Virgin Bride(151)
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Sure.”
“Why did you want me to stay? I don’t think you actually want me to marry the king.”
He laughed. “No, I don’t.”
“So why did you want us to stay?”
“Honestly, honey, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. This castle, these people, we’ll never have any of this again. I wanted you to experience it before we went back home.”
I nodded. “I get that. But still, what if I did marry him?”
He laughed, shrugging. “Well, I guess then you’d be the queen.”
“You’d be okay with that?”
“I’d be okay with anything you wanted to do, Bryce,” he said.
I believed him, but still I couldn’t imagine he didn’t have any reservations about entering into the royal family of a country we knew nothing about.
We walked through the twisting hallways, looking around at all the expensive paintings and sculptures. Dad pointed out some paintings he recognized, which were apparently pretty famous.
I couldn’t help but have a sudden sense of vertigo in that hallway. There I was, a completely normal, regular girl, walking through a castle full of famous paintings. It was so incredibly strange that I could barely stand it.
“Dad,” I said after a while of wandering, “how do you feel about this monarchy thing?”
“It’s different,” he said.
“Yeah, but, wasn’t the whole point of America to get rid of the British monarchy?”
He laughed. “Basically, but I think it was more about being annoyed over taxation without representation.”
“But aren’t people in a democracy freer?”
“Maybe,” he said, “and maybe not. People have been debating this for thousands of years, honey. This country has been very stable for a very long time under the monarchy. Who’s to say that’s a bad thing?”
I nodded. That made sense to me, but still. I had been conditioned to love democracy; the whole idea of a king seemed so totally off to me.
“I don’t know,” I said finally. “I can’t imagine being the queen.”
“Then don’t be,” Dad said. “Or, just imagine being Trip’s wife. That’s more important. If you like the guy, maybe it’s worth pursuing. If you don’t, well, that’s okay. At least we got an awesome vacation out of all this.”
I sighed, shaking my head. He wasn’t helping all that much. “At least Lucy would love it if I married him.”
“Look, forget about Lucy and forget about politics.” Dad stopped and faced me. He put on his serious face, the expression he saved for only important conversations. “This is about your future, kid. This is about you and Trip and nothing else. Forget about monarchies and democracies and all that stuff; it just doesn’t matter. Focus on you and Trip.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. That makes sense.”
He gave me a stupid grin. “Does it feel weird taking love advice from your father?”
“Oh, shut up,” I said, laughing, as we began to walk again. “There’s no love here.”
“Whatever you say.”
As we went along the hallways, I had to admit that I did feel a little better. Dad was right. In the end, whatever I decided to do was between me and Trip. It wasn’t about politics. It was about love.
We finally finished our walk after having to ask directions a few times. Dad went back to his room and I slipped back into mine, feeling tired but better. It was still early and I had most of the day ahead of me.
As I walked into my room, I stopped and noticed something. The servants must have come in and cleaned, because everything had been tidied up. There was also a black box on the bedspread.
I walked over and opened it. Inside was a brand new bikini plus a note.
“Hope I didn’t ruin the last one. Trip.”
I smiled to myself, shaking my head. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.
“Thanks for the bikini. I’m wearing it right now.”
“Hold that thought,” he answered almost right away. “I’m coming to you.”
“Don’t bother. Already got changed. How’s the country?”
“It’s going. I want to show you something.”
I bit my lip. “What is it this time? Going to tear all my clothes off and throw them off the battlements?”
“Yes, if you’d like.”
“No, thanks.”
“I’ll come get you soon. Wait for me.”
“Okay.”
I tossed my phone aside and lay back in bed. I had nothing better to do, and besides, hanging out with Trip sounded pretty good.
My dad was right. Maybe it was weird to talk to him about it, but I had nobody else. In the end, this was about me and Trip as people, not about politics.