curiosity got the worst of me, and I cornered Sean on my lunch break earlier today. He told me that the wars were so bad when we were kids that Dad created The Underworld to protect us. Yet I can't see how it can.

Sean also insisted our mom knew nothing about the secret society. So I question if she had any idea who the man she married really was, which only serves to break me.

It all hurts my heart. The moments in my life I've grieved for my father, remembering the loving, generous man he was to all of us tear through me. Somehow, this new realization taints my memories. And it seems even more unfair to my mother, who still carries pain over his death.

Did he really love her if he hid something so important to him? He grandfathered himself so he didn't have to have his wife at his side at the table, so it leads me to believe he must not have loved her.

The more I think about everything, the more pain I feel. Right now, I want to crawl into bed and not deal with anyone, especially Sean or Zara, who I'm sure are the ones knocking on my door.

The banging turns louder.

"Go away," I call out.

The doorbell rings several times.

I rush over to the entrance, angrily whip open the door, and scold, "Stop ringing and banging?—"

"Good evening, Ms. O'Malley," a bald man offers. He has several large packages next to him.

The hairs on my neck rise. "Who are you? And how did you get past my security?"

He smiles and holds up his fist, showcasing my dad's skull, but there's no color on it. It looks freshly branded and has plastic wrapped around it. He announces, "Don't worry. I'm just a messenger."

I wince, wondering why my father chose such a barbaric thing. It could have been a beautiful tattoo instead of a painful brand.

Why put himself and others through extra pain?

How could he not love my mom?

He did.

He couldn't have, or he would have brought her into what he created, especially since a lot of the laws are around spouses. He had to have valued marriage.

The man declares, "I have a delivery for you from the king. Can I bring everything inside?"

My pulse skyrockets. I blurt out, "What is it?"

He shakes his head. "I am not privy to that, ma'am." He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. "This is for you as well."

Goose bumps pop out on my arms. I stare at the expensive cream envelope with my name written across it.

"Ma'am? Can I bring everything inside? I'm not allowed to leave until I can assure the king the items are safely within your possession," the man frets.

Not seeing any other way around this, and curious about what's in the packages, I open the door wider. I motion past me. "Go ahead, then."

He looks relieved as he nods. "Thank you," he says, and brings inside several garment bags and a white box with a gold bow around it. Hecarefully places the bags over the back of my sofa and sets the box on the coffee table. Then he turns and studies me.

"Sorry. Let me get my wallet to tip you," I say.

He holds his hands in the air. "No, ma'am. I apologize. I didn't mean to stare. I just wanted to get a glimpse of the future queen. I don't know if I'll ever be this close to you again. Please forgive me for any offense I may have caused."

I gape at him, shocked he knows so much about my situation and his enthusiasm to meet me.

"Please, don't hold this against me. I truly am sorry if I offended you," he begs.

"You're fine and didn't offend me," I assure, then ask, "What's your name?"

Nerves fill his expression.

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