“But you know what?” Ava asked. “You look like a real princess to me.”
To make her point, Ava leaned toward a small bunch of purple flowers nearby, plucking them from the ground. The small bouquet in hand, Ava tied a piece of grass around them, the little girl watching carefully. Then she tucked the flowers behind the girl’s ear.
“A crown fit for a princess.”
The girl beamed. “Thank you!”
With that, she was off, hurrying back to her friends near the water to show off her new accessory.
I couldn’t help but smile. Such kindness and warmth were needed in Edoria. In fact, it was a kindness that reminded me of one person in particular—her mother.
Chapter 13
Ava
Ihad enjoyed the day driving through the countryside more than I’d expected. Not that I’d anticipated Edoria to be boring. It was more a matter of the company.
Luc was still being his usual, grouchy self. Now and then, however, he’d open up more than I expected him to, especially when he’d told me about his history with my father. And there’d been that moment when I’d given the little girl those flowers—I was certain I’d seen something almost soft in his eyes when I did that.
It had been a good but strange day. All the same, as we drove back to Lausanne, the sight of the royal palace in the far distance was enough to make a sense of dread come over me. I wrapped my arms around my middle, as if protecting myself.
“Are you alright?” Luc asked, his eyes focused on the road.
“Fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You look tense and nervous.”
Luc may have been rough around the edges, but he was no dummy. I’d never been that great of a liar, and my skills at hiding the truth were nothing compared to his ability to see right through any amount of bullshit I tried to put in front of him.
“Maybe I am.”
“Is it about returning to the palace?”
I sighed. “Do you care?”
“Why wouldn’t I care? It’s my duty to be concerned about the princess’s welfare.” He’d stepped around the question, framing it as a matter of royal concern.
“Yeah, it’s about returning to the palace. I don’t like being there.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. It doesn’t feel right. And my father makes me nervous. There’s nothing warm or loving or welcoming about him. He didn’t even give me a hug when he saw me at lunch.”
“Would you have wanted him to? Some man you haven’t seen in decades and don’t even remember coming over to you and hugging you?”
“I don’t know. I mean… I don’t know. I know it’s only been a short time since I’ve seen him, but it’s so obvious he’s nothing like Mom.”
“Really? Tell me what you mean.” I had the distinct impression that Luc was trying to get me to talk about something happier, to not dwell on a subject that made me upset.
“Mom was… she was wonderful; I don’t know how else to say it. I have so many fond memories of her when I was growing up, how she always took the chance to make my childhood as special as she could. I learned cooking from her, you know. Mom lovedbeing in the kitchen, and she loved it when I was there with her to watch and learn.”
“I know that your mother was a good cook. I’ve experienced her cooking firsthand.”
“Really?”
“And I know she was warm and caring. I saw that, too.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Tell me about it.”