27. Christian
Cataleya gazes up at me before standing. I can sense in her posture that she’s committed to fulfilling her role as Queen and the knowledge of that buoys me.
“I want to be there for my people,” she tells me.
Her hazel eyes carry the fire of a Queen, and I’m more certain than ever that she’s the woman for me. Only, something else tinges the moment.
Beneath my pride in her, I feel some disappointment. The Soria Palace was the place I’d decided on for my final admission of my love for her. In fact, I had planned it all meticulously. The night before the ceremony, I wanted to take her for a walk through the forest and, under the moonlight, propose to her. For real this time. I wanted to do away with our fake arrangement and make things official with her once and for all.
But, of course, the palace, the forest, and the proposal have all been swept away in the destruction that has visited the Kaya Forest and our people.
As I gaze into Cataleya’s eyes, though, I’m bolstered.
“You’ll make a great leader,” I tell her, taking her by the hands, and pulling her close.
For a moment, our embrace feels like the only thing in the world, but I know we need to move.
“We’ll all head out to the forest in a few days,” I tell her, feeling a surge of responsibility rise in me. “The people need us there.”
Cataleya pulls away and nods, determination in her eyes. It’s a look that remains as we make arrangements to travel, as if something in her has shifted for good.
The next few days are a whirlwind of crisis management. I have meetings with the Minister for the Environment, the head of National Safety, lobby groups, activists, and emergency services, along with consultations with my father.
Ishmael and Cedrick have also been heavily involved with the crisis, but even between the three of us, there’s more than we can handle. At any given moment, I’m juggling four or five things at once, but in between, when I catch a few moments with Cataleya, her support strengthens me.
I see she’s eager to contribute, and when I suggest she liaise with the charity organizations collecting goods for displaced survivors, she jumps at the chance.
“I won’t let you down,” she promises me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“You couldn’t if you tried,” I tell her with a smile before rushing off to my next meeting.
When we finally board the flight to Kaya with my father, brothers, and an entourage of advisors and assistants, we’re both exhausted. But we’re also more committed than ever to help on the ground. Flying over the Virkan Ranges, we can see the pillar of smoke rising up in the distance, thick and white. My heart aches at the sight, and it seems like Cataleya is equally moved to compassion.
“Oh, my God,” she mutters, craning forward to get a better view. “We need to do something.”
“We are doing something,” I assure her, reaching forward and taking her hand. “We already have a public address scheduled for this afternoon, and we’ll do whatever we can to help where we’re needed on the ground.”
Cataleya nods, but her grip on my hand tightens. She doesn’t let go until we land.
As we drive toward the site of the fires, the air grows sharp with woodsmoke. The sun, shining brightly just moments before, is slowly obscured by the haze and dims to a sickly orange.
It’s a sight that makes my heart break, knowing that my people are suffering. Cataleya must sense the shift in me, because she reaches over and squeezes my hand. When I look over, I see she’s gazing at me. The same sorrow is in her eyes.
When the car arrives at the scene Cataleya and I climb out into the chaos. Firefighters and medics are rushing back and forth. Haphazard tents have been set up to provide food and water, or to shelter evacuees. Someone is yelling over a megaphone, directing volunteers.
“Your Highness,” I hear behind me, and I turn to see my secretary, Paul, hurrying toward me from one of the other cars. “The first item on the agenda is with the head of operations, Varda Solokoi. He has requested your presence, and Lady Cataleya’s, in the emergency shelter.”
I nod curtly but glance back toward the car where my father is being brought out. In spite of his health, he insisted on coming and I watch for a moment to make sure Ishamel and Cedrick are taking good care of him.
He catches me watching and shoots me a crooked smile. “Go on!” he calls, waving me away with his good hand.
When I turn, I see that Cataleya has been watching, too.
“He’ll be alright, won’t he?” she asks, clearly concerned.
I’m warmed by her words and reassure her. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
With that, the two of us follow Paul toward one of the tents. There, Varda, a gruff but friendly man, greets us both cordially.
“Thank you so much for coming. I thought some of the evacuated villagers would be bolstered by your presence,” he explains, gesturing to the several dozen people gathered in the tent. “Many of the children, especially, would like to meet Lady Cataleya.”
Glancing around I see many of the evacuees are injured, but even the worst of them seem pleased to see us. Just as Varda said, a group of children have already gathered, gazing at Cataleya and whispering excitedly among themselves.
“Of course,” I answer, smiling at Cataleya. “Anything we can do to help.”
Cataleya shoots me a tight smile back, and I see the pain in her eyes. I’ve spent my life preparing for moments such as this but for Cataleya, this is new. Even her experience as a lawyer probably hasn’t put her this close to a crisis of such magnitude.
In spite of this, I have faith that she can handle it, and the moment we approach the first family, she radiates warmth.
“How are you holding up?” she asks them, taking a chair and gesturing for the family of four to do the same.
The parents, dirty with soot and weary-eyed, seem to appreciate the gesture, but the children—two little boys—can hardly sit still. They keep jumping up to inch closer to Cataleya, giggling whenever she shoots them a smile.
In fact, Cataleya seems immediately at home, and I watch on in awe as she manages to be both poised and familiar with the citizens. Each of them, while obviously impressed by her status, seem to immediately feel at ease with her. As we make our way around the tent, she leaves a trail of reassurance in her wake.
When we leave, several of the children approach her again and she bends down, meeting each of them at their level, and giving them a comforting hug.
“You were amazing,” I tell her, once we’ve stepped outside. “And those kids, they adored you.”
She gives an embarrassed smile, clearly touched by my words. “I just want to make sure they’re doing the best they can, under the circumstances.”
“Prince Christian, Lady Cataleya,” Paul says again, having tailed us. “The press conference is scheduled to begin in a few minutes.”
I nod, and soon we’re ushered into another tent, this one crammed with journalists and camera operators. Ishmael, his wife Liza, Cedrick, and my father are there, too. After the King speaks, Cataleya and I approach the podium.
“These fires are a national tragedy,” I begin, reciting the speech I’d memorized earlier that day. “The royal family mourns the devastation that’s been caused already, and we are committed to doing everything within our power to bring this crisis to a swift end so that we may focus on rebuilding…”
As I speak, Cataleya stands by my side, and when it’s her turn to address the room, I watch on proudly. As usual, she handles the situation gracefully, and when it’s time for questions, she fields just as many as I do.
“We’re here because we care about our people,” she states in answer to the last inquiry. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be seeing what we can do in practical terms to help those who are still fighting the fires.”
With that, the two of us step out of the tent and back into the surrounding chaos.
“Your Highness,” Paul’s voice comes again, and I’m grateful for a secretary who can keep us on track even in the midst of an emergency like this. “The head of the crisis response team has asked for a private meeting,” he continues. He shoots an apologetic glance at Cataleya.
I go to say something, but she stops me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, go. I’ll be fine here.”
I hesitate a little but Liza arrives at precisely that moment, and I feel better knowing she won’t be left alone.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I tell her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. With that I hurry off with Paul into yet another tent.
Before I enter, I cast one last look at my wife, the future Queen, proud of how far she’s come.