Choices

Breakfast with my friends felt familiar and safe. Danielle, Malcolm, and Billy had mostly waited to eat until we arrived. The guards stood outside the room, and at my instance, the staff was willing to leave the food and let us serve ourselves.

To my friends’ credit, they all steered the topic of conversation toward random things that were unrelated to our current situation. It was as if they knew I needed a little break before I had to figure out how to do the job I’d committed to when I took down the old king.

We ate till we were all stuffed and laughed at Malcolm’s stories about trying to learn how to fix a car and accidentally setting it on fire. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pictured Mario’s face. “I bet he never let you near his car again.”

“Only if I’m trying to fix it. Driving I’m fine with. It’s when you give me tools that it causes an issue.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

“Your highness,” a male voice said.

I turned and saw one of my guards. Malaki, I think.

He was