Page 78 of Between Despair and Hope

“Mama.” She widened her eyes at her mother, trying to subtly hint something Emma wasn’t picking up. “Go get the tea.”

I couldn’t hide my amusement as I grinned at her. She tapped her fingers on her knees, avoiding my gaze.

“Em, it’s fine. Make her the tea. We’ll be alright.” I gave my wife a smile, and even though she started wringing her hands, she finally left the room. I turned back to face the girl on the bed, looking so small in it. Harsh confidence gone with her mother, my daughter seemed nervous. I worried she might have been scared of me, and I wasn’t sure of the best way to approach her. “Can I sit at the end of the bed, Elora?”

Permission granted, I kept my distance as I joined her. I was just about to address her, introduce myself, I supposed, when she took a deep breath and words tumbled out of her mouth.

“I hope you know you hold no obligation to me, and if you don’t want to have a relationship with me, I understand it. I don’t need it, you don’t need it, and I don’t want either of us to force something because of Mama. She will just have to deal with it.” As an afterthought, she added, “Your Majesty.”

I blinked, surprised at the force of her statement. I studied her for just a moment. Gods, she was her mother’s daughter. Headstrong, practical, and clearly deluded. If this girl thought, for even a moment, that I wouldn’t want her as my child, that I didn’t want everything that entailed, I was going to have to set her straight.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Elora. ‘Your Majesty’ sounds much too stuffy, don’t you think? Rainier suits me fine.” I smiled at her, warm, still conscious of her wariness. “But on one thing, you are mistaken.”

“What?”

“Your mother’s wants have nothing to do with it. Idoneed it—a relationship with you. If you’re willing.”

“It’s not like I can stop you, anyway. You’re the king. I have to do as you say.”

“I’ll never ask you to do something you don’t want to do.”

She jutted out her chin in a painfully familiar way. “So, how is this supposed to work? I tell you my favorite color, you teach me how to fish? You send me to my room if I’m rude to Mama? My last father already taught me how to fish.”

“Your favorite color is yellow, and I hate fishing just as much as you do. I also think your mother can hold her own against you.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I may have studied up on you,” I admitted, a bit sheepishly. I’d asked Em dozens of questions about her before I even knew she was mine. “I’m sure I can teach you other things though, if you want. I’m pretty decent at skipping rocks.”

She rewarded me with a small smile.Mysmile.

“I thought old men liked fishing.”

Head thrown back, I laughed harder than I’d imagined possible. I felt a surge of elation through the bond a moment before I heard Emma’s footsteps down the hallway. The girl next to me was fighting a smile, cheeks darkening and eyes bright.

“How old do you think I am?” I asked, wiping a tear of mirth from my eye as Em stepped into the room, placing the tea service down on the table in front of the fireplace.

“I don’t know, forty?”

I snorted. “Close. In four more years, you’d be correct.”

“Cy—I was told you both performed the ritual. That’s probably a good thing.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, exaggeratedly rubbing her fingertip between her eyebrows. “Mama had been complaining about getting wrinkles.”

“Little miss,” Em’s voice chided, and by the gods, I would’ve had her lay healing hands on my heart if I hadn’t known any better. The hammering beat and tightness in my chest was almost too much. Hearing the two of them banter, both pieces of me in the room together, was almost too much to take in. I swelled with pride and emotion.

Emma walked past, carrying a teacup for Elora, and she rested her hand on my shoulder as she passed it over. Lifting my head, my eyes met hers, and I wanted to swim in them. I wanted to pull her into my lap, to cry with her, to laugh with her, to breathe her in. But when my eyes made an involuntary movement, counting those freckles, I knew it was too soon.

But we’d be safe enough for a while. The three of us. I could pretend it was alright. For her, for them, and, honestly, for me. I didn’t want to ruin this moment for them, this first chapter in our new lives, as much as I didn’t want to ruin it for myself. I put my hand atop Em’s, giving her a tentative smile, and emotion flooded through us both, eyes and the bond telling us more than words ever could.

“Sit with us,” I murmured, tugging on her hand. Nervous laughter bubbled up her throat as she sat beside me, and I held her hand in my lap. Elora stared at us from her place at the head of the bed, and I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to learn her, know her, gain her trust. At the same time though, I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

“Where is Cyran being kept?” Elora asked, more a demand than a question.

I clenched my jaw, ready to kill him, but winced at my tooth, still aching. The tooth had given me issues before, and I considered just ridding myself of it.

“I pulled him out of the dungeons to help wake you. He’s stayed here since he came back from Folterra, but we will move him.”

“Came back?”

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