Twisted-Games

RHYS
1 WEEK LATER
“Your Highness!” Erhall’s assistant jumped up from her desk, her eyes
wide. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but we don’t have you on
the calendar. There must’ve been a mix-up—”
“It’s all right,” Bridget said with a gracious smile. “I didn’t make an
appointment, but we would like to speak with the Speaker. Is he available?”
“Oh, um.” The flustered-looking woman rifled through her papers before
she shook her head. “Yes, of course. Please, follow me.”
She led us through the Speaker’s chambers toward his office. The thick
blue carpet muffled the sounds of our footsteps, and my muscles knotted with
tension.
We’re really doing this.
I wasn’t scared of Erhall, but this would be my first time seeing him since
I found out he was my father. Biologically, anyway. He hadn’t done jack shit
to earn the honor the title deserved.
Erhall’s assistant knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked again.
“What? I told you not to disturb me!” he barked.
The woman flinched. “Mr. Speaker, Her Highness Princess Bridget is
here to see you. And, um, Mr. Larsen.” She cast a quick, awed glance in my
direction.
I fought a grimace.
After the past week, everyone in Eldorra—hell, everyone in the world—
knew my face and name. They’d taken over headlines from Tokyo to New
York, and the footage from Bridget’s press conference, as well as the
“candid” photos and videos of us kissing afterward, had played on repeat on