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“Well, my advice—did you want my advice?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Smart boy. My advice is to spend some time with her. Get to know present-day Hettie, and see how much she’s changed from past Hettie. Because you might be still in love with past Hettie, but you don’t know a thing about present-day Hettie.”
That makes sense. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Because if you feel differently about this new Hettie, you’ve got to let her go.”
“What if she takes Tema back to BritishColumbia?”
“You’re a father now, and we’ll figure that out. We are pretty fortunate that you can spend the time and money travelling back and forth. It’s not the most convenient, but we’d make it work because that little girl is a princess of Laandia.”
“Can you make her stay?” I ask hopefully, because that would make it so much easier.
But Dad laughs. “I can’t even make my own children stay, so no, I won’t do that. But we’ll make it work somehow. Your priority is to figure yourself out. Why did she leave in the first place?”
“Mom… I was…” I can’t bring myself to say anymore.
I can’t tell him it’s my fault.
“Broken-hearted,” he offers. “Yeah. We all were. And young, and not mature enough to give Hettie what she needed. And I bet you didn’t let her give you what you needed.”
“Her family,” I begin, not sure how to broach the sensitive topic.
“I know her family. But you don’t marry a person’s family.”
“You kind of do. In our case you do.”
“That is true. Why don’t you decide what you want to do? Or let Hettie decide. This may be a moot point. Time has gone by and you might not feel the same about her.”
I’m pretty sure I do.
17
Hettie
Spencer escorts us tobreakfast before he leaves for his office in town. I’m not sure if he lives in the castle or just stayed the night. And if he just stayed the night, exactlywherehe stayed.
Abigail certainly seems to be in a good mood this morning, but I don’t ask for details. If there’s something between her and Spencer—something more than the crush she confessed to him last night—then I will have to factor that in any decision I make about the future.
After we eat—after Tema inhales possibly more food than she’s ever eaten at one time, because she insists on sampling everything in the dining room, including a tiny sip of Abigail’s coffee—we go back to our room.
I want Tema to take some time to finish a few of the math activities that her teacher sent with her. She’s on March break, but I wasn’t sure how long we would be away. Tema loves school, loves her teacher, and homework has always proven to be a great way to keep her busy.
Especially while we’re in the castle and I’m not sure what we’re allowed to do or where we’re allowed to go. And I don’t want to leave this morning because Bo is talking to his father and I want to be around when he’s finished.
Tema is at the table, the scratch of her pencil and her muttered comments loud in the quiet room, and I sit on the couch in front of the roaring fire. “It’s a good room to have,” Abigail surmises, flopping down beside me. “Spence said this is where Lady Camille stayed before she married Odin.”
“It seems kind of surreal that I’m in the same room that a princess stayed in.”
“It shouldn’t be surreal at all,” Abigail gives me a knowing look.
Yes, I am the mother of a princess now—or at least I assume Tema will be given a royal title, given how taken Bo seems to be with her—but I don’t want to talk about that now because at this very moment, Bo is telling his father all about what we did eight years ago, and what I did nine months later. Abigail was supposed to distract me, which she is not doing well with her knowing looks.
I’d be better off finishing the bottle of wine Spencer left last night. Wouldn’t that make it all better, me showing up to a meeting with the king with wine on my breath?
Will I even be meeting the king?