Chapter 0287

Daphne and I chat amiably on the way to breakfast, her telling me all the things she wants to see in the city, me giving my own recommendations. But when we turn into the breakfast room, I go a little still to see that it’s just my dad sitting at the head of the table, having a quiet cup of coffee while he scrolls through some document on his tablet.

He looks up when we come in. Daphne freezes awkwardly beside me as dad stands up, giving us both a wide smile.

“Daphne,” he says, giving her a little bow that makes her blush. “As much as I’d love to have breakfast with you as well, Ella’s set up a little something for you and the boys down the hall.” He gestures to the hallway behind her. “I think my daughter and I need a little moment alone to have a chat.”

My eyes go a little wide because…well, I mean, I don’t think I’ve done anything to be in

trouble…

But did mom tell dad I snuck out with Jackson last night!?

Does it even count as sneaking out if you don’t leave your house!?

“Okay!” Daphne says, her voice a little squeaky as she scurries out into the hall. She looks back at me anxiously, though, not knowing where to go.

the left,” I whisper, grinning at her and nodding, knowing that’s the only other room mom would use to serve breakfast. Daphne grins at me and mouths “good

to the seat at his side, which is already set for breakfast, a cup of coffee waiting for me. “A bit late,” he says, glancing at the clock as I seat myself. I glance at it too, and nod, realizing that this is more of a brunch or a lunch than a

giving my dad my best innocent–Princess smile, “after our long journey

to unwind. “Don’t be so anxious, Ariel,” he murmurs as one of the cooks comes into the room with a plate of food for me. “You’re

breakfast since I was a little girl. I smile my thanks

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form the room. As I begin to eat, I turn my attention back to my

of the eggs onto my toast and making a little sandwich

settling back in his chair with his coffee in his hand, studying me. “I

dad, anxious again because – well, because dad and I don’t really talk about romantic stuff. But when I see him clear his throat and flick his gaze away, I realize that he feels just as awkward as I do. And my anxiety subsides, replaced by love for

as he looks down into his coffee. “For not telling me about this

Cora says you would have locked me up,” I say,

then cough a bit as toast crumbs get stuck in my throat. Dad laughs, leaning forward to pat me on the back. “Or I’ll just let your mates watch you eat,” he murmurs, “that should be enough to make

take a sip, swallowing. Then I turn my eyes back to my dad. “They

he murmurs, smirking at me, and I smirk back, and then everything feels… quite suddenly right again. Dad and I we’ve always had a very special bond. And even if it is strange to talk about boys, I know that he’s got my

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