Stealing Cinderella(57)

“If?” I choke out.

She offers me a pitiful expression that’s meant to be sympathetic, I’m sure, but it does me little good. That woman is our mother, and we were supposed to have more time.

“Things can change rapidly with this disease,” Astrid says. “Timeframes are only estimations. In my experience, it’s not atypical for something like this to occur out of the blue. It’s not generally a slow transition.”

“Thor.” Calder reaches out for me, but I shrug him off.

I knew this was going to happen, but I’m not ready for it yet. And I’m terrified that I’ll never have another coherent conversation with her. When I walk around the bed and take her hand in mine, she doesn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes are focused on the ceiling, unmoving, until they fall shut and remain that way.

“She’s exhausted and medicated,” Astrid tells me. “I think after some rest, you will have a better visit.”

I don’t want to leave her, but I know she’s right. She needs to rest, and I need to speak with Calder about why our father can’t be fucked to come visit his dying wife.

After we both give her a kiss on the cheek, Calder and I step out into the hall. He drags a hand through his hair, restless energy burning in his eyes.

“First, I want to apologize about Ella,” he says quickly, holding his hand up before I can argue. “I didn’t realize, Thor. I thought I was helping you, but I can see now that I wasn’t. And I need you to know it will never happen again. She’s yours. I get that. I’ll never come between you two, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

When I don’t respond, he reluctantly moves the conversation along. “As far as our father is concerned, there’s something I’ve noticed, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

“What is it?”

His attention drifts down the hall, and he hesitates for a second before gesturing for me to follow. “Maybe it’s better if I just show you.”

He leads the way to our father’s suite, and I follow wordlessly at his side, trying to process the warring emotions in my mind. There are too many to identify, and I feel too much. All I want to do is get drunk. I know it won’t solve anything, but at least I wouldn’t feel like this.

“Is he here?” I ask as Calder turns the knob on the king’s door.

He shakes his head, and I follow him inside. The room is just as I remember it even though I haven’t found an occasion to enter this suite since I lived at the palace many years ago. Everything is still decorated the way my mother preferred it, in shades of white and gold. But in place of my mother’s things, someone else’s belongings have infiltrated. It takes me a minute to notice all of them. The dressing gown draped over the chair. A pair of black heels. A gold necklace on the bedside table.

“What is this?” My heart kicks against my ribs in protest.

“They’re Narcissa’s.” Calder glares at the offending items. “It appears the two of them have become quite close.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I don’t want to believe that he would do this to our mother. Not while she’s dying. But my denial doesn’t make it any less true.

“No.” I grab the necklace the nightstand and hurl it at the wall. “I will not stand for this!”

“Thor.” Calder tries to hold me back as I head for the door. “Think about what you’re doing. He’ll ban you from the palace. You won’t be able to see Mor again.”

What he’s saying makes sense, but I’m not done yet. My fist sails into the wall, leaving a gaping hole as a gift to my father when he returns.

“Feel better?” Calder asks.

“No.”

“I don’t like it either,” he says. “And I don’t trust any of them. But we have to be smart about this.”

“Where are the women now?” I clip out.

“I don’t know. Father called me this morning to tell me about Mor, and he said nothing else other than he wouldn’t be here. He had a luncheon to attend.”

“Of course, he did.”

“What are you going to do?” Calder calls after me as I stalk down the hall.

I leave him to follow as I open the door to my father’s office, moving around the desk and grabbing the remote for the monitors on the wall. Calder shuts the door behind us, watching as I flip through the rooms of the palace. It takes several minutes, but I finally locate the women in the east drawing room. They are having afternoon tea, but from the looks of it, none of them are happy.

I adjust the volume, and Calder and I listen intently to their conversation.

“Quit being so dramatic, Lavinia,” Narcissa chastises her daughter. “It isn’t my fault you’ve done a poor job of winning over the prince.”

“I need more time,” she hisses. “You can’t just barge in and take over.”

“You’re just pitching a fit because she’s going to be queen and not you,” Magnolia sneers.

“Girls.” Narcissa lowers her voice. “What does it matter? We need to keep the big picture in mind. One way or another, we’ll be living in the palace. Either by my hand, or Lavinia’s, if she can ever get the prince to change his mind.”

Magnolia snickers and Lavinia’s face mottles with red as she stands up, tossing her napkin onto the table. “This isn’t over.”