52. AMANDA

“I can’t believe he brought you into this!”

Dad looks at me the way he used to when I was in high school and I’d unleash my full teenage fury on him.

“Look here, Amanda,” he says sternly. “Nobody ‘brings me’ into anything. I came on my own, for my own reasons. That clear?”

Damned if he doesn’t make me feel like a kid again, too.

“Yes, sir,” I say. “I just think it was irresponsible of him to take off at the last hour like he did.”

The two of us are in one of the palace’s hundred or so sitting rooms. Dante and I haven’t really spoken since he got back from the States. The children have been eager to see Dad since they heard he was coming back, but I needed to talk to him first.

“Honey, you gotta give the boy the benefit of the doubt. He’s got a lot goin’ on in his head right now.”

“And I don’t?” I snap. Teenage Amanda makes an appearance again.

“I didn’t say that. I know this has been hard on you. But you’re not on the verge of losin’ everything that ever defined who you are. Can’t blame the boy for bein’ distracted.”

He’s right. As usual. Dad has always had a way of cutting to the chase and making me see exactly what the real problem is.

I sigh. “Things have been… not good between us, Dad. We put on a face for the twins, but we’ve been sleeping in separate rooms since the photos came out.”

“I kinda figured that,” he says, wrapping an arm around me. “You got a raw deal, pumpkin, I know that.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, but I think I know the answer.

“Dante told me everything,” he says. “About your marriage, and the decree thing.”

For a moment, I’m furious with Dante for telling him, but just as quickly I’m overcome with relief. I’m so sick of keeping the secret. I feel hot tears in my eyes as I bury my face in Dad’s shoulder.

“It’s all so crazy,” I sob. “Why couldn’t I have found a nice boy back home? I could have stayed and helped you on the ranch and my life would have been normal.”

I feel his shoulder move up and down against my face. Is he – is he laughing?

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry, hon,” he chuckles. “I really am. I know you been through a lot. But sweetie, you were never gonna be normal.”

“Gee, thanks a lot!” I fume.

“I don’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that I always knew your future wasn’t gonna be on the ranch. You went through school on a rocket sled. And the way you used to pause your Disney DVDs to show me all the things the cartoon got wrong about medieval history and royal protocol… yeah, you weren’t gonna have a normal life.”

He’s right, dammit. He’s always right.

“Maybe,” I say. “But I didn’t deserve to end up in this mess.”

“No, you sure didn’t, sweetie. But neither did Dante. And neither did those kids.”

He wraps my hands in his big, warm ones.

“Speakin’ of them, there’s something that’s been weighin’ on Dante that he hasn’t told you about.”

There are probably a lot of things Dante hasn’t talked to me about. I haven’t exactly been receptive the past few weeks.

“What is it?”

“He’s worried that Isabella will get custody of the children if the vote goes against him.”

My heart drops. That never even occurred to me, but now that it does, it’s terrifying.

“I can’t let that happen,” I say. “I’m amazed at how normal Dante managed to be living with such a bizarre family. I don’t even want to think what it would be like for the twins in that kind of a life, especially if Dante isn’t around for them.”

As if on cue, Oriana and Vito come bounding into the room.

“Nonno!” they holler. “You’re back!”

They jump into his lap and he wraps his big bear arms around them, laughing.

“’Course I’m back,” he says. “Somebody has to keep you two brats in line, and I know Amanda here’s not up to it. You got her wrapped around your little fingers.”

“Oh, please,” I say, rolling my eyes and smiling at the kids. “If anyone’s wrapped up, it’s you, you old leather boot.”

Dad holds up Oriana’s hand and tugs at her pinky finger.

“I think she’s fibbin,’” he says. “I wouldn’t fit around that little thing.”

She giggles, but Vito’s face is serious.

“Are you here because of the refern – the fref – the vote tomorrow?” he asks.

“The vote? What vote?”

“Uncle and Amanda said there’s a government thing tomorrow where the people are going to vote.”

“Aw, that’s boring stuff. I was thinkin’ that the three of us should do somethin’ fun tomorrow and then the grown-ups can do that government thing on their own.”

Oriana’s eyes light up. She turns to me: “Can we, Amanda? Please? I don’t want to do government stuff.”

Dad’s always known how to fix things, God love him.

“Sure,” I say. “Then, when our stuff is over with, we’ll come find you and we can all have a late supper. How does that sound?”

“Perfect!” she says.

“Good. Now go find something to do, okay? I need to talk with nonno alone.”

They say their good-byes and scurry back out the way they always do. I marvel at how much energy they have. Then again, even though I’m only twenty-seven, I’ve been feeling a lot older lately.

“I can’t let them end up under Isabella’s thumb,” I say. “I won’t. There’s going to be a live debate tomorrow morning before the polls open. I’m going to tell Dante I want to be there with him for it.”

“That’s my girl,” he says. “But I want you to think about something before you do that.”

“Think about what?”

“I want you to ask yourself why you’re doin’ it.”

“What do you mean, why? I just told you.”

He nods. “For the kids, I heard you. But I want you to really think about that.”

“There’s nothing to think about.”

“Yeah, there is. Honey, do you remember that time when you were little and you tried to get that old cat in the barn to come be your pet?”

Old Duffy. I tried for months to get that smelly old bugger to be a house cat, but he refused. Mom was still alive then; she called Duffy “that damned cat.”

“Of course I do. But what does that have to do with this?”

“You didn’t even like that little bastard,” he says. “He was always hissin’ at you, he stunk to high heaven. Every time you tried to pick him up, he’d just wriggle out of your arms and run away.”

“I still don’t see your point.”

“My point is that you thought he should be an indoor cat because then he’d be safe and warm and always have food to eat. You didn’t even really like him. You didn’t want to pet him or have him sleep on your bed or anything like that. You just thought it was the right thing to do.”

“So?” I’m getting angry now. “It was the right thing to do. Are you comparing the twins to Duffy?”

“’Course not. I’m sayin’ that you were always thinkin’ about Duffy’s welfare, not your own.”

“And?”

“And you’re doin’ it again. Sacrificing what you want for the sake of doin’ the right thing. At some point, honey, you gotta put yourself first. This is the rest of your life you’re talkin’ about here. As much as we both care about those kids, they’re not a good enough reason to give up your life.”

I can’t think of anything to say to that.

“You think you’d be doin’ those kids a favor by stayin’ with a man just for their sake? Believe me, I seen enough couples who fought like cats in a sack but stayed together for the kids. You talk to those grown kids today, they’d tell you they wish their folks had split up instead.”

I want to yell at him that he’s wrong, that everything he just said is bullshit. But I can’t. He’s right; Dante took care of those kids for ten years before I showed up. He doesn’t need me to save them.

And if we were to turn into one of those couples that fights in front of the kids, or worse, plays manipulative games against each other with the kids as pawns, we’d be no better than the types of people Dante’s been fighting his whole life.

By trying to do the right thing, I could end up becoming Isabella myself.

I don’t want to play the Game of Thrones. I just want to live my life and be happy.

Dad lets out a huge yawn and rubs his eyes.

“I need to catch a nap,” he says. “Jet lag is a bitch. Heh, listen to me. Ike Sparks talkin’ about jet lag. Ever think you’d see the day?”

“No,” I say with a half-smile. “Then again, I never thought I’d see the day when I married Prince Charming, either.”

He kisses my cheek. “Think about what I said, honey.”

“I will, Dad,” I say as he heads off for his quarters.

I may not get any sleep tonight, because it’s all I can think about.