by J. J. McAvoy
“Oh, please.” Odette rolled her eyes. “As if a little nudge is affecting you.”
“So, you admit it!”
“I did not.” She looked away, walking to the other side of the table.
I shook my head. “Iskandar, are you truly going to let them do this to me?”
I turned back to face him. However, he was on the phone with his back turned in my direction—great, who knew what he was informing my brother of this time.
“Are you playing or not?” Odette questioned.
And when I looked back to the table, we were somehow even. I glanced back to her face and the smile she was trying hard to hold back. “Do you have no shame?”
“If my mom were here, she would say, ‘Shame? What can I do with shame? Can I eat it? Can I wear it? Does it keep me warm at night? No. Then why the hell do I need it?’ It’s kind of her motto,” she said back, and I noticed Iskandar walking over to Wolfgang.
It was my chance to distract him before he helped her cheat again.
“Her daughter is not that far behind,” I muttered, walking around to find the best angle. “I better defeat you quickly. If I blink, I might see all the balls back on the table.” Seeing how to, I leaned over.
“Sir.”
I missed the ball completely, startled by how close he was to me. “Dammit, Iskandar! Did you not see—”
“We need to go,” he interrupted me harshly.
“What?” I stood up straighter.
“We are going now. I will also need your phone,” he said. I was used to the stone-faced, unaffected Iskandar, but something was different. His eyes gave him away. They looked dead, void of anything. Iskandar was a stickler for the rules, but he wasn’t completely dead inside.
“What is wrong?” I asked him.
“You phone, sir,” he repeated sternly.
I noticed Wolfgang taking Odette’s, too. He did not have the same demeanor as before, nor was he able to hide the emotions on his face as well as Iskandar; his freckled face was visibly paler, and he was shaken.
Panic started to work its way up me. “Is it my father?”
“We go need to go, now, sir. So, we are going.”
“You are not answering me!” I snapped at him. “What is going on?”
He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I do not know. I was just given orders to get you to safety, right now. Sir, we need to go.”
I did not know what to say, so I just nodded. I was not sure when he took the cue from my hand or when I started walking, but I did. It was only when Odette grabbed my hand that I notice how hard my heart was beating and also how I was trembling.
“Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered to me, squeezing my arm.
I did not reply because this was not how things went when things were okay. I squeezed her hand back, praying that she, somehow, was right, that being here in America had made things different and that this was only something small. But my mouth was drying, and my chest hurt. When we got into the car, and they rushed into the front seats, the dread became worse.
“Odette...” I whispered, staring outside the window. “I think it’s my father.”
“Gale, let’s not jump to conclusions. Okay?” she whispered back, kissing my knuckles.
Too late.
When my grandfather had passed, all the royals had to be “taken to safety.” It meant we needed to be protected until the line of succession was confirmed.
When was the last time I had even spoken to my father?
Dear God, please no.
Please.
He was pale.
His grip on me was stronger than steel.
Wolfgang looked like someone shot a puppy in his arms.
Iskandar...he looked almost like he always did; however, his jaw was tight, his gaze on the front. He was driving. No, he was speeding. Everything about the situation was terribly wrong, and I wanted to kick Wolfgang for taking my phone. Not knowing, not having the ability to find out, made everything worse. I did not argue because Gale needed more of my attention and support.
I was hoping we would get back to my place quickly, but twenty minutes into the drive, I noticed we were out of the city and on the freeway going toward the airport. And it was then that I was sure something horrible had happened.
When my father had died, I was at a spa. It was the first time I had gone in a year. Two years, maybe. I had put away my phone, and it was only an hour after when I walked out feeling all sparkly and new, that I turned on my phone to see all the messages coming in at once. As I drove, I saw the screens on billboards confirming his death. I heard it over the radio. I was screaming and confused and guilty. By the time I got the hospital, I had begged for them to tell me everyone was lying. Or that there was something wrong with me, and I was just seeing things. But it was true; my father was gone. And I was the last to know.
I guess that was why they had taken our phones, and the radio was off.
“Sir, ma’am, you both need to get out,” Wolfgang said, and it was only then that I noticed we were at the airport, but he was standing outside with the doors open.
The cold air didn’t even seem to faze Gale or me. I tried to let go of his hand to step out, but he wouldn’t let me. So, I hung out the door a bit.
“Gale, you can’t hide from it in here.” I knew he didn’t want to find out the truth. I had been there. But the world always had a way of letting it be known.
He exhaled once before moving, following me out.
Another sign that things were horribly wrong? They just left the car outside the airport.
When we walked inside, they did not give it a second thought, directing us to a section of security by Ersovian Airways.
Another sign something was wrong? A few people behind the counter had their heads down, and some were crying. Gale noticed, too, but before he or I could question anything, we were ushered through the airport again. This time, right through the TSA. No one stopped us; there was no time to. I was sure if they wanted, they could have thrown us onto a plane automatically.
The group around us began to grow from Iskandar and Wolfgang to airport security, to some other men in black. Soon, I couldn’t even see where we were headed. And all the while, no one let us know what was happening.
It felt like hours had gone by before they stopped and allowed us into some private lounge. No one else but a few men—older men, gray-haired, bad-news type of men—were standing inside all waiting. Upon seeing Gale, they stood taller.
“My father? The King...” Gale asked gently. “He is dead?”
They all looked around at each other, and when a man replied, Gale’s head rose, and his face bunched up in confusion. The man spoke and shook his head. God, I would give anything to know what was being said. When he spoke, there was only one word I understood.
“Arthur.”
Gale let go of my hand, shouting something I did not understand.
Chapter 26
“On November 28 at 5:37 a.m. CET, Prince Arthur Fitzwilliam Percival Henry was pronounced dead on the scene at Queen Amasova Airport in Monelrene from injuries he sustained when his aircraft crashed shortly after takeoff, about sixty meters—two hundred feet—from the runway. He survived the initial impact—”
“Stop talking!” This was some sort of mistake. They were wrong. Did they hear what they were saying? How could it be Arthur? “I spoke to my brother just last night! What are you saying? How dare you even joke about this?”
The man took a step closer to me, bowing his head with his hand over his heart. “Adelaar.”
“I said, stop talking! How dare you call me that! There is only one Adelaar, and his name is Prince Arthur, and he is not dead! Iskandar give me my phone!” I demanded, stretching out my hand, but he stood there like he was dumb, deaf, and blind. “I said, give me my fucking phone! I will call him myself! And we will both laugh at how ridiculous you all are! Give me the phone! I said, give me the phone!”
Walking up to Iska
ndar, I searched in his jacket. My hands shook, or was it my legs or my head? I did not know. I just needed the phone. Grabbing it off him, I dialed. However, there was no line. How could there be no line? The Adelaar always had a line. If it was busy, you would be told.
“Something is wrong with his phone, but believe me, the moment I get a hold of him...” I laughed because this was all crazy. I spoke to him last night. He and I were talking. He was lecturing me as always. Had a full day even gone by?
“Your Highness.”
I looked up to the strange man I did not know who was clearly lying to me. He held out a phone for me. “The Queen—”
I snatched it from him immediately. “Mother! Mother, what is going on? Is this some sort of sick joke? Are you all getting me back? It is not funny. Tell Arthur to get on the phone right now.”
She was silent.
“Mother! This is not true. And I do not want to yell at you, so get Arthur on the line. Please.”
“G-Gale.” A sob broke through.
I shook my head. “No. We are talking about Arthur. I do not care what anyone has told you. It’s Arthur, the health nut, the take a walk twice a day, flosses after every meal, Arthur. He’s not dying any time soon. He’s going to live to be a hundred and twelve. So, for the third time, please put him on the phone, Mother. Please. Please put him on the phone.”
She exhaled once before speaking.
“Gale, you are now the Adelaar. You are the crown prince of a nation, you need...” She fought back a sob. “You need to take a moment and gather yourself. Remember what I told you before you left. We are all looking for someone to save us, but no one will come because we are the people who must do the saving. That is what the monarchy, the crown does—we press on. So the country can, too. I will see you when you return. Be safe. I love you.”
This was not real.
This could not be real. I looked back over to everyone else.
“Get out.”
“Sir—”
“Get out! That is an order...as your...as...your...I command you to leave me the hell alone!”
And it had to be true because they listened to my order. They left, one by one, and when they were gone, I collapsed onto my knees, my whole body giving out under the weight of the world that was now on top me.
The one my father and Arthur held up.
It was now on me.
I could not breathe.
I wanted to breathe.
“Gale...”
I flinched at the touch. Looking up, my vision of her blurred from behind my own tears. “Odette?”
“I’m here,” she whispered, wrapping her hands around me. “I’m right here.”
“It’s my brother...it’s Arthur. How could it be Arthur?”
He wept in my arms. He begged me to tell him it was all a nightmare. Then he wept more. And all I could do was hold him and cry with him. It wasn’t going to be okay. It was going to hurt for the rest of his life. I hated it when people had told me that after my father had died. It was never okay. And I wished so badly he never would know that...but he did, and I felt so powerless.
I don’t know how long we were like that, but when the sobbing ended, I managed to help him off the floor and onto one of the chairs. I tried to give him water, but he shook me off.
“I thought...I was preparing for my father, begging God to spare my father, and instead, he took my brother.” He shut his eyes, shaking his head. “My mother was right. We are cursed—
“No, you are not.”
“You do not understand.” He sniffed, cleaning his nose. “In every generation of my family, there are these three major miseries or tragedies. People call it the Monterey curse. My grandfather lost three of his children, back-to-back, in freak accidents. His father, my great grandfather, lost Ersovia to the Nazis, his wife and their sister were caught and killed before he was exiled. It goes on and on, and I never thought much of it. Now it is our turn. My father’s brain is deteriorating, which caused him to squander our wealth, and now my brother...my brother dies in a plane crash? How is that not a curse, Odette! I never believed before—”
“Don’t start believing now,” I whispered, taking his face into my hands, but he closed his eyes, trying to pull away. “Gale! Do not start to believe in it now. Misery and tragedy can find anyone. Am I cursed, too? For my pain? No. I’m human. You are human, and you are heartbroken. And it is easy at this moment to believe that the world is out to break the rest of you. It is easier to believe that you are cursed than to believe that you are just like everyone else suffering a loss.”
“I am not, Odette. I am a prince. Now the crown prince. How? I can’t. That’s Arthur’s spot. Only his...until his heir takes the throne and their heir—not me. Never me.” Tears slipped from his eyes again.
“When you are with me, you are Gale,” I whispered, putting my head to his. “You are just a man—my husband. And you are in pain. I understand. But please, please, don’t give up believing you can survive this. You will survive this. It doesn’t feel like it. It will take every fiber of your being, but you can. It is not a curse. It is life, and you can’t let it beat you.”
He held onto the sides of my face. And we stayed like that as he took deep breaths. “How am I supposed to know what the right thing to do is?” he muttered. “My brother always knew.”
“I don’t know.” I wished I did. I wished I knew how to help him. “I know nothing about what it means to be you right now. I just know you can only do what you think is right and wait for the world to let you know if you are wrong. Take it step-by-step. What must you do right now?”
“I...have to go back home,” he replied.
“So, go.”
He stared into my eyes for a moment, and then he kissed my lips once before we separated. “You will need to stay here. When everything is settled...I...will send for you. All right?”
“All right.” I nodded.
His eyes shifted to the door, and he exhaled, cleaning his eyes of the tears, but he still couldn’t manage to get up. And so, we waited until he could. I wasn’t going to rush him, and I would fight anyone who did.
I managed to stand but could not go out. Instead, I asked Odette to call the rest of them back in, and when they came, they all came. I could see they were all waiting for me. Part of me wondered if they cared that Arty was gone. Did they weep? Did they hold a moment of silence? Or did they just look for who had the power now?
“I do not even know who you are. And yet you are the first one to tell me my brother is dead,” I said to the balding man with a gray mustache and brown glasses in front me.
“I am Dennis Parlevliet, International Liaison Officer for the Ersovian government.”
“I was under the impression that all international liaison officers were stationed in Washington, DC, with the ambassador, not Washington state? I am rusty on my American geography, but that is on the other side of this country, is it not?”
“We were notified when you came, and I was sent to make sure no incident—”
“So, you have been spying on me? Was that at my brother’s request or the government’s?”
He stood straighter. “I did not spy. I was simply to be around should there be any incident that could affect—”
“That was not my question. And I am not seeking to have you fired or investigated. I am merely trying to understand, Mr. Parlevliet, so answer my question,” I repeated, beyond tired.
“Prince Arthur. He said that should the press find out you were here, you would need help returning, and I was to be on standby for you. He did not, however, tell me the nature of your visit,” he answered, and his eyes shifted to Odette behind me.
That was Arthur.
He had a plan, then a backup, and two more backups just to be safe.
“I assume arrangements have been made for me to go home?”
He nodded, pushing the glasses back up his nose. “We have arranged for you to fly back. It will not be the royal plane, of cours
e, but not to worry, you will have space as we rebooked the other—”
“Do not cancel anyone’s flights,” I said.
“Sir?”
“If you did cancel, then reinstate them. They deserve to go home, too. When everything is ready, come get me, and we will go.”
“All of us, sir?” His eyes shifted back to Odette.
“Just me.”
He nodded.
When he walked away, I looked to Iskandar, who stood like the soldier he was, waiting for orders, too.
“Sir, if you get on that plane, people will know it is you and that you were here.”
“Eventually, they will know anyway and wonder why I hid that I was here.” I no longer had a place to hide.
Turning back, I saw Odette, and I wanted to go back just a few hours to when I thought I would never stop laughing. Now I was scared I would never laugh again.
This hurt. This hurt so much.
There was no long goodbye. There was barely one at all.
One moment he was here.
The next, I watched his plane take off from the private lounge, and I was alone. The mass of people who had first surrounded us had disappeared. It took me five minutes just to figure out how to get out. And when I did, the car they had parked had most likely been towed away, by bomb squad or something. I had to take a taxi back home, and thank God I had cash because my card was still declined. Everything felt colder now...and so much quieter. It was almost like he had never existed now that he wasn’t near me anymore. Like I’d finally woken up from a precious dream.
But when I got back into my penthouse, I saw evidence that he had, in fact, been here. The pillows were still all over the floor. One of his hats—he hadn’t been able to decide which would be the better one to go out with—was still on the corner of the couch.
“You’re back. Thank God!”
Turning around, I saw my mother, dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, which was not normal for her at all. Her short blonde hair looked frizzy and dry. She rushed down the stairs and gave me a hug.
