Page 21 of Just Because He Wears A Crown
The servants returned with the main course. This time it was roasted chicken with herbs and vegetables. Again, they set down the plates and left without lingering.
After they’d eaten for a few minutes, Darragh asked, “Tell me about Winrone. I know it’s a small village within riding distance of the castle, but what is it like there?”
Finn leaned forward, his shoulders loosening as he gestured with his fork. “It’s small - maybe three hundred people. Everyone knows everyone else’s business, which can be annoying, but it also means no one goes without help when they need it.”
His eyes brightened. “Last month, I spent two weeks fixing Mrs. Weatherby’s roof. She kept bringing me tea and biscuits, telling me about her late husband. And young Patrick - he’s the blacksmith’s son - he’s been following me around asking questions, so I’ve been teaching him basic carpentry.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “There’s something satisfying about taking something broken and making it work again.”
“You really love it,” Darragh said.
“I do. It’s simple work, but it matters. When someone’s roof leaks and you fix it, you’ve made their life better in a tangibleway. They’re warmer, drier, and safer. You can see the result of your effort immediately.”
“Being king isn’t like that.” Darragh wished it were. Life would be so much easier.
“No,” Finn agreed. “From what I understand, being king means making decisions that affect thousands of people, most of whom you’ll never meet. The results could take years to see, and half the time you can’t be sure if what you did actually helped or if things would have turned out the same anyway.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like.” Darragh cut into a roast potato. “It’s frustrating as hell sometimes. You make what seems like the right choice, think you’ve implemented a good policy, and then three years later you’re still not sure if it worked.”
“That can’t be easy. Do you like it? Being king?”
No one had ever asked Darragh that. They asked whether he was good at it, if he was ready for the responsibility, or if he was upholding his father’s legacy. But whether he actually enjoyed the role? That question never came up.
“Yes, I think I do,” Darragh said slowly. “I like the challenge of it. I like knowing I can make a difference, even if I don’t always see the results. I like the trade negotiations and the policy debates. I can even tolerate the boring council meetings, even though sometimes I have to pinch my leg to stop myself from dozing off. But I go because it matters. It all matters to the people of Safe Harbor.” He paused. “But it’s lonely.”
Finn frowned. “That’s hard to believe, not that I’m suggesting you’re lying to me. But you have advisers and friends. The castle is full of people, from what I could see.”
“That’s true, yes, there are lots of people here, and I do have friends. But even with people I consider my friends, there’s still aline they won’t cross, a place where the crown gets in the way of any real connection. Even my closest friends remember I’m the king before they remember I’m Darragh.”
Finn tilted his head, considering. “That makes sense. I can see how that would be lonely, especially if everyone treats you like a position instead of a person.”
“Exactly.” Darragh finished his wine. “That’s why, when it comes to finding a spouse, I am very determined to be with someone who won’t bore me, who could be honest even if no one else around would be, and most of all, I hope I could have someone in my life who sees me, not just the crown.”
Finn was silent for a moment. He was toying with the last of his potato on his plate, and Darragh wondered if he’d even speak. But then he said, “And you think I might be that person.”
Darragh looked up and met his eyes. “I think you might be, yes.”
Finn nodded – just a brief move, but it was enough. Darragh sincerely hoped they were still on the same page.
The meal continued, and Darragh found himself leaning forward, gesturing with his fork as he explained trade routes. Finn was listening, but not in a simpering way as if he was just waiting for a pause to agree, but more in that he seemed keen to learn.
“So when the northern delegation says they’re ‘concerned about tariff equity,’ they actually mean…”
“They want to pay less and sell more,” Darragh finished.
“Right.” Finn grinned. “And at the World Council summit, you’ll have to sit there and pretend that’s a reasonable opening position.”
“For freaking hours. You have no idea how long some of those windbags can talk.”
“Sounds excruciating.”
“It is.” Darragh refilled both their wine glasses. “But that’s the job.”
When the servants cleared the dishes and brought dessert - a freshly baked apple tart with cream - Finn looked at his plate and laughed.
“What’s funny? Don’t you like apple?” Darragh asked. “I can message the kitchen and get something else.”
“I love apple tart.” Finn shook his head. “I was just thinking. It was only what…ten to twelve days ago, I think it was, when I was on a roof in Winrone, covered in tar and sweat, arguing with Trent about the best way to seal a chimney. Now I’m eating apple tart in a castle, discussing international relations with the king.”
He didn’t seem upset about it, so Darragh grinned. “Life’s strange that way.”
