Queen of Men (King Maker 2)

“Daughter.”

We turned as a unit to face my father. In typical fashion, he wore a hat that crowned his head. His beard, which had been the same burnt orange as my hair, speckled with gray.

“Father,” I said respectfully, bowing my head and quickly letting go of Turner’s hand.

Though I didn’t agree with the archaic views of the community, I had to respect them as long as I was here.

“Mr. Glicks,” Turner said.

“You may go home. I’ll see to my daughter.”

Turner glanced my way and I gave him a tiny nod that I’d be fine. He then nodded to my father and headed out, not in the direction of his family home. I wondered if he was headed to see Margaret, the woman I’d seen him with the last time I’d been home.

“You need to leave that boy alone,” my father directed.

“I’m not—”

He didn’t give me a chance to finish. “He’s a good boy and deserves better.”

As much as I wanted to believe I wasn’t that girl who needed her father’s approval, it stung to hear him say that. I opened my mouth to protest, but he was right. Turner did deserve better and not because I was bad. But because if nothing else, this moment put in complete clarity how much I no longer belonged here.

“Why are you here?” he asked as if I wasn’t welcomed.

His voice held no amusement nor his face a smile, but it wasn’t anger that fueled his words. My father, one of the leaders of our community, was tasked with the wellbeing of our sanctuary. My showing up without warning after I’d fled so long ago could only mean one thing to him. Trouble.

Most children could be honest with their parents. But if I told him everything, I wouldn’t be welcomed. Though I hadn’t completely let myself think about it, the black roses Lizzy said had been sent to me bothered me. Who would have sent such a thing and why?

Then there had been all of those warning messages I’d received. I wanted to believe they had to do with the women in Scott or Kalen’s lives. But what if they had something to do with the fraud I’d uncovered at King Enterprises?

“I’ve asked you a question,” Father repeated.

“I missed home,” which wasn’t a lie.

He held my gaze, gauging my truthfulness.

“Your presence confuses your sisters.” I wasn’t surprised he didn’t mention my brothers. As men in general, they were held to different standards. “You will keep your answers to their questions about the outside world to a minimum. Your sisters are coming of age and you don’t want to affect a potential advantageous pairing for them.”

If my father hadn’t been the man he was, I would want to take my sisters far away. But though Father was firm about a man’s role, he’d never been one to take choices away from his daughters. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been allowed to leave to go to college.

“Yes, Father.”

“I assume your stay will be short. As it’s late, you can make a pallet for yourself in the main room of the house. Tomorrow, however, you will see if Mary or Violet will take you in.”

It hurt to hear that I wasn’t welcomed, despite staying with one of my sisters would likely be more comfortable as they would have more space.

Though my spine was ramrod straight, I still gave him the respectful, “Yes, Father.”

“You will also stay away from Turner. Margaret is so looking forward to a spring wedding, and I don’t want you to be the cause of her disappointment.”

Thankfully, the gasp of shock got stuck in my throat and I managed to dislodge another, “Yes, Father.”

No hugs or questions regarding my wellbeing, he simply nodded and headed toward home. Not that I expected more. He simply wasn’t that type of guy.

The main reason I followed like a dutiful daughter and didn’t go to my car and leave was the chance of seeing my mother and siblings.

If my last few weeks had taught me anything, I’d learned the power of words. When to use them and when to say nothing. Kalen had the art down. Now was the time to hold my tongue. I could always leave. It would take a great deal of strength on my part to stay.

As I followed, I tried to believe my father still loved me, but he hadn’t given me any indication that he did. It was my mother who loved me unconditionally. She’d proven that when she’d used her words to fight for my right to leave. Though honestly, I would have bet my father was somewhat relieved at my decision to go. Yet, I was back without prior approval, which appeared to have my father on edge.

When we reached home, firelight glowed in the windows. I stayed on the porch for a minute after my father walked in before entering my childhood home.