A Prince on Paper Page 78

Nya took a deep breath and fought back tears—not at Naledi’s words, but at the fact that someone had finally said them out loud. Her father had fucked with her head her entire life. It was okay if she sometimes got reeled back in.

“Like what?” Nya asked, voice shaking.

“Like, this bullshit about your mom being some demure, respectable woman,” Ledi said, clearly incensed. “Look, do you know how our moms and Ramatla met?”

“No, actually,” Nya said, sitting on the edge of her bed. Outside the window, snow was starting to fall over the slanted roofs and spires of the old town. “I thought they met in school.”

“Yeah. They met in high school. Apparently your mom noticed Alehk being a jerk to my mom after school one day and threw an apricot at him.”

“What?” Nya sat down on the office chair.

“Yeah. Hit him right upside the head, and hard, because she was the captain of the cricket team.”

“She was?” Nya grabbed a pillow and held it to herself.

“Apparently, she told him he was a bully and basically to go kick rocks, and your dad fell in love,” Ledi said. “From what Ramatla told me, your mother was always outgoing and he’d been totally head over heels because of it.”

Ledi paused. “I’m not excusing him, but even the queen seemed to agree that her death changed him for the worse. So all of this ‘your mom was a meek and traditional woman and would be ashamed’ stuff is bullshit.”

“But . . . he always told me that she was good and respectful and listened when he spoke.” He’d always used her mother’s goodness to contrast whatever she’d done that he’d considered bad. “He told me all the time. All the time.”

The room spun around Nya a little and she sat on the floor again.

“Maybe he thinks that. It’s been thirty years, and maybe he’s completely forgotten what she was like.” Ledi sighed. “Maybe it hurts to remember. But the bottom line is that he’s wrong. Even if he wasn’t wrong, you aren’t your mother. What she was like has nothing to do with who you are now.”

“He completely erased her,” Nya said. “He created this fake version of her just so he could manipulate me.”

It struck her then, the true heinousness of her father’s crimes against her. It wasn’t just that he’d manipulated her, poisoned her, made her think she was weak—he’d stolen her mother from her. He’d turned his wife’s memory into the same fragile, hollow figurine of a saint that he’d wanted to nest his daughter inside of.

Anger surged in her. Nya would shatter that false idol.

“I hope—I hope he does die! I hope he dies alone and that when he passes on, Mother’s spirit denies him and he is forever alone!” She squeezed her eyes shut against her tears, her face frozen in a grimace. Her words were miserable and phlegmy but she wasn’t ashamed because she knew Ledi understood. Ledi was the first person who had reached out a hand through the bars of her cage. And though Nya had grown tired of people asking her if she was okay, Ledi was the first person who had asked and hadn’t simply gone along with her when she said she was fine.

“It’s okay,” Ledi said. “You’ve earned the right to be angry. Just remember this anytime he tries to fuck with you, okay? He’s a damn liar.”

“Yes,” Nya said softly. It was the same thing Lukas had warned her about with Johan, and the same title Johan had proudly claimed.

Johan had pushed her away yesterday with his talk of the dating reality show—like her father, he was an expert at finding the soft spots where even the most glancing blows would hurt like hell. But unlike her father, he seemed determined to please her. To make sure that no one hurt her, including himself.

Still, she would have to be careful. She’d started this with the idea that she was playing a real-life dating simulation game, but it was more than that now. He’d been right about relationships being a battle, and hers was mostly with herself. Could she trust her instincts? Was she just moving from one man who would control her with his lies to another?

She didn’t think so, but part of her own battle was being sure that she didn’t fall into any traps, even if they were ones laid by her own past.

She hurriedly got ready and then left to meet up with Greta, who would be taking her to the artisan village.

When she got to the lobby of the castle, Lukas was there instead. He was dressed in a peacoat over his conventional suit, but his lips had a diamond glint to them.

“Hallo.” He waved a little shyly.

“Hey,” she replied. “Where is Greta?”

“She apparently has to look into some threats? Which is kind of frightening. But I’m to go with you instead, if that’s okay.”

“Are you sure you’ll be safe? If there are threats, maybe we should hold off.” She gave Lukas a measured look. “After all, your brother won’t be there to help this time, though you didn’t seem to appreciate it.”

“I don’t think the threats are physical,” Lukas said. “And besides, we’ll have bodyguards. Also—” he shifted from one foot to another “—I kind of need to get out of the castle. I’ve been pretty much on lockdown since I was brought home from school, and yesterday I couldn’t even leave my wing because of the Arschlocher incident. I go back soon, until the referendum, but I thought it would be nice if we could take this trip today? Together?”

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