Royal Dick

by Melinda Minx

  The crowd drones back, “She swears it.”

  “Now rise,” the king says.

  We both rise, hand in hand.

  “Prince Rikard,” the king says. “Princess Jane, you may now seal your union.”

  That means we’re supposed to kiss. We turn toward each other, and Rikard grabs hold of me, pressing his lips down against mine.

  My head is spinning. I’m a real-life princess now, and my prince is kissing me in front of thousands of people. A king and queen included.

  I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back, pressing my tongue against his. We kiss for a long time, and the organ music changes to some kind of Nordian celebratory song. I hear people cheering, and the flashes from cameras intensify.

  When we stop kissing, Rikard takes my hand, and he escorts me back down the aisle as my husband. We smile and wave to the people in the aisles as we pass by. All of Rikard’s cousins are behind me again to carry my dress, and when we step outside, it’s a perfectly clear blue sky, rare for a Nordian winter.

  A woman that I don’t even recognize hands me a coat. I wrap it around my bare shoulders, and a horse-drawn carriage is waiting in front of the cathedral for us.

  Rikard steps up onto the carriage, and he holds his hand out for me. I grab hold of his strong, solid hand, and he lifts me up into the carriage.

  He shuts the door behind me, and the driver whistles for the horses to start moving.

  The carriage jolts and jostles across the cobblestone roads leading from the cathedral to the central market. There were thousands inside the cathedral, but there are hundreds of thousands gathered outside along our route.

  As we move, a full squad of soldiers, led by Magnus, escorts our carriage on foot. Increased security in light of the current situation.

  We smile and wave as our carriage moves across the marketplace and down the narrow streets of the city. Even though my smile is genuine, I’ve been smiling for at least two hours now, and my face is starting to hurt.

  Still, I try to look as happy as possible for all the people who have decided to spend all morning waiting for a chance to see the prince and princess together after their wedding.

  Just when I think nothing could be more perfect, I see Magnus leap onto our carriage, tear the door open, and shout, “Artillery!”

  Before I can even process what the hell Magnus is talking about, Rikard has me gathered up in his arms. He jumps out of the carriage with me, and he drops to the ground, his powerful body covering mine.

  Moments later, I hear a loud whirring sound, and then there’s a sound so loud the vibrations rattle my bones. I hear the sound of stone crunching and metal tearing, and when I look up―barely able to see from beneath Rikard―the whole side of the building in front of us has turned to dust, and there are chunks of debris flying through the air.

  Rikard is pressing me down harder now, and I hear the debris slamming into the cobblestone road. It’s mostly small, pulverized stone, but there are a few chunks of boulder as big as my head slamming down onto the cobblestone.

  Everyone is screaming now, and dust has filled the air.

  Rikard pulls me up to my feet, then tears the bottom of my dress off with his bare hands. I worry about all those diamonds just lying on the road, but then I hear another hissing sound, and Rikard tugs me by the hand down the road.

  Magnus is in front of us, and a car races toward us just as another building explodes.

  The door swings open, and Rikard shoves me forward into the back seat. I reach out a hand to help him in, but he shuts the door on me, and I hear the tires squeal as the car whisks me away from danger―and from my husband.

  17

  Rikard

  Just after the armored car whisks Jane away, a Humvee rolls up, and Magnus and I jump into it.

  The driver does a double take at me. “P-p-prince Rikard?”

  I sigh. Going public is going to be a royal pain in the dick.

  “Yes,” I say. “General Breivik has released me from leave, so give me a gun, and―”

  Something explodes beside us, and the Humvee shakes as shrapnel ricochets off the vehicle in a metallic screech. Magnus’s huge mass rolls into me as the driver fights to control the wheel. It feels like we’re about to flip over, but just when Magnus is all but crushing me, he starts to slide back across the seat, and I feel my jaw slam hard as the Humvee crashes back onto the ground.

  “The blast knocked us up on two wheels!” the driver shouts, eyes bulding.

  “Drive!” I shout. “South.”

  The artillery is surely set up in Sydia. The capital and the palace are just six miles from the Sydian border. Sydia, a province of Nordia, might just be in open rebellion.

  “They waited until the wedding to attack,” Magnus says, in near disbelief.

  “I still can’t believe Siegfried allied himself with the Sydians. He can’t think they’ll let him be king, can he?”

  We drive south, and the explosions fade into the background. They are bombarding the capital―but Jane is likely in the fallout shelter by now. Safe. More than I can say for my people.

  I considered staying back, helping people who were hurt―but several divisions are already ordered to stay back and do that.

  Magnus and I need to bring the fight to them. The best way to stop the artillery is to take it out, not to sit there and wait for it to blow the capital apart building by building.

  I hear jets roaring above us. They’ll likely be able to take out most of the artillery guns, but at least two dozen Humvees of ground troops are on the way, as well. If we’re lucky, the Sydians will see us coming and shit their pants. It’s hard to operate an artillery gun when you’ve got a warm load in your boxers.

  18

  Jane

  “It’s okay,” Jannika says. “We’re safe here.”

  I grind my teeth together. “He...he left me!”

  “Rikard is impulsive,” Jannika says.

  “It’s supposed to be our wedding day―our wedding night,” I say, feeling the sudden urge to cry.

  “They will want to stage an offensive against the artillery positions,” Jannika says. “It’s the best way to prevent more civilian casualties―”

  “But he’s the prince!” I say, grabbing her shoulders. “Does the king need to go in and fight, too? Is this the Middle Ages?”

  Jannika bites her lip. “The generals will certainly be angry when they find out that Rikard joined the offensive.”

  “Not as angry as me!” I say, feeling the rage burning in me

  I’m not really mad that I’m missing out on my wedding night―okay, maybe I’m a little upset about that―but I’m mostly angry that Rikard could get himself killed less than fifteen minutes after marrying me. After vowing to be with me for the rest of our lives.

  I’ll have to set that stubborn man’s priorities straight when he gets back.

  If he gets back.

  My family is all safe. They were still in the cathedral when the artillery hit, and the cathedral was―miraculously, some say―spared from any direct hits.

  We’ve been told that the shelling has died down, but there are still hundreds of injured people, and I’m worried that there will be all-out war. The start of a war cannot be a good omen for a princess's wedding day.

  “Jannika,” I say. “Do you think there’s any chance that…”

  I trail off, not even wanting to say it.

  “What?” she asks.

  “This is sensitive...I shouldn’t ask it,” I say.

  “You’re my sister now,” she says. “Ask.”

  We’re in a small room within the fallout shelter. My family is in the cafeteria, but I have no appetite.

  “Siegfried betrayed us...do you think Magnus―”

  “No,” Jannika says. “We can trust Magnus. Not only because I know we can trust him, but think about it logically.”

  “I’m no good at politics,” I say.

  “Look,” she says. “Siegfried is in line
after me, and then Magnus comes after him.”

  “I know,” I say. “Why does that mean Magnus wouldn’t betray us?”

  “Siegfried needs to kill as many competitors as possible to secure his position. He tried to kill Rikard, and I expect he’ll try to kill me, if he gets a chance. He’d probably like Magnus gone as well.”

  “So why not bring Magnus in with him?” I ask. “So he’s not a threat?”

  “If Magnus betrays Rikard, that means he’s not trustworthy, right?”

  “I guess,” I say, shrugging.

  “So then Siegfried has to watch his back, worried that untrustworthy Magnus will take him out, making him third in line rather than fourth. It’s much easier just to kill him, or even to leave him be.”

  “I see,” I say. “So I guess I’ve asked the most invasive question already, now I’ll ask one that doesn’t seem as bad.”

  “What’s that?” Jannika asks.

  “Is Magnus gay?” I ask, thinking of Jake.

  “No,” Jannika says. “He’s not. Why?”

  “No reason,” I say. “Just curious…”

  “Was Jake curious?” Jannika asks.

  I bite my lip. “Maybe, but if he’s straight, then it’s a non-issue.”

  “There are many strong gay men in the army,” Jannika says. “We can find one for Jake.”

  I laugh at the idea of strong gay Nordian soldiers lining up for my brother, but I probably owe it to him after inviting him to a wedding that turned into a civil war.

  “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just get my family out of here as soon as the airport’s open,” I say.

  Jannika nods to me. “It may be for the best. We’ve had peace for over fifty years, Jane, so it’s a shame that the timing was so bad for you and your family.”

  I laugh nervously. “I’m almost worried people will think I’m some kind of cursed princess―like I brought this whole thing with me. The first attack happened only a few hours after my plane hit the tarmac.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Jannika says. “This was all brewing and bubbling up long before you arrived. No one will blame you.”

  Superstitious people still might, but I don’t want to make Jannika have to keep reassuring me. I swallow the rest of my worries and just smile, letting her think that I’m okay.

  I’m worried to death about Rikard. The explosions have finally died down―it’s been ten minutes since I heard one. That has to be a good sign, right? If Rikard’s attack failed, then the artillery would still be firing. Then again, what the hell do I know? Everything I know about military conflicts is from a few courses I was forced to take as part of my anthropology studies. I’ve only been interested in wars in as far as they disrupt human settlements and society. I’ve never given a rat’s ass about what kind of weapons or tactics were used during the actual fighting.

  And now that my husband―God, it still feels so weird to even think that word, let alone say it―is neck-deep in an actual battle, I suddenly care a lot about military tactics.

  “What will they do after they stop the artillery?” I ask.

  Jannika bites her lip again as she gives it some thought. Then she says, “Unless it’s a total slaughter, I expect they’ll likely have to push forward even more and gain a foothold in Sydia.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to just rush in on a counter-attack with no plan?”

  “Well,” Jannika says. “There are plans. The generals have been drafting all kinds of contingency plans for almost a decade, ever since the Sydian separatists started rumbling about independence. Nordia and Sydia are like North and South Korea, meaning the capital is extremely close to the Sydian border.”

  “Which is why they can hit us with artillery from there, right?”

  “Right,” Jannika says. “And that’s why I expect they will try to gain a foothold deeper into Sydia. At least far enough that they can’t shell the capital again from the border.”

  “I see,” I say. “Do you think Rikard will...stay there?”

  “No,” Jannika says, shaking her head. “Everyone is already furious that he went out there in the first place. As soon as the fighting dies down a bit, I expect a squad will be sent in to pull him away from the fighting.”

  “Thank God,” I say.

  19

  Rikard

  “We’ve pushed them back fifty kilometers,” Magnus says. “We should form a defensive line here.”

  I grind my teeth together. “Magnus, they are in a total route. We can push further, cut Sydia in two…”

  “Then we risk having insurgents behind us, slipping into the capital,” Magnus says. “Right now, they’re out of artillery range, and we have suffered almost no casualties. We should fortify here and sue for peace.”

  I hear a Humvee rolling up behind me, and when I turn around, I see that it’s flanked by two others.

  The door opens, and General Breivik’s polished boots step out and are soiled in the mud.

  “Your Highness,” Breivik says. “Good thing I found you.”

  “I’m not going back until―” I start to defend myself, but he snaps his fingers to cut me off.

  Six armed men rush toward me, but they snap to attention just short of reaching me.

  “What’s this about?” I ask. “Am I going to have an honor guard during the fighting? Come on, General―”

  “No,” Breivik says. “These men are going to escort you back to the capital.”

  “But―”

  “Don’t make me order them to take you forcefully, Your Highness; they’re patriotic men.”

  I glare at him.

  He leans closer into me. “Come on, Rikard,” he whispers. “You just got married, and we seriously cannot risk you being captured. Imagine how many lives that could cost us?”

  “Siegfried would never hold me prisoner,” I say. “He’d kill me then and there.”

  “All the more reason for you to go back to your princess,” Breivik says. “You’re too valuable to fight as one soldier. You represent more than that.”

  I sigh. I’m not going to make these guys drag me into the Humvee, and Jane is probably furious with me as it is. I got to fight long enough to stop the attack, and that’s more than I could have hoped for, all things considered.

  “Let’s go then!” I shout in response, my decision made, and I stalk off toward the Humvee.

  It’s pitch black when we roll back into the city. The city is coated in total darkness; all the city lights have been turned off to make it more difficult to aim artillery fire or conduct any airstrikes. Even though the city is dark, I can still make out the piles of rubble and ruined buildings in the moonlight.

  It looks like one out of every ten buildings was at least damaged, and one in fifteen has been completely leveled. It could have been a lot worse, I realize. I remember photos of Dresden after World War II, a full cityscape of dust and rubble with only a few scattered buildings standing tall, like weeds on an otherwise freshly cut lawn.

  “We’re lucky,” I mutter.

  I notice the palace is the only building still lit up. The citizens need it to remain visible for everyone, to serve as a symbol. A way of declaring that the king still reigns.

  And then I realize why I really had to go back. They need to see me, too, and Jane. They need to know that we are still strong and there for them. They need to be assured of that more than they need me clashing shoulder to shoulder with Magnus, or throwing grenades at artillery guns.

  The Humvee rolls into the garage located beneath the palace. Once we’re parked, I get out of the vehicle and head off to shower in the barracks. I wash away all the blood and soot and remnants of rubble off my body, and change into a clean suit.

  Jane will still be awake, even though it’s four o’clock in the morning. I sigh and rub my hand over my chin. This was our wedding night.

  I brace myself as I exit the barracks and step into the grand room. I immediately see Jane at the end of the hallway, and as soo
n as she notices me, she’s rushing toward me.

  Someone must have told her that I was back.

  I run toward her, and she leaps into me, wrapping her legs around my body. I easily support her weight, and I grasp onto her possessively as she clings to me.

  She doesn’t say anything, but I hear her heavy breathing against my ear. Her breaths are punctuated by gasping sobs.

  “We’re married now,” she says through her sobs. “Do you really understand what that means?”

  I let her down, and she looks up at me with eyes red and rubbed raw from crying. Her makeup is smeared with tears, and her lip is trembling.

  “I do,” I say. “That’s why I came back.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s why you shouldn’t have left!”

  “You were in danger,” I say. “Everyone was in danger―”

  “Prince or not,” she says, “on the battlefield, you’re just one more man. Nordia has tens of thousands of soldiers. You’re one man…”

  “And all of those tens of thousands of soldiers will fight that much harder knowing their prince was willing to fight beside them.”

  I know I shouldn’t argue with her like this. She’s already furious at me, but I’m too stubborn to just roll over and admit defeat.

  “Great,” she says. “And if you’d died?”

  “I didn’t die,” I say. “We won.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. I can tell she’s been sick with worry about me.

  “It’s technically still our wedding night,” I say, a smile curling up along the corners of my mouth.

  She scoffs. “You think I’m going to do any...any...wedding night stuff with you after you did this to me?”

  I lick my lips. I’m feeling bold―as usual―so I just grab hold of her and crush my lips against hers. I feel her attempting to fight me, trying to push me off her. I don’t give up.

  She still tries to push me away after several seconds, and just before I release her and apologize, I feel her lips part. Her tongue submits to mine, and her whole body softens.