Although I’d spoken with my parents and had confirmed with them both about my true parentage, I’d avoided speaking with them further about the subject. To me, there was no reason to discuss it. I knew the truth. What more was there to say?
Niamh had left to go inside, leaving me alone in the Sun Garden. The sun was setting when I heard a rustle. Expecting Laurent, I was surprised to see my father enter.
I struggled to think of him as my father. He’d been the man I’d called father my entire life, but I couldn’t honestly say he’d raised me. He’d raised me in the distanced way royalty preferred to raise their progeny, with occasional visits with nannies and tutors until I’d been old enough to hold a somewhat coherent conversation.
Strangely, I’d never wondered why I didn’t look like Prince
