Gold Weaver | ✓

drei

DREI

When I next properly woke up, it was morning. I say 'properly' because that night, I just couldn't get to sleep. Or when I did, I woke up every half an hour or so. It was annoying but it was a regular thing. You could say I'd got used to it, whatever that meant.

"You're up," Dad said, like it was one in the afternoon when really it was only 7. But then by his attire and blown about hair from the wind, I knew he'd been up at 5, as usual, to go to the Mill. "There's some eggs in the fridge, fresh from Farmer Angus."

"You didn't take them, did you?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Take them?" He asked, almost offended. And then, after a moments thought. "Define take."

"Dad."

"No, Ele," he said, almost laughing. "I did not take them... I simply borrowed them." At the sight of my face, he sobered up. "I'm joking, I swear. I told him about you, about that school. What was it called again?" He clicked his fingers in thought.

"Drexton," I filled in with a sigh.

"Yes, yes," he said, putting down his things. For someone getting on a bit, he still had the strength of a young man. "I told him about that. Well he's known you since you were a youngen and he was so proud. 'Take these eggs, fresh this morning,' he said to me he did."

"And he gave you free eggs because I got into Drexton?" Drexton was an elite school, one I'd fantasised about for years. I'd worked fucking hard to get in and when I did, I've never felt happier. "You didn't... fabricate anything?"

"I fabricate things that aren't so impressive," he told me, sincerely. "I've never needed to make something up for you, Els. You make me proud no matter what you do."

"Oh, Dad," I said before throwing myself at him. He caught me easily and laughed into my hair, his arms firm around me. "I love you, you know. You'll always be my little girl."

"I know, Dad," I said because it was true. "I know."

Mid hug, he said something that had me stiffening completely. "I'm seeing the King today."

"At a parade?" I tried, hopefully, but the sinking feeling in my stomach told me it wasn't quite what he meant.

"I'm going to him personally."

"You promise me you know what you're doing?"

He brought me to his chest again, holding me like he did when I was little. "Sometimes in life you have to take risks."

It wasn't really an answer but I knew I wasn't about to get a better one, no matter how much I pride.

"Okay," I said at last. "Okay, I trust you."

"Come with me," he said. "We can go to the palace together. It'll be like old times."

I didn't know whether I agreed to go with him to keep him company or to keep an eye on him. Either way, a few hours later, I found myself sitting beside him on his cart as we went hobbling down the road.

It shook and wobbled, probably not a good sign, but Dad seemed unable to wipe the smile off his face. Even when we got to the palace wall and the less than friendly guard demanded a name and identification, he still grinned. The guard seemed a little unsettled, but let us through anyway.