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“That’s kind, Mother.” My words cut the air like tiny daggers. “You’re willing to let me have a say in my future?”
“Leo, it’s not that we’re unwilling, but tell me one relationship from your past that has proved beneficial, let alone longstanding?” Her brow lifted with the passive-aggressive challenge she knew I couldn’t meet.
Unfortunately, the only name that popped into my head was not one I could speak. Frustration for my constraints burned like embers on my tongue. Looking rather smug at her apparent win, Mother continued, “When it comes to women you—“
“I’m not staying here to have you berate me about my love life.” I rose and reversed my steps, needing space between us. “You act like this will be some whirlwind romance, but you’re expecting me to fall in love in a month. And,” my tone tilted toward hysteria, but I didn’t care, “you’re making a spectacle out of me!” With a sweeping motion, I waved my arm in front of me, as if I were a ringmaster commanding the spotlight. “Come see our Crown Prince, the failure who’ll never marry.”
Mother’s face twisted as if I’d hurt her. “It’s a compromise. If used wisely, it can lay the foundation for a future marriage filled with romance. It sounds like a fairytale, Leonidas.”
“Maybe to you. And maybe to anyone watching, but in reality, this is my life. This is my future.” I took another step away from them. “You’re playing with it like I’m a piece on a game board, but maybe I’m tired of playing.”
They exchanged a quick, worried glance. Mother’s lips parted, but it was Father who broke the silence with his words. “What are you saying, Son?”
“If this is the future you want for me, if this is the plan, maybe I don’t want to rule at all.” I turned away and stalked from the room. I left the palace, headed for the stable.
To the outside eye, my life appeared fanciful. But living it was a distinct reality. The only child of a queen thought barren. I was their last hope of a successor and that weight had crushed me for years.
Dusty air flooded my nostrils as I entered the stable. The flecks of grime clung to my skin, newly damp from the foggy air. Axlan nickered at the sight of me. My black gelding nodded his thick head, as if encouraging me to hurry. He recognized my mood. Some days, a hard ride through the foggy moors was the only way to ease my frustrations.
The gate latch snapped back and I entered Axlan’s stall, running my open palm over his onyx coat. Approaching footsteps brought my head around. Annoyance pricked my heart, hating that someone would dare intrude on my solitude.
My advisor, Reginald, stepped into view. “Your Highness, apologies for the interruption, but I have a letter for you.”
Immediately, my mood shifted. “From…” I didn’t dare say her name.
“Yes,” Reginald tried his best to hide his disapproval, but his face typically rested on that setting, “from her.”
Grabbing the small envelope from the silver tray, I started toward the back of Axlan’s stall. “That will be all, Reginald. Thank you.”
“Very good, Your Highness.” I didn’t turn to watch him exit, but I had the envelope open before I heard him leave the stable.
I kept the letter in one hand as I started brushing Axlan’s coat. Flecks of sand and tiny hairs drifted over the paper as I read, but the memories flooded my mind, taking me back to the one person who understood me best.
When I was fourteen, I begged my parents to let me have a year in foreign exchange. I wanted to know what it was like to be a normal teenager without the duties of a country hanging over me.
The debate began immediately. The risks were too great. Kidnapping, ransom, international incidents, you name it. But I had a distant cousin in America who offered to be my host family. Her husband was a police officer and had served in the military. He offered to act as my bodyguard. The school I would attend was top-notch, nothing like I had wanted originally, but it was non-negotiable and I wanted desperately to get away.
Thankfully, on the first day of school, I met Coco.
Her real name was Michaela Caldwell, a student on scholarship who felt as out of place as I did at the academy. We became fast friends and were nearly inseparable for the entire year. I had to promise my parents before I left that I would never disclose my royal heritage while in America, but for Coco, I couldn’t resist. I wanted her to truly know me.
Granted, she didn’t believe me.
I didn’t mind. For the first time in my life, I had a proper friend who didn’t care about my status and called me Fitz because Leonidas Fitzborough was too much for my scrawny frame to carry.
I lengthened my strokes over Axlan’s coat, drawing closer to him to fight against the biting cold. Snow hadn’t fallen yet, but winter had definitely descended upon Nolcovia.
When I left America, I was supposed to cut all ties. My parents wanted that chapter of my life closed with no record that it had happened. Strict prohibition was placed on any form of communication. They monitored everything in my life. Everything but my post.
To keep our friendship secret, we started exchanging letters. It had been fifteen years that we’d been writing back and forth. Like a lifeline to my past, I cherished each piece of post she sent. In a sense, it was only because of Coco that I’d returned home, committed to my future on the throne. Because when Coco looked at me, it was the first time I truly felt like I could be a king.
In reality, Michaela was the one person I knew I could depend on. My title or wealth did not sway her. She knew who I was beyond all that. She knew what I wanted before I did. Leaning against Axlan, I read the first lines again and let her voice drift through my mind.
Dear Fitz,
It’s not easy being a princess, even if I only play one for children’s parties. At least the tips are good. How do you manage the royal pressure?
Her teasing had never stopped. Even after all these years, she still didn’t believe I was a prince. In jest, she even signed every letter: Royally Yours.
