Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
And yet, all I can care about are the hearts of two men I gave my own to. I care not what others think or what would become of the kingdoms.
I force myself to think only of the gardens. There is nothing I can do now. I must wait for word from my father or the princes.
It seems like hours have passed before there is a tentative knock at the door to my chambers. Isabel takes me to sit in a chair by the window, squeezes my hand, and goes to answer the door.
It is my father, the king.
Isabel curtsies deeply, then steps aside to let him come through. As soon as he has entered, she sweeps into the hallway and closes the door behind her.
I know I should rise to greet my father, but my legs feel too weak to rise from my chair. There is no telling what news he brings. All I dare to do is look into his face. His brows are knitted with concern, though I cannot tell if it is concern for the courtship with Prince Jasper that may be in ruins or for me.
My father crosses the room and goes to one knee before me, taking my hands.
The emotions dry up in my throat. The last time my father knelt before me this way, it was after my mother passed. I thought I would never stop crying then, either, and in those days I wept for the loss of her, but also the loss of everything we might do together. I would never be able to discuss suitors with her. She would never again talk with her friends to find out whose son might be available for a match. My mother would not witness my wedding. Suddenly, it became ever more important that I do all these things perfectly. If she could not be part of the courting process, I must proceed through it without a single flaw.
I suppose I have been weeping for that, too. For the mess I have made of all of this. I have not even allowed myself to think about how disappointed my mother would be.
My father loved her more than anyone. And for a few precious days, I thought I might have found something similar with the man who visited me in secret…and then with Prince Jasper.
That was before I knew who they were to each other. That was before Jasper knew who his brother was to me. There can be no denying that this is what they fought over. What other matter could have driven Prince Jasper to say such things, or Prince Casen to have had such an expression on his face?
My father looks up at me, waiting with patience I don’t feel I deserve.
“Cora,” he says, squeezing my hands gently. “I wish to speak with you, but I do not wish to distress you further. Are you well enough to talk?”
“Yes, Father,” I answer, finding that I am not only strong enough, I am desperate enough. I need to make this right and I need someone to confess to. The conversation is upon us. It is happening whether I am prepared or not. That is its own comfort. “Do you have news for me?”
“I think, daughter, that you may have news for me.”
A heat rises to my face although my father’s expression holds nothing but kindness and understanding. Still, I hesitate, my voice catching in my throat. How can I speak the truth of the situation to him? How can I tell him what is in my heart without erasing the love and acceptance from his face?
He seems to see that in my eyes, because he exhales and squeezes my hands again.
“You are my daughter, Cora. No matter what it is that you have to tell me, it will not change my love for you, and it will only be discussed between the two of us.”
“It might change your respect,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I fear you will think less of me.”
“It is not possible for me to think anything other than highly of you. You gave me a reason to live when I lost your mother. You remind me of her so very much. I would never think anything of you, but of love.” His words bring tears to the back of my eyes but I don’t let them fall. “Perhaps other men might sit in judgment of their daughters, but I will not. That is a promise I made to your mother when you were born.” He pauses, closing his eyes for a few moments. “And it’s a promise I swore I would keep to you all my life. Nothing you might say to me, Cora, would lower your esteem in my eyes.”
A few more tears slip onto my cheeks that I cannot keep from escaping after hearing my father’s words. I let them fall, breathing through them so that I might speak to him. I know I must.