Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEO
S tacks of papers lie spread out before me, their edges fraying from overuse, the ink smudged from my hands brushing over them repeatedly. Today, I’ve refused to let the piles gather more dust. Instead, I’ve combed through each document, hoping to make some sense of the kingdom’s state. For too long, I’ve ignored my role as king—partly because of my doubts about being worthy of this crown, and partly because I’ve felt buried alive under it all.
Jerome, always reliable, was by my side the entire day, guiding me through the mess I’ve neglected. That is, until Estee called him away.
The way he smiled after speaking with her made me wonder what was going on, but he said it might be more impactful if I waited to find out until everything was done.
I can’t afford to trust easily, not with everything that’s happened, but something in me desperately wants to hope—to believe that Estee has a plan beyond just biding her time until she leaves. I’ve checked in with Jerome every hour to see if there’s anything I can do to help, but he always brushes me off, insisting things are “well in hand.”
The thought that this could all come tumbling down around me hasn’t been far from my mind. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t felt his presence in over a day now. I know he’s never truly gone and always watching. That’s probably his favorite way to torture me, just keeping me on edge.
There has to be a way to assure my mother’s safety and take my life back. I know there’s a solution somewhere. I just haven’t looked hard enough. King Asher would likely be my best ally, especially with Estee being my mate, but I don’t want either of them to think I’m using her for my own gain. I didn’t know she would be my mate before she arrived, but I know how it will look considering our bond is still only one-sided.
Gods, if only I could go back…
“Your Majesty.” Jerome’s joyful voice is a welcome disruption in my mind. “You may want to come to the dining hall now.”
I glance at the clock. “Dinner isn’t supposed to be for another hour.”
“Yes, Sire, but Estee and her guests were hungry, and I think it would mean a lot if you joined them instead of waiting.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Though I do wonder who her guests are, I don’t take the time to ask as I grab my suitcoat from the closet in my office. I head out the door and close it securely before making my way down the hallway.
The dining hall is on the second floor and one of my favorite rooms in the entire castle. The ceiling has open beams, taken from an old ship and recreating its base, only upside down. When I first moved in here, I used to spend hours in the hall, looking up and pretending I was anywhere else. Someone else.
Nearing the room, I pause, taking in the sound of laughter ricocheting off the walls that have felt so desolate for far too long. I almost don’t recognize it. Warmth floods my chest, and before I know it, I’m striding forward again, eager to find out what’s caused this unexpected spark of life.
When I shove the door open with a bit too much enthusiasm, the heavy oak crashes against the wall, the boom reverberating through the room like a crack of thunder.
The sound shatters the joy in an instant. Small bodies scatter and yelp, and before I can register what I’ve done, the room is plunged into fearful silence. Estee turns, and her glare hits me like a blade. Her fury is a palpable thing—radiant and furious, as if I’ve just burned down everything she’s built.
“What is your problem?” she snarls through gritted teeth.
Beside her, a dark-haired woman—Drea, I assume—drops to her knees to comfort the frightened children, who’ve hidden under the table like trembling pups. I feel like a giant stomping through their world, bringing only terror with me. Jerome enters from the side door, his face stricken.
“Your Majesty?” His voice is calm, but I can hear the question underlying it. What do you want me to do?
I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I was just?—”
“You were just leaving,” Estee hisses, closing the distance between us in a blink, her eyes burning with rage. “I promised these children they would be safe here. That means no slamming doors, no yelling, and no pissing me off. Do you understand?”
“No.” I shake my head, tired of her believing the worst about me. “I’m sorry I accidentally slammed the door open, but I’m not leaving so you’re going to need to find a way to be okay with that.”
I move past her and walk toward the sound of the whispering children. Estee’s wrath sears into me, but I ignore her. She needs to see I’m not the monster she’s conjured in her head.
Drea backs up as I bend down to pull the tablecloth back. I kneel with a wide smile on my face before greeting each of them. “Hello.”
Three young faces stare back at me. Two girls and one boy. The eldest is a teenager and the youngest maybe five or six. They’re freshly cleaned and dressed well. Yet, I have no clue where they came from.
The boy with his thumb in his mouth burrows further behind the teenager, who watches me with hesitant eyes as she says, “Princess Estee invited us here.”
“And I’m glad she did,” I say earnestly, keeping my tone soft and light. “This big castle needs more people in it, don’t you think?”
Before any of them can answer or I can apologize for scaring them, something warm and mushy hits me in the back of the head. I reach back and find mashed potatoes embedded in my hair.
The youngest, a little girl with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, peeks out from behind the teenager, giggling nervously. I raise a brow at her. “Would you like some?”
She shakes her head frantically as her laughter spills out.
Glancing behind me, Estee stands not too far away, one arm crossed over her stomach and the other holding her potato-covered fingers up, an unmistakable smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.
An idea to turn this situation around begins to take root as I put my attention back on the children. “How about you help me get Princess Estee back?”
The boy brightens and sits up. “I’m on your team!”
The teenage girl, who hasn’t said anything until now, speaks up finally. “I have pretty good aim.”
That’s all the encouragement I need. “Let’s do this.”
I catch the young boy as he dives for me then slip out from under the table with the small girl right behind us. When I stand, Estee and her friend Drea are shaking their heads.
“You don’t want to do this,” Estee says.
“I’m just finishing what you started, Starlight.” I grab a handful of noodles and throw them at the two women just as the teenager stands up from under the table. Spaghetti sticks to her hair and her eyes widen at me then she runs to join the other ladies.
Estee finally cracks a smile.
I take the two littlest kids with me, motioning for them to gather ammunition—brownies, mashed potatoes, and various bits of food on the table. “Get ready. We have to get them before they attack us!”
With our arms full, the three of us set up on the other side of the table, moving chairs to act as a wall at our backs.
“I’m Benji,” the boy says, bringing one of the treats to his mouth.
“Well, Benji. That’s our ammunition you’re eating.” I chuckle. “Are you going to let them overpower us for a bit of dessert or trust that I’ll have all this food replaced once we’ve won?”
He shrugs and makes me laugh harder as he replies, “A little of both.”
“I’m Addie,” the blonde girl adds, filling her hands with dinner rolls.
“Nice to meet you both,” I tell them with a friendly grin. “Now, let’s show them why they shouldn’t mess with us.”
Both kids giggle, and the battle begins.
A well-aimed blob of pudding thrown by one of the kids splatters across Drea’s cheek. She freezes for a moment, stunned, before laughing out loud. “Oh, it’s on now!”
I throw a handful of shredded cheese at Estee, who deftly ducks out of the way, only to have them land on a snarling Drea. Estee’s face lights up in surprise, and for the first time since meeting her, her defenses start falling away.
Estee laughs alongside the teenager—a genuine, bright sound—and it makes my heart swell. As much as I want to lose myself in that joy, I push it aside to focus on later and go back to the task at hand: getting them covered in as much food as possible.
“More ammo!” I yell to Benji, who’s now tossing brownies across the room like they’re throwing stars, while Addie, still giggling uncontrollably, flings spoonfuls of peas toward anyone who steps into her path.
The dining hall erupts into chaos—laughter echoing against the wooden beams of the ceiling, the sounds of children shrieking in delight, and the continuous barrage of food flying across the table.
Estee narrows her eyes at me playfully. “You think you’re winning, don’t you, Your Majesty ?” she taunts, holding a serving ladle like a catapult, ready to launch a glob of gravy at me.
“I think I’m doing pretty well,” I reply, dodging the incoming food, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. It feels good to be in this moment—carefree, not thinking about my duties or the burdens weighing on me. Just living.
Estee, with an expression of mock determination, makes her way around the table. “You’re going down!” she shouts, launching her gravy-loaded spoon at me.
I try to duck, but I stumble into one of the chairs, allowing the thick, brown liquid to catch me square in the chest. The warm goo slides down my shirt, and I can’t help but chuckle. “You’ll pay for that.” I scoop up custard and fling it toward her.
It lands in her hair, making a mess of the dark strands. Estee gasps, her eyes wide, before she bursts into laughter. And it’s beautiful—carefree and genuine, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle at the edges and lights up her entire face.
The children are howling with their own giggles, pelting whatever food they can find, and Drea throws herself deeper into the fray, smearing mashed potatoes onto Benji’s cheek while dodging stray splatters of sauce.
The madness grows, and soon, the dining hall is a battlefield of laughter-filled war calls and feigned vengeance—a far cry from the solemn, silent place it usually is.
Estee locks eyes with me, still grinning, the custard now dripping down her face. And for just a moment, I let myself hope. That this lightness, this joy can stay—that she might stay.
“Truce!” I call out, holding my hands up in surrender, as I take in the mess we’ve made. “Truce before there’s nothing left to eat!”
Estee raises a brow, looks down at the remains of the food then back at me. “Hmm,” she says, smirking as she wipes her dirtied hands on her already ruined clothes. “But only because I’m starving.”
Drea stands, brushing noodles from her dress, and the children come out from behind the chairs, snickering as they take in the state of everyone and everything. I step forward, offering Estee a hand to shake on our momentary peace.
When she takes it, warmth spreads through me—a hint of the connection that, for so long, I didn’t believe I would ever have. However fleeting it is, it’s real and worth fighting for.
And that’s enough. For now.