I’ve begun rubbing my hands together for warmth when Owen stops walking, shrugs out of his sturdy olive green jacket, and passes it to me.
“Here. Put it on.”
My throat clogs up. He’s always taking care of me — even when he’s pissed.
“Thanks,” I murmur, shoving my arms through the holes. Made of heavy canvas-like material, the coat is practically the length of a dress on my petite frame, its sleeves hanging down far past my hands. He can’t quite hide the twitching of his lips when he sees how ridiculous I look wearing it.
“Owen—”
His lips flatten into a frown again. “Don’t.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Of course I do. I’ve known you your whole damn life.” He sighs deeply. “You’re going to try to justify why this is the right decision for you, in the long run. Because you’ve no doubt already made a list of pros and cons, and rehearsed all your little talking points in your bathroom mirror…”
My cheeks flame. He reallydoesknow me.
“But I’m not interested in any of that fake bullshit, Emilia. I’m your best friend. I want the truth.”
“I told you the truth! I’d never lie to you, you know that.”
“Then don’t try to pass off thisprincess trial periodas an elaborate plan to abdicate the throne.” He shakes his head. “If that were the case, you’d walk out those front gates with me right now and never look back.”
“Owen, it’s not that simple…”
“Itisthat simple.” His eyes are undeniably sad. “But we both know you won’t. Because there’s a part of you thatwantsto be here. A part of you that needs to know what it would be like to be his daughter. To wear that crown. To live the life you always should’ve had.”
I lock my jaw, not contradicting him. I can’t.
We don’t lie to each other.
“You can tell yourself you’re only doing this so he’ll pay your mortgage, so you can keep the house you grew up in and still maintain your anonymity… but I know there’s a part of you that’s curious what it would be like, living in places like this instead.” He jerks his thumb back toward the Lockwood Estate. “Servants at your beck and call. A bonafide princess, right out of a fairy tale.”
“And what if Iamcurious?” I snap defensively, growing tired of his judgmental tone. “Is that such a crime?”
“It is if it means selling your soul to these people!”
“These people? You mean mybiological father?”
“Yeah, the one who never wanted jack shit to do with you until yesterday? I recall him pretty well,” he mutters. “Really pathetic to see you fold like a fucking lawn chair the first second he gives you any attention at all.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “Not all of us were raised in a family like yours, Owen. Perfect parents, perfect house, perfect sisters. Some of us have some unresolved issues that,gee, it might be nice to deal with when finally given the chance. I thought you, of all people, would understand that. Maybe I was wrong.”
“You think I don’t know you have baggage? I’m the one who’s been hauling it around for you fortwenty fucking years!”
He roars the words at the top of his lungs, so loud a flock of birds takes flight from a nearby tree, disturbed from their roosts by the sound. So loud, I’m genuinely surprised it doesn’t bring the guards running, guns drawn.
“Owen—” My voice cracks as a tear races down my cheek. I honestly can’t believe he just said that to me. Or, more accurately,screamedthat at me. In all our years of friendship, he’s never acted this way. I can’t help wondering if this reaction is about more than just me getting to know my father.
His furious expression crumbles a bit when he sees my tears.
“I’m sorry,” he grits out after a moment, his anger tightly in check. “I didn’t mean to yell, Ems.”
I nod stiffly.
“I just…” He takes a step closer to me. “I can’t stand by and watch as you’re manipulated into a life you never wanted.”
I’m silent.