“That used to be all you cared about, too.”
“You’re right. It was. And I was wrong. I hurt people because I was so blinded by what I thought of as my duty to the country that I couldn’t see the human consequences of my decisions. The country is important—no one’s saying it isn’t. But you can’t treat people like they’re interchangeable. Or worse, like they’re dispensable. That’s not what it means to be a leader.”
“Who are you to tell me how a leader should act? I know my job. I’ve been King of Wildemar for nearly thirty years.”
“You’ve been King so long you forget what it is to be human.”
“All you do anymore is whine and you wonder why I don’t want you to be King.”
“I don’t even know how to answer that. So, I think I’m going to hang up now. Before I say something I’ll regret.”
“We haven’t even talked about why I called.”
“Looks like it’s going to have to wait, then. Goodbye, Dad.”
“Wait!” He rushes to get it out before I hang up. “If you stop seeing this Lola woman, I’ll give you back the throne.”
My stomach drops to my knees and the whole world seems to stop. Just stop. “Repeat that, please?”
“I said,” he continues in a slower, more regal tone, “that if you show sound judgment and ditch this gold digger from Las Vegas, I will consider it a sign of your increased mental health. And since that’s always been my number-one priority…”
“You’ll give me back the throne.” My voice is totally disbelieving, but can you blame me? He’s been jerking me around about this for months, and now he thinks he’s going to use it as a bargaining chip in my relationship with Lola?
“I will, absolutely.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He pauses, like he’s not expecting that. But he recovers fast, and says, “You should, because I’m telling you the truth, son. Everyone knows you’re better suited for the position of king than Kian.”
“Then why the hell are we even having this debate?” I demand. “Why the hell have you been jerking me around for the last nine months? Nothing’s changed in that time, so why the sudden change of heart? And why should I trust it—or you?”
“You’re on medication now—”
“I’ve been on medication.”
“You seem more in control—”
“I’ve been in control.”
“You—”
“Cut the bullshit, will you. You’re pissed because you’re not in control anymore. Of me, of my relationship with Lola, of the attitudes of our people. This is your way of trying to get that control back. But it’s not going to happen. Not today; not ever again. I’m done being a puppet dancing to your string. Take the crown and shove it up your ass.”
His silence is deafening. My stomach is churning, my head throbbing at the finality of what I’ve just said. What I’ve just done. Two weeks ago it would be incomprehensible to me, but two weeks ago I didn’t have Lola.
There’s a small part of me that’s freaking out over what I just said, but I don’t try to walk it back. I’m sick to death of trying to convince this man that I’m good enough. I’m not going to do it anymore and I’m sure as hell not going to sacrifice the most real, most honest relationship I’ve ever had for a title that will never be mine.
When my father finally speaks, his voice is more frozen and rigid than I’ve ever heard it. “So that’s it? Some girl you’ve known for two weeks is suddenly more important than the position you’ve worked your whole life for? I’d thought I trained you better than that.”
“You did train me better than that. You trained me to be the best king I could possibly be. But that’s not good enough for you and I’m too tired to fight you anymore. And that’s on you, not on me. I’m not the one who chose to walk away from the throne. You’re the one who is shoving me out.”
“If you’re so weak you won’t even fight for what you want, then you don’t deserve it.”
“I have fought for what I want. I’ve been fighting for it my entire life, and I sure as shit have been fighting for it since I got out of that hellhole. But you don’t get to bring Lola into it. You don’t get to use the woman I love against me. That’s where I draw the line. That’s where I walk away. So go screw your—”
“Garrett!”
I freeze at the sound of Lola’s voice behind me. Fuck. How much did she hear? Please, God, not my father referring to her as a prostitute or a gold digger. No woman needs to hear that.