“Well, Carolina, Raymond, this is where we part ways. An envoy from the empire will arrive in three days’ time, so do make sure any loose ends are tied up before then. And remember, not a word about this to anyone else, do you hear me?” His Majesty listed this litany of instructions to my father and myself as we all headed out towards the rear entrance of the manor.
Father and I both flashed our fusspot king wry smiles—this was the third time tonight that His Majesty had emphasized the need for secrecy. Perhaps he doubted the ability of the Sanchez family disgrace to keep her mouth shut, but even I knew better than to be careless with such sensitive information. It wasn’t as if I was one to engage in idle gossip like other noblewomen either. “Rest assured, Your Majesty, not a word of this will leave my lips until the empire makes their official announcement,” I reassured him.
“Carolina can be trusted to keep a secret,” my father added. “It’s your general lack of reticence, Your Majesty, that concerns me. A bit of wine and you spill more secrets than a town crier. You shall, of course, be abstaining from drink until their engagement is public.”
“I-I’ll do no such thing!” His Majesty took my father’s unexpected decree rather less than gracefully. “No! Please! Anything but that!” he pleaded, clutching at my father, his eyes shimmering with mock tears. Despite their ostensible difference in rank, I couldn’t help but wonder who truly held the reins in this relationship. It suddenly dawned on me exactly why the king’s notorious impulsive streak had never caused as many problems as one might expect.
“Your father is unbelievable,” His Majesty whined, turning a puppylike gaze upon me. “Never have I ever dealt with anybody so unyielding! It must have been tough for you too, being raised by this stubborn old coot.” In his theatrical moment of vulnerability, this whimsical monarch looked to me for solace. For all that I knew that this was (at least half) in jest, the moment made him suddenly feel more human, more relatable as he desperately sought an ally in his playful misery.
“I won’t deny that it hasn’t always been the easiest thing to be his daughter,” I conceded. “But I’ve always trusted Father’s wisdom. When he acts, he always does so with an eye to the greater health of the kingdom as a whole, and for that, I deeply respect him.”
“Carolina...” It was not His Majesty who whispered my name, but the man we were discussing. My father’s visage, one I’d always considered to be quite youthful for his age, suddenly crinkled, betraying an expression that wasn’t quite joy, wasn’t quite anger, but one more akin to...some strongly suppressed emotion that I could not name.
As I stood there perplexed, wondering how to interpret my father’s strange aspect, the king, clearly feeling as if he’d transformed into a third wheel, suddenly spoke. “Well, I think this is my cue to exit. I’m not so obtuse a man as to not know when I’m intruding on a touching father-daughter moment.” His Majesty seemed simultaneously peeved and oddly pleased about something as he stepped into the waiting carriage. He signaled the coachman to depart as he closed the window curtains, but almost immediately, he popped his head back out. “Raymond, a word to the wise, from one friend to another. If you’ve ever considered being direct, now is the time. Speaking with her won’t be as straightforward once she’s been sent to the empire.” He flashed a sly wink and, as if on cue, the carriage began to move.
My father made a soft click of disapproval, perhaps begrudging the king for stealing the final word.
Being direct? About what? From the king’s tone, it seemed he was alluding to something concerning me. “U-Um, Father, what did His Majesty mean?”
He brushed off my question. “It’s nothing important. Disregard it.”
“But Fath—” My protest was interrupted by a sudden sneeze, a stark reminder of the evening chill’s assault upon the lightweight fabric of my dress. I shivered slightly, rubbing my arms for warmth. Although spring had arrived, the nights yet retained winter’s bite.
“You must be freezing in that gown. Here.” A cozy weight settled on my shoulders: my father’s cloak, still warm from his body. It provided more comfort than just its heat; it enveloped me in his affection and concern. “Thank you, Father.”