Page 20 of Scandal Queen

He chuckled and shook his head. “Clearly not enough. Wow, what a place we’ve found.”

“Yep, it’s certainly something.”

His fingers caught mine, his thumb running along my palm. “And who said I’d never get to take you to the pub?”

“You did.”

“Looks like I’m rewriting all the rules.”

I held his gaze for a moment before turning my attention to Daisy who had her magazines spread out before her. “All the rules.”

I settled back in my seat and waited for the infamous cider, watching as Oliver helped Daisy with the first page of the first magazine.

* * *

One cider became three, which meant my legs on the walk down to the sea felt like they didn’t belong to me. Worrying, considering they never really felt like they belonged to me anyway.

We didn’t have to go back to the shop for beach snacks, not that we even needed lunch after the epic breakfast. It had been delivered by Sandra, who had performed some ninja moves to get it through the packed bar to where we sat in the nook.

Loud voices, laughter and jokes had filled the quiet of the quaint pub, as locals had flittered in through the low doorway, but not one person had stepped into the space where we sat. Louise had been as good as her word.

I might love her for it.

It became a normal afternoon in the pub with my man; assuming one could look past the fact my man wasn’t normal at all and one day he’d have a crown on his head.

I giggled and then stumbled over a small hill in the sand.

“Something funny?” Oliver’s skin had picked up a brightness from the wind, making him even more beautiful if such a thing were possible. Daisy still held his hand. Possibly because her energy levels were now flagging, or maybe because she didn’t want him to let her go.

“I’m thinking about you with a crown on your head.”

He glared, but his lips curved at the edges. “I can assure you, I’ll make it look good.”

“Have you thought about what it will mean to be king? Like, Ollie.” My words slurred together a little bit. “You’re actually going to be king. Like a real king.”

He rolled his eyes—utterly un-monarch like.

“One day you are going to have to sit there with that long pole thingy and open parliament.”

“Leia! I would never get my long pole thingy out in public.”

I batted him with my hand and nodded my head at Daisy. His lips quirked. “Daisy what’s that long pole thingy called the king has in parliament?” he asked her.

“A sceptre,” she responded with no hesitation.

“And how do you know that?” I asked, trying to put my hands on my hips but unable to maintain my wobbly balance without pitching to the side.

She turned her big blues onto me. “I told you, Mrs Evans is teaching us about the royals.”

I cringed at the way she spoke of her favourite teacher in the present tense. Oliver reached over and squeezed my hand, giving me a small smile.

I nodded and took a breath. It was okay. This was my choice. No one could deny it would be hard, but it still remained my choice to make.

“You okay, Daisy?”

“I’m fine, Mummy. I love the beach.”

I gazed out to sea and then closed my eyes, allowing the salty air to drift over my skin. Oliver dropped my fingers and over the rolling thunder of the sea I could hear him talking to Daisy as they walked away.