Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
T he next day, I do my best to work out my angst at the rehab center in the afternoon.
I run flat out on the treadmill till I’m light-headed.
When I step off, I rest my hands on my thighs, leaning forward as I gasp for air.
My trainer brings me a towel, and I wipe my face.
My muscles ache with the earlier weight training, and my legs burn from running.
We repeat yet another set of cognitive exercises before I lie down for the massage portion of the day’s treatment, working on my neck and shoulders.
After twenty minutes, I’m up and tugging on a grey hoodie track jacket over my sleeveless top, shivering.
I pull on a wool hat, thank the receptionist at the front desk, and head out to the waiting car with my training bag and water bottle.
By the time I’m back to the palace, I’m ready for a shower. Back in my room, I set down my bag and start to find a fresh change of clothes when there’s a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I call as I step out of my runners.
My father opens the door. I’m startled to see him because he so rarely comes to my room.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, frowning. I put my bag down on my bed.
“Everything’s fine. I heard you were back, and I wanted to catch you before my evening’s engagement.”
“Oh?” I ask warily. We missed each other so far today, after last night’s premiere.
“Yes.” The King enters. “How was the treatment session today?”
“Fine.” I wait patiently for whatever it is that he wants. I know his tells, after all. There’s a worn—yet persistent—air about him.
“I want to talk to you about Renaissance Man .” He lifts an eyebrow at me.
“What about it?” I try lightly. I rub the back of my neck.
“I thought that was a lovely tribute to your mother, and I wanted to let you know.”
Whatever I expected, it wasn’t that. I redden. “I tried.”
“It was very moving. And I’m not the only one moved. There has been discussion of your performance.”
I haven’t asked who’s discussing me or if he’s trawling online forums since no good will come of that line of conversation or knowledge. But I chew my bottom lip, considering him with some trepidation.
“And I want to let you know I miss your mother too. We don’t speak of her as often as we should.”
My mouth opens and shuts again. “We don’t speak of her at all, actually.”
He inclines his head in acknowledgment. “I think of her often, but you’re right: we do not discuss her as we should.”
I’m quiet, twisting my signet ring. “Sometimes,” I say quietly, “it feels like she was the only one advocating for me.”
Startled, my father looks hurt. “I advocate for you, son.”
“Not in the same way.”
“I want to protect you. I do what I think is in your best interest?—”
“I believe you believe that, but maybe what you think is in my best interest isn’t actually the right thing for me, Father.”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
I draw a deep breath, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. At this point, I feel like I don’t have anything left to lose because I’ve lost what’s mattered. And I need to find a way forward. “Like signing me up to the show without my consent, for starters.”
My father has the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Well, I knew you would have never agreed, but look how successful it’s been already?—”
“The point being, here, I wouldn’t have agreed.” I hold his gaze steadily. “Because, again, what I want doesn’t seem to matter in your vision of this family.”
He starts to protest.
I shake my head. “I’m a private person. Everyone says I’m shy. But you know what? I’m not, actually. The truth is, I’m someone living with serious depression. I’m a person with a lingering concussion. I’m also a person who’s lonely, and shut down, because you taught me to be like that.”
“Sorry?”
I shake my head in frustration. “Don’t you see?
It all goes back to Mum dying. That’s when everything turned.
When you were gone too. And I was starting to come into myself, realizing that I was attracted to men.
And when I kissed Gav and you sent me away to boarding school as punishment, I learned then what I wanted didn’t matter.
Then, I lost you as well as Mum from my life when I needed you most. And you know what?
Sending me away didn’t make me any less gay.
No matter what you think. I was simply a lot more secretive about it. ”
For once, Father’s silent.
Emboldened, I shake my head slowly. “An all-boys boarding school, believe me, leads to all sorts of homoerotic experiences. Some punishment for being gay. It only confirmed who I was. And that to you, who I was wasn’t at all acceptable.
And you continue to deny that I’m gay and want me to marry a woman and carry on the Windsor line?—”
“It’s your duty. And I wasn’t punishing you—it’s our tradition?—”
“As I was saying, it’s not about what I want.
And before you go off on duties and responsibilities and our privilege, I understand all of that.
I live it every day. But now? I don’t know where to go from here.
I don’t know how long it will take for me to get over my injury, if I can.
Or feel well enough again to resume my duties like before.
When I try to read for longer than five minutes, words blur, and I tire quickly.
Headaches still come and go. And flashbacks from the accident—my therapist tells me it’s trauma, that it’s to be expected. ”
We’re quiet for a long moment, regarding each other.
“But you know what else is trauma? Anne and I not talking about our dead mother with you. Not acknowledging who I am, or what I want, or making me feel I have choices.”
“What are you saying?” My father looks unhappily at me.
“Auggie, I’ve tried my very best for you, believe me.
And I’m sorry you can’t see that. Without your mother, when she died, I was lost too.
I’m very sorry I wasn’t the father you needed me to be, then and now.
I’ve always done my best to watch out for you, to give you the skills you need to be a wonderful king, which I know you will be?—”
“If I’m miserable, what’s it all for? Who benefits?” I search his eyes, looking for any shred of understanding that might reveal itself if I look hard enough, and I’m leading my own search and rescue expedition. I want an honest answer, if it even exists.
“It’s all for the kingdom, my son. For the people. Our calling is greater than you or me or our personal desires.”
I sigh. “I know, but I also need to live too. I’m not a puppet. Maybe you can live like this. But I can’t. Not anymore.”
“What are you telling me, son? What about the lovely young woman you were seeing?” My father’s eyebrows knit together. He solemnly contemplates me.
I spread my hands wide. “Laura, as lovely as she is, she’s not the right one for me. Or any other woman, for that matter, before you come up with a list of names. If you haven’t done already.” I hold his gaze. “Because I am, and will continue to be, attracted to men.”
He frowns at me. “Auggie. Please. Be reasonable.”
I roll my eyes. “Reason doesn’t have anything to do with this. It has to do with who I am and who I’m attracted to. Yes, everything would be a lot easier if I was straight, but I’m not. And… I want the freedom to live my life. Like anyone else has. Anyone else in the kingdom can be gay but me.”
“I’ll—I’ll disown you.”
I lift my jaw. “You won’t. You can’t. It’s impossible. Your firstborn is set to rule, whether you like or not. Gay or not, too.”
“You’re not abdicating.” His fists tighten.
“I didn’t say anything about abdicating.
Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I won’t marry.
I don’t know.” If being with Thomas has taught me anything, I realize belatedly, it’s that I do have choices.
And I don’t have to have all the answers to all the problems to have a chance at love in my life.
Like everyone else in the kingdom, I have a right to be happy too.
And for a short time, I was. And if that’s what I’ve learned from being with Thomas, even briefly, it’s broadened my world and my place in it.
And I can find my way to some kind of courage, even without answers.
“Maybe you could have a marriage of convenience,” the King suggests delicately. “It’s not the first time?—”
“No.” I give him a hard look.
My face is hot. Everything’s too close all of a sudden. The air’s too still. “I’m not living a lie to convenience you.”
He gives me a stern look. “You need biological heirs, my son. From wedlock. It’s important.”
I shake my head, exhausted. The room reels. Weary, I rub my eyes, taking a moment for the floor to steady itself. “Not today. Also, news flash: we don’t live in medieval times anymore. I need a shower. And a nap.”
He looks at me with concern, turning to leave, but then he stops.
He looks back at me, something vulnerable in his posture, and in his eyes.
“Please know I love you. Nearly losing you this summer was utterly terrifying. And I’m very sorry your recovery is difficult.
I blame myself, so you know, about your accident.
About the decision and risk to send you on the program.
About the disaster we had and how it nearly was worse. ”
I’m quiet, gazing at him. It’s good to hear an acknowledgment, at least.
“And I’m grateful you’re here. Even if we don’t agree on everything.”
Nodding, I sit on the edge of the bed as the room starts to list dangerously.
His expression softens slightly. “I’ll leave you to rest. But please know I am open to discussing your mother at any time. We may be very different, in who we are and our outlook, but we can always agree on her.”
It’s a start, at least. “Okay. I’d like that. Please.”
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he nods.