Chapter Eighteen

Ruth woke on Sunday with Harry's arms around her. It had been just shy of a week since her birthday when she and Harry had rekindled their romance, and they'd been quite happy ever since. She had come over to his for dinner twice already since her birthday to see Graham and Catherine and Malcolm. The more she got to know all of them, the more she liked them. Catherine seemed to have warmed to her; after barely a week, Ruth thought of her as something of a friend.

But every night that Harry did not spend at home with his family and Ruth at the dinner table, he spent in her bed. God she'd missed him so much. The sex and the comfort and just everything about him. He was more open with her now that she'd met his children. He told her things about himself that he hadn't before. Perhaps it was because they had professed their love for each other or perhaps it was just that Harry had learned to not assume she already knew things. Either way, everything was going so well and they were happy.

On Sunday, however, Harry had to go back home and Ruth had to go see her father for lunch. They did that about once a month, had lunch together in the old house where Ruth had grown up, where her father still lived. It was nice to see him outside the usual bustle of their formal royal duties. And she did not go home as often as she used to, now that she worked in Foreign Intelligence. He was pleased that she was so devoted to her job, but they certainly both missed each other. After all, when Ruth's mother died when she was eleven, she and her father were all each other had. Uncle Edmund wasn't much of a sentimental type, and Grandfather obviously had enough else to be getting on with. Ruth was very much her father's daughter, and she was looking forward to seeing him.

And so after Harry kissed her goodbye—in the bedroom, on the stairs, by the front door—Ruth hurried to shower and dress for the day so Tom could drive her out to the countryside to Leister Palace.

Of the various regions of the country, Leister was closest to the capitol. The drive was not too long. And Ruth loved to see the change in landscape as they took the main road through the city and out past the suburbs. The city had the most miraculous mix of architecture from the last five hundred years, particularly since so much had to be rebuilt after the war. The suburbs were filled with houses of all sizes and all kinds, from the city homes of nobility to the attached tenements of the working class.

Ruth liked to look at everything and wonder about what sort of lives those people led. Lives she would never really understand and lives she would certainly never live. Though her life was just as incomprehensible to them. What would it be like to go to work and go home each day, go to the market for herself, do her own cooking, pay bills, buy clothes? What would it be like to fall in love and get married and have children and feed her family and send them off to school each day?

She shook her head as the dense forests of the countryside came into view. She smiled. These were her woods. As a child, she would take whatever book she was reading and run away from her nannies and find a place to sit and read under one of the mighty trees surrounding the palace. Happy memories of exploring the woods and letting her imagination run wild. Oh she loved those woods.

The trees thinned as the palace gates came up upon them. Wrought iron topped with gold, opening to reveal the white masonry and sweeping front staircase and high-peaked dark gray shingles. It was a grand estate, though by no means a castle fortress. Leister Palace. Ruth was home.

Ruth got out of the car without bothering to wait for Tom. She didn't need her bodyguard here. The Royal Guard had a full setup here at Leister Palace. They were not protecting heirs to the throne, but the Prince was an important royal and got an impressive contingent.

"There you are, what kept you?"

She grinned as she walked through the front door, opened for her by the guard, and was greeted by her father. "Hi, Dad."

He came over and hugged her tight. She immediately noticed a difference in him from when they'd danced together only a week before.

"You alright?" she asked with concern.

Dad just gave a tight smile. "Let's have lunch. It's waiting in the dining room."

When she was little, they never sat in the main dining room on ordinary days. That was reserved for holidays and for when important people came to visit. Now, however, Dad had decided that Ruth's presence was a very special occasion and he insisted that their luncheons be served in there.

They made their way to the dining room and Ruth took her father's arm. Though she felt him use her for support, something she'd never felt him do before. But he had wanted to have lunch, so she did not press him for more information yet.

Lunch was extravagant and delicious as always. Dad asked how her birthday had been, and she told him about the gifts from Harry and the notes from Catherine and Graham and how she'd gone to his house and they had reconciled.

"You see? I told you he was miserable without you. And you look much happier now, dear."

"I am," she confirmed. "I love him and he loves me, and I have never been happier."

He smiled softly at her. "I'm very glad to hear that. I want you to be happy. And I want you to have someone to take care of you."

"I don't need to be taken care of," she said, bristling at the implication.

"I know you don't. But I'm glad you have someone nonetheless. Someone who loves you. Someone for you to share your life with."

Ruth looked at him curiously. "Dad, is everything alright?"

The Prince waved his hand and the servants who were in the room left and closed the doors behind them. He turned back to Ruth. "About a month ago, I was having a bit of trouble with my digestion. I saw my doctor and he ran some tests. And he found tumors. It's cancer."

There was a ringing in Ruth's ears that drowned out everything else. Her heart stopped at those words, her worst fears realized. "Wh-why didn't you tell me?" she whispered. Her voice didn't seem to want to come out any louder.

"I'm telling you now. I got the diagnosis for certain about two weeks ago. And I didn't want to ruin your birthday. In fact, I made sure we didn't begin the treatment until after the party. I wanted to have a nice time with you on your special day."

Tears pricked her eyes. "Are you in pain?" she asked. Her voice shook now and the lump in her throat threatened to destroy her completely.

"The treatment is difficult. I'm weaker than I was. But it will help. This is not a death sentence, dear. I'm going to be sick but I've been assured that the condition is manageable for many years, even if I can't be cured."

"Years?"

"Yes, dear, years. My doctor is going to set up equipment here at the palace and there will be a team of nurses around the clock to monitor my condition, particularly as I adjust to the treatment. Other than the people in this house and the rest of the family, no one needs to know. I can carry on as before. Though you may have to take my place in certain royal functions, as I don't think I'll be able to do as much anymore."

"Of course," she promised. "Anything."

"I needed to tell you what was going on and now I have. So let's please go back to our nice lunch, alright?"

But Ruth had completely lost her appetite. Even if Dad wasn't going to be on his deathbed, cancer was a serious illness. The most serious illness. And he was weak and he was sick and the idea that he would be taken from her by this disease just as the accident had taken her mother was almost too much to bear.

She got up from her chair and crossed to where he sat and flung her arms around him and cried into to collar of his shirt. He rubbed her back and let her sit on his lap like when she was little, even though it must not have been very comfortable for him. And he soothed her just as he always did. "Shh, it's alright. Everything's going to be fine, Ruth. I promise, it's going to be alright. Shh, I love you, dear, please settle down."

As a child, Ruth had a tendency to get herself so upset and worked up that she would sob and hyperventilate and even cause herself to vomit if she wasn't careful. But Dad always knew how to calm her down. What was she going to do without him? How could she possibly survive in the world without knowing he was there, only a phone call away at any moment? She did not want to contemplate such a life.

Ruth kept crying, though eventually her tears subsided and she got her breathing under control. She rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to rub her back.

"I'm crushing you," she said hoarsely, knowing she needed to get up.

"No, you're fine. You just stay there for a little while. You might be old enough to rule the country now, but you're still my little girl."

Her tears began anew. She meant to tell him she loved him, but the words would not come. She just turned her head and cried into his shirt once more.