Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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The last thing I feel like doing after having to sub for Greg and then spending the whole evening afterwards pacifying the fiery Andovan Prime Minister is to attend yet another PR meeting.
But with eleven days left to go for the Carvarell Games, I know we’re still in the early phases of things.
Anything can change at a moment’s notice, and we need to be on top of things, always.
I sit in the second most central seat in the Blue Room, waiting for the ladies. Alya, as always, waltzes in late. But what surprises me most isn’t the Queen trailing in after her—but the fact that my mother is shadowed by a daintily dressed Ella Langford.
I rise. I’m supposed to rise for my mother. It’s convenient that I get to rise for Ella as well.
“Your Majesty.” I give her the standard greeting. “Miss Langford.”
“Your Highness,” Ella greets me.
I try not to flinch at the formality. She’s supposed to address me that way, and she’s proving her aptitude as an attentive student. But a touch of disappointment is somehow mixed in with my happiness over her success. Then again, it’s my fault for calling her Miss Langford first.
“Would you have a seat?” I lift my hand vaguely to the seat on my farther side.
Behind me, Alya snickers. I ignore her. Ella looks to my mother for permission (how did she pick up on such a subtle dynamic so quickly?) and walks over to sit next to me after Mother nods.
Mother descends onto her chair. We all follow suit.
The fact that Ella’s sundress-style attire sparkles in the Blue Room is something I patently try to ignore.
This is a work meeting. I am a professional prince.
We might be engaged as far as social media is concerned, but I can’t afford to slip the way I almost did after my Opening Ceremonies speech.
It’s not appropriate to mix business with pleasure, and I refuse to have been raised the poster child of appropriate behavior for nothing.
Miss Valerie Fenway clears her throat in front of her little TV screen. We all pay attention.
The woman might be overachieving and demanding a meeting almost every other day, but at least she is proving to be a far more competent person than her brothers ever were.
Northandria might be traditional in a whole bunch of ways, but when we see a woman who knows what she’s doing, we don’t care about trusting her over the men.
Monarchy and aristocracy in general might not be a meritocracy, but that doesn’t mean slacking off is going to keep anybody’s job.
Scandals have sent former heirs packing before, and it falls on my shoulders to make sure my generation isn’t in the history books for all the wrong reasons.
Miss Fenway begins, “We have a problem.”
We all look at each other. Only Mother manages to remain entirely stoic. It’s a mastery of emotion that I really need to learn.
“Is this related to what we discussed this morning?” asks my mother. Because, of course, she’s been working since dawn. For all my hard work, I’m still just the heir apparent, not the king. There will always be information above my pay grade.
“Somewhat,” Miss Fenway answers.
“I do not see why it should be a problem at all,” says Mother.
“What is this about?” I ask.
“We have been experiencing some issues with some—visitors.”
“As far as I know, the athletes have been passing all the drug tests.”
“Yes.”
“And there have been no fights the likes of two years ago.”
“No.”
“Well then. What is it?”
“It is—not the athletes, Your Highness.” Miss Fenway frowns sternly. “Hence a slightly more delicate matter.”
My princely instincts tense. “Drenland isn’t causing problems over Princess Kya, are they?”
“No, sir.”
I breathe an internal sigh of relief. “Good.”
“But we’ve been having a few more issues with—disappearing royals.”
“Looks like Kya started a trend,” Alya chimes in unhelpfully.
Miss Fenway stays professional. “Prince Gregory of Argenterre—”
“Did not return in time for the ceremony yesterday. I am aware.” I speak a little impatiently. “I took his place for the awarding.”
“And he has since requested a multi-day leave of absence, sir.”
“Greg?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he give a reason?”
“No, sir, only that it was a personal matter.”
Huh. Even without being a proper heir, Greg has always been a reliable man to deal with. Always filling in quietly wherever he’s needed. Always helpful. Always friendly. Always the peacemaker.
It’s hard to imagine why he would pull a disappearing act like this, in the middle of the Games, no less.
“He hasn’t been abducted, has he? Or maybe he’s under some sort of foreign control?” I ask without thinking.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” Mother groans.
I frown.
“As far as we know, Your Highness, Prince Gregory was in perfect health and in full control of his faculties,” Miss Fenway answers. “Whatever the reason for this personal leave, he has requested for it of his own volition.”
The answer doesn’t really assure me, but I choose not to press it.
I feel a tap on my forearm and look up to find Ella’s sympathetic eyes on me.
She doesn’t say anything. I guess it’s not in her nature to interrupt anything.
But her small, almost sad, smile communicates that she notices my uneasiness, that she feels it with me.
Between my restrained mother and nonchalant sister, I don’t have much experience being on the receiving end of female empathy. Turns out, it’s a pretty darn nice thing.
“Given the number of representatives we have from Argenterre, we should be able to adjust for Prince Gregory’s schedule successfully,” Miss Fenway continues, all business.
“Then what’s the problem?” Alya asks loudly. “This isn’t another inadvertent lecture about royal duties, is it, Mother?”
The Queen huffs regally. She does everything regally.
“The problem is another prince,” Miss Fenway explains. Her fierce frown shows her utter disapproval of what she’s about to say, “this one from Sanbellini.”
“Eds then.” I groan. I fight the urge to hit my forehead with my palm the way people in all the movies do. Again, professional. “What is it this time? A vengeful ex? Another summer fling coming forward with a tell-all? They always pop up during the Games.”
“Early this morning, a video was leaked to the American press of a private yacht party from half a year ago. Prince Eduardo is prominently featured, with a particular young lady on his lap.”
I flinch. I don’t approve of Eds' partying ways, but this is hardly news.
“The young lady in this instance,” Miss Fenway continues, “is the daughter of the Andovan Prime Minister.”
“Oh goodness.” I groan. I have flashbacks of the large, blustering man I had to reason with all of last night. “He likely does not approve.”
“No—but his wife does, it appears, as she is also in the video—scantily clad.”
Ella gasps louder than she probably intended. Alya laughs. She’s always laughing, always irreverent. And the way Mother sighs tells me that she had not been aware of the full details either. I groan.
Can none of my friends be normal for just this jubilee?
It doesn’t escape me, of course, that pretending to be engaged to a near-stranger is probably just as uncharacteristic of me as any of their antics, but other people’s problems tend to feel a lot more inconvenient than our own.
“So I take it Eduardo is not supposed to show his face for the next 72 hours?” I ask helplessly.
“Preferably, no.”
“And the Sanbellis don’t have as many junior royals to take his place as the Argenterreans do for Greg.”
“No, sir.”
“But we do,” says the Queen. We all swivel to look at her. Mother smooths her skirts. “I see this as an excellent opportunity.”
Alya catches her breath audibly. “Mother, if this is the chance for me to—”
“Not you,” she says decisively. “We need something more exciting. The best way to overcome a scandal is always to focus on a positive event for the family.”
“We already have a jubilee, Mother,” I remind her.
“And a prince’s fiancée that everyone wants to meet.
” Mother turns around and locks her eyes on Ella.
For a moment, I have the strangest urge to block and protect Ella.
The Queen smiles. “Would you be kind enough to take over the awarding honors, Miss Langford? I am certain Northandria would love to see more of you.”
Ella seems to consider the offer for a full half minute before she answers, “I would be happy to help any way I am needed, Your Majesty.”
The triumph in Mother’s eyes and the pride in my chest, mixed in with a pang of worry for Ella, make for a very confusing combination.