Page 62 of Royal Pain
“I’m contemplating having a general election. If the people can choose their leader, they’ll choose you. That’s what’s best for Mozia.”
“But it will end the monarchy. And I’m not certain I’d even be good at the job.”
I actually am. I might be great at it. But I’m not about to go there now. Not until I take this all in.
The tears streaming down her face tell me how even the thought of that is ripping her heart out. I’m shocked too.
I go to her and wrap her in my arms.
“You don’t have to decide on this now. We’re too close to the tragedy to think clearly,” I say.
“I’m thinking clearly.”
“Wait. Let’s brainstorm what our options are and consider what’s best. Our country and its citizens have just taken two big hits. They’re feeling upside down, just as we are. Everyone needs to quiet for a while. Mother, I beg you not to make any rash decisions. Please.”
“Alright. I guess it’s best to take all the time we have.”
“I am right. We haven’t looked at all the pieces of the puzzle yet. There’s an answer short of ending the monarchy. I’m sure of it.”
“Just answer me this, son. Do you think you could lead this nation? Because I do. So did your father.”
Her words settle in my mind. But it’s my heart that feels the impact. What would that mean for the love I’ve just found?
* * *
This is fucking torture. Waiting for Belinda at my house was the only way it was going to work, but it sucks. The entire family is being watched closely now, so going to the airport was out of the question. It’s bad enough that at least thirty camera crews are outside the gates.
I don’t mind the newspapers or networks. I hate the paparazzi. Ghoulish men and women looking to profit from our grief. They’d love to get a photo of the queen crying. Better yet, one of us in a weak moment. Like Kwai. If he publicly got wasted or was in a situation that wasn’t respectful of the grieving process they’d be ecstatic. Those pictures would make money.
My mother’s words are floating in my conscious and subconscious alike. There will be dreams tonight. One time, when I was a boy, my father told me I hadthe gift. I can’t get the memory out of my mind. When I asked him what the gift was, he said, ‘The ability to see in dreams what hasn’t yet happened’.
At the time I was excited and a little scared. Until he told me he had the gift, and his father before him. He asked me not to tell my brothers, because they didn’t have it.
It was the only secret we ever shared, and I kept it close. The thing was though, I never had that kind of dream, so I dismissed his prediction. And pretty soon I forgot about it at all. Until two nights ago when I dreamed of my father standing beside an empty throne and one next to it that was occupied by a woman. I could only see her bent elbow wearing long sleeves. I have no idea who she was. I knew the dream felt different, it was more like watching a movie. I wasn’t in the scene, I was the observer. That’s when my father’s words returned to me.
What does it mean? He’d always be able to decipher the images he saw. Maybe it just takes practice, because I’m not sure this one is anything but literal. The throne is empty because no one in our family can take its place.
I need to think. It’s the most important decision of our lives, as far as the future of Mozia goes. The only way forward may be through my mother. Why couldn’t she assume the throne? Obviously she’s considered the path, but for reasons known only to her she’s rejected the idea. I’m going to find out why.
I hear the tires on the gravel, then the sound change as the car pulls onto the stone drive. She’s here!
Putting my coffee down, I head for the door. When I swing it open she’s already out of the car, running to me.
“Baby!” I say, scooping her up in my arms.
“I missed you so much,” she says before the kiss.
Her mouth tastes like honey. It’s forever sweet. I set her down so I can hold her tightly in my embrace.
“I need you here,” I say, whispering in her ear.
“I know you do. I’m here, baby. Let me love you.”
All this time Driver has been doing a bang up job of looking the other way. He retrieved her suitcases and placed them inside the house.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” she says to the retreating figure.
“Yes, ma’am.”
