Page 20 of Prince Material (The Prince Pact #2)

“I watched him disappear under the water.” The words felt like they were being torn from somewhere deep inside me. “He died saving me. And sometimes I wonder… if I hadn’t slipped, if I hadn’t been so clumsy, he wouldn’t have had to come back for me…”

“Stop.” Floris’s voice was gentle but firm. “You can’t think like that.”

“Can’t I?” I turned to look at him finally, seeing nothing but understanding in his green eyes. “He was an engineer, Floris. He could’ve done so much good, helped so many people. Instead, he died saving one scared kid who couldn’t even climb a roof properly.”

“A four-year-old kid, who must’ve been terrified. A kid who grew up to want to prevent other families from going through the same thing.” His hand squeezed mine. “Who’s brilliant and dedicated and working so hard to make a difference.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” The question that had haunted me for years finally spilled out. “What if I can’t live up to his sacrifice?”

“Oh, Orson.” Before I could react, Floris pulled me into a tight hug. I stiffened for a moment, then melted into it, letting his warmth seep into all the cold places inside me. “You don’t have to earn the right to be alive.”

“But he died saving me.” The words felt like they were being torn from somewhere deep inside. “He could’ve stayed on the roof with Tia, but he came back for me. And now…”

“Now you feel like you have to live up to that sacrifice.” Floris squeezed my hand. “Like you have to be perfect to justify his choice.”

I looked up then, meeting his eyes. “How did you…?”

“Because I understand what it’s like to feel the weight of someone else’s expectations.

To think you have to be perfect to be worthy of what they gave up for you.

” His thumb traced circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm.

“But Orson, your dad didn’t save you so you could spend your life trying to prove you deserved it.

He saved you because he loved you. Any parent worth a damn would choose their kid’s life over their own.

That’s the whole essence of being a parent, isn’t it? ”

“The last thing he said was, ‘It’ll be okay, buddy.’” I swallowed hard. “And I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried so hard to be worthy of what he did.”

“Orson.” Floris’s voice was impossibly gentle. “You were four years old. You didn’t need to be worthy. You were his son. That was enough.”

“But I have to make it mean something,” I whispered into his shoulder. “His death has to have a purpose.”

“It did.” Floris pulled back enough to look at me, his hands warm on my shoulders. “It meant you lived. You grew up. You became this amazing person who cares so deeply about helping others. That’s more than enough.”

I blinked hard against sudden tears. “I miss him. And I’m scared of losing anyone else. When Mom collapsed, all I could think was ‘not again.’”

“I know.” His voice was soft, understanding. “Is that why you push yourself so hard? Why you won’t let yourself have anything beyond your studies?”

The question hit too close to home. “I can’t afford distractions. If I mess up, if I make the wrong choice…”

“Then you learn from it and try again.” His hands moved to frame my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You’re allowed to live , Orson. To make mistakes.

To want things beyond honoring your father’s memory.

But for what it’s worth, I think your dad would be proud of you.

Not because you’re perfect, but because you’re you.

Because you care so much about helping others that you’re willing to give up your own dreams to do it. ”

I stiffened. “What do you mean? ”

“I’ve seen how you light up when you talk about historical architecture and restoration. That’s your passion, not modern civil engineering.” He leaned forward slightly. “But you’re pushing yourself into a different path because you think that’s what you need to do to honor your dad’s sacrifice.”

“I… That’s not…” But the protest died in my throat because he was right. Of course he was right. “Civil engineering saves lives.”

“So does preserving historical buildings properly. Making sure they’re structurally sound while maintaining their character.

” His voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t have to save lives the way he did or how you think you should.

Sometimes, the best way to honor someone’s memory is to live authentically, to be true to who you are. ”

I stared at him, this prince who somehow saw right through all my carefully constructed walls. “When did you get so wise?”

His smile was soft, real. “I’m full of surprises. Also, probably the sugar high from those beignets. They were seriously amazing.”

I laughed despite myself, and something in my chest loosened slightly. Leave it to Floris to lighten the mood with a joke.

“Want to see more of the Quarter?” I offered. “There’s this amazing historical house museum that shows the original Spanish colonial architecture…”

His face lit up. “Lead the way.”

As we walked through the familiar streets, Floris asked intelligent questions about the architecture, genuinely interested in the historical details I usually kept to myself. And if our shoulders brushed more often than strictly necessary, well, that was because of the crowded sidewalks.

The words he had spoken settled somewhere deep inside me, warm and healing. Maybe he was right. Maybe being alive, being me, was enough.

Maybe.