The Fallen Prince

10

Rowan's POV:

I don't know why I didn't try to contradict the words the words that Ciaran said... he is so perfect and he talked horribly about himself... and I did not even try to stop him! I just let him leave... even though I could see how upset and ashamed he was...

Gods, I can tell he is attracted to me, I know he likes me, but I am so afraid. What if I will not be enough to satisfy him? What if he decides that I do not give him enough time between the work I will have to do and him?

I do not want to fail such a perfect man who deserves the entire universe!

Maybe I should speak with my father... and maybe I should hire someone to murder Tyla.

No, this is not Tyla's fault. They just pointed out the things I wanted to repress about myself, the care I have for Ciaran... and I wanted to deny it.

I get up and ignore the breakfast made for me and make my way to my father's room, where he spends the morning working on plans and ideas for how to finally defeat the king and queen of Vayl.

He is sitting at his desk when I walk into the room, and he turns to see me with a tired smile on his face. It falls when he sees how upset I am.

"Rowan, you look horrible," he says as I slink in and sit down on the bed. "Where is Ciaran?"

I shrug. "I am not sure. He is in another room."

"I thought he was sleeping with you."

"He was, until he said he wanted his own room."

Father raises an eyebrow and gives me a judgmental look. "I don't know that boy very well, but I do know he is not outspoken and would not ask for his own room unless he had a very good reason to speak up."

"Well, he did," I say plainly, crossing my arms because I know he is trying to pull information from me. "I think that he was uncomfortable."

My father doesn't say anything, watching me crawl up his bed like I did when I was younger and grab my deceased father's favorite blanket from where it lays on the bed. It doesn't really smell like him anymore, but there is a level of comfort that comes from the blanket. It feels like he is still here, hugging me.

"How did you know that father was the one for you?" I ask once I have wrapped myself up in the blanket. "Did it take you long to know?"

Father laughs. "You have never asked to hear this story before," he tells me, and I nod, staying silent so he can tell it. "Well, my parents held a ball so I could find a partner, as they did not care whether or not I married a man or a woman. When the ball started and the people began to enter, I disguised myself as a normal guest and had my mother help me to change my hair and put make up on me so that I didn't look like the prince. I wanted to find someone who was attracted to me for who I am, not because I was a prince.

"Your father... he walked in an hour late, because he was not the best with timing, but I swear that my heart stopped when I first saw him. It was something where I knew in my heart that I needed to meet him and get to know him, and we spent the whole night side by side. He found out I was the prince in minutes, and he made sure I knew that he knew. He was very stubborn and blunt, and he certainly made sure that I knew he wanted to be in a committed relationship and that he was not going to be a person on the side only for sex."

My deceased father was always stubborn and had a lot of mental strength; he made sure that I knew when I was young that he was in charge. Even if my alive father was born to be the prince and king, my deceased father was the one that made sure he was in charge and often was looked up to in a different way that my other father.