Page 98 of Tall, Royal and Grumpy

I was ten. I was a child. But I wasn’t stupid. I was old enough to know what he meant even if I didn’t understand what he was saying entirely.

My life was a lie. My mother wasn’t my real mother. I wasn’t a real princess.

I was nothing but an unwanted bastard child. Born from betrayal.

“And the worst part is I took it out on you as if it was your fault,” Kareem croaked, dragging me out of my head and back into the room. “I shouted at you like you had any idea what had happened, and I treated you like you had some part in Father’s actions.”

A whimper broke through the seal of my lips when he reached out and dragged the back of his fingers across my cheek, wiping through the stream of tears. “You weren’t. You never were.” He did the same to my other cheek. “But I was so blindsided by my anger at Father, and without having any way of talking to him about it, I directed that anger towards you.

“I convinced myself I hated you. That every memory I had with you was tainted. That by loving you like a little sister I was somehow part of what Father had done. And that made me hate myself because I felt like I had betrayed Mother.” His face scrunched in on itself. “Mother told me again and again that you were innocent in all of this, but I didn’t listen to her. For my own conscience, I thought I needed to make it clear that you meant nothing to me.

“So I did. In every way I could.”

Sliding towards me on the chaise, he cupped my wet cheek in his palm, and it was only then I realised his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. “I was wrong, and I should never have turned my back on you. But by the time I came to accept that, it was too late. I had already destroyed the light in your eyes.”

A sob wretched from deep within my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut, everything in me burning, screaming, raging at how we’d ended up like this, why it had taken us so long to try to fix it. Because the knowledge that I was Father’s mistake might have broken me but losing Kareem had hurt me so much more. He’d been my ally, my partner in crime. My best friend.

“I couldn’t take back everything I had said and done, no matter how guilty I felt. I didn’t know how to. And with Mother falling ill and me becoming King, I was a mess, and I thought if I had ruined everything already, then it was better to continue to keep you at arm’s length. Because you didn’t deserve to deal with the wreck I was.”

His mouth tipped into a self-depreciating ghost of a smile as a single tear slipped down his cheek. “I didn’t realise how much worse I had made everything by treating you the way I did until I pushed you too far. But it killed me realising I had failed you in every way that mattered as your brother. I had failed to protect you. Even from myself.”

“I didn’t need protecting from you,” I sobbed, slamming the flat of my palm against his shoulder. “I needed you to talk to me. I needed you not to push me away. I needed you not to abandon me. I needed my brother—I needed my best friend!”

“I know,” he whispered, another tear rolling down his cheek. “I know. And I can’t ask for your forgiveness; I can only apologise for failing you for the rest of my life.”

“You hurt me,” I choked out. “You hurt me so much, Kareem. And I took it all because I thought I deserved it.” I gasped for air. “I was Father’s mistake. I ruined the family. I didn’t deserve to be a princess, and it didn’t matter that Mother loved me as her own, I felt guilty around her all the time. And then she was gone, and I knew I had no right to, but all I hoped was that one day you would treat me like I was your little sister—”

I crashed into Kareem’s chest as he locked his arms around my shoulders. “You are,” he said into my hair. “There is no other truth, Esmeralda. You are my little sister. You are Mother and Father’s child. You are the rightful Princess of Jahandar. You’re my family. And I dare anyone to say otherwise.”

With a harsh sound, I clamped my arms around Kareem’s torso and buried my face in his shoulder.

The little girl in me who had always wanted to hear those words wept into his jumper until she’d cried double all the tears she’d shed silently into her pillow for nights on end. And it was enough to finally put that little girl to rest.

I was left behind with only cuts and bruises that would take time to heal, but at least now they could start healing. And this conversation had been the start of that process. A process I discovered very quickly that wasn’t going to be comfortable.

I shuffled in Kareem’s arms with a sniff as the atmosphere turned awkward and sombre after the sobbing and blubbering confessions had been completely drained from the both of us.

Kareem shuffled too before his arms loosened around my shoulders. And then slowly, stiffly we untangled ourselves. I avoided looking directly at him and I was pretty sure he did the same as we shifted on the chaise to once again create the space that had been between us.

He cleared his throat, and I distracted myself by straightening the hem of my jumper dress. “Are you—are you okay?” he muttered hoarsely.

My face was throbbing and no doubt my head was going to start hurting at some point soon, but I nodded. “Hmm. Are you?”

“Yeah—yes…I think?”

The question in his voice made the corner of my mouth twitch and I glanced over at him. His eyes went wide when I caught him looking and he quickly glanced away, only to look back at me sheepishly. He gave me an awkward little man-smile—more pursed lips than any actual curl of his mouth—that made things a little less weird.

“I should…” He gestured to the door. “I should go now. Let you rest. For tomorrow.”

I nodded. He didn’t move. I didn’t say anything. He cleared his throat. I gulped.

“Are you—are you going to accept a painted rose from Kai? Tomorrow, I mean.”

I was surprised by the question. “If he offers one, yes.”

“Are you and him…you know?”

“I think so…” Kareem’s brows knotted together, and I shifted. “I mean, we are, but we haven’t given it a label—yet. I think he wants to change that though.”

---