Page 4
Story: Royal Reluctance
It was like when I was swimming and got caught in the undertow. I didn’t fight or flail because I knew there was nothing Icould do but surrender and let it drag me down. Listening to Bo say those things, I let myself be dragged down.
Until Mabel pulled me up.
She dragged me to my feet after Bo. It was Mabel who told me to get out of Laandia. Granted, she had been telling me that all of my life, but this time I listened. And Mabel worked with someone in the castle to help because the press was still swarming after Queen Selene’s death and to see the girlfriend of Prince Bo fleeing town like a criminal would have led the swarm straight to me.
Bo had always hated the press. The lack of privacy. The demands that the people have a right to know more about him, intimate details that he doesn’t want to share.
No one should want to share their first kiss with the public.
I hunch my shoulders, my hands digging into my pockets. Eight years away will make you forget just how brutally cold a March wind can be blowing in from the Atlantic. The sun is bright but offers no warmth. I clearly don’t have enough clothing packed to keep warm during my visit and I never even thought to bring gloves.
I am not ready for any of this. I’m not ready for the cold, I’m not ready to deal with my family, and I’m definitely not ready to see Bo.
“How did you get the job at The King’s Hat?” I ask instead. There were a few surprises when I got back into town yesterday, but one of the big ones was that my big sister Mabel is now the manager of the pub owned by Prince Kalle.
Mabel smirks, well aware of my dodging of her question but always willing to have the attention focused on her. “Edie hiredme. She’s going to be queen, you know? Guess there’s not enough time to run a bar and prep for that.”
“Yes, we get news of the royal family of Laandia all the way over in British Columbia,” I tell her drily.
“I didn’t know if you ignore news about them like you do our family.” There’s no bitterness or disappointment in Mabel’s tone. I don’t have much in common with Mabel, and never have, but one thing we can agree on is that we’d much rather be part of any other family than the one we are saddled with.
And she does have a point. I haven’t gone out of my way to search for news of King Magnus and his family since I left, but I don’t turn off the television when there is a story featuring them either.
Like Prince Kalle’s engagement to Edie England. I also watched coverage of Prince Odin’s wedding to Lady Camille and his subsequent abdication.
I couldn’t help thinking about how I would have been at that wedding if things had been different.
“I don’t ignore news about the royals or anyone,” I say.
“You should,” Mabel scoffs. “You’re how far away from here? It’s a lot easier to pretend the fam doesn’t exist from there than be like me and try to hide my head in the sand every time one of our idiot brothers breaks into somewhere else, or starts a fight. Or refuses to pay their pay tab.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
“So?” she presses.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I admit. “But it’s time, don’t you think?”
Mabel snorts. “I think it’s way past time. But why now?”
I’ve kept in contact with Mabel over the years, but she doesn’t know what the years have been like for me.
I’m not about to get into it now.
And Mabel knows I’m not about to talk about it. “And Abigail came back with you?” she asks instead.
Abigail Locke has been my best friend since I was born, seeing as her mother shared a hospital room with mine. We were born seven hours apart and not a day has gone by where we haven’t talked. When I made the move to British Columbia, Abigail never questioned whether she would come with me—she just quit her job and bought a one-way ticket.
“She did. She’s at her mom’s. I’m staying there.”
“I would.”
The house we grew up in had always been full of tension and toxicity, and the one good thing about leaving had been knowing I didn’t have to live with that any longer.
Mabel wouldn’t let me feel guilty about leaving her behind.
I crouch and pick up a piece of blue glass worn smooth from the waves. Mabel would always bring me here when things got bad at home.
They were bad a lot.
Until Mabel pulled me up.
She dragged me to my feet after Bo. It was Mabel who told me to get out of Laandia. Granted, she had been telling me that all of my life, but this time I listened. And Mabel worked with someone in the castle to help because the press was still swarming after Queen Selene’s death and to see the girlfriend of Prince Bo fleeing town like a criminal would have led the swarm straight to me.
Bo had always hated the press. The lack of privacy. The demands that the people have a right to know more about him, intimate details that he doesn’t want to share.
No one should want to share their first kiss with the public.
I hunch my shoulders, my hands digging into my pockets. Eight years away will make you forget just how brutally cold a March wind can be blowing in from the Atlantic. The sun is bright but offers no warmth. I clearly don’t have enough clothing packed to keep warm during my visit and I never even thought to bring gloves.
I am not ready for any of this. I’m not ready for the cold, I’m not ready to deal with my family, and I’m definitely not ready to see Bo.
“How did you get the job at The King’s Hat?” I ask instead. There were a few surprises when I got back into town yesterday, but one of the big ones was that my big sister Mabel is now the manager of the pub owned by Prince Kalle.
Mabel smirks, well aware of my dodging of her question but always willing to have the attention focused on her. “Edie hiredme. She’s going to be queen, you know? Guess there’s not enough time to run a bar and prep for that.”
“Yes, we get news of the royal family of Laandia all the way over in British Columbia,” I tell her drily.
“I didn’t know if you ignore news about them like you do our family.” There’s no bitterness or disappointment in Mabel’s tone. I don’t have much in common with Mabel, and never have, but one thing we can agree on is that we’d much rather be part of any other family than the one we are saddled with.
And she does have a point. I haven’t gone out of my way to search for news of King Magnus and his family since I left, but I don’t turn off the television when there is a story featuring them either.
Like Prince Kalle’s engagement to Edie England. I also watched coverage of Prince Odin’s wedding to Lady Camille and his subsequent abdication.
I couldn’t help thinking about how I would have been at that wedding if things had been different.
“I don’t ignore news about the royals or anyone,” I say.
“You should,” Mabel scoffs. “You’re how far away from here? It’s a lot easier to pretend the fam doesn’t exist from there than be like me and try to hide my head in the sand every time one of our idiot brothers breaks into somewhere else, or starts a fight. Or refuses to pay their pay tab.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
“So?” she presses.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I admit. “But it’s time, don’t you think?”
Mabel snorts. “I think it’s way past time. But why now?”
I’ve kept in contact with Mabel over the years, but she doesn’t know what the years have been like for me.
I’m not about to get into it now.
And Mabel knows I’m not about to talk about it. “And Abigail came back with you?” she asks instead.
Abigail Locke has been my best friend since I was born, seeing as her mother shared a hospital room with mine. We were born seven hours apart and not a day has gone by where we haven’t talked. When I made the move to British Columbia, Abigail never questioned whether she would come with me—she just quit her job and bought a one-way ticket.
“She did. She’s at her mom’s. I’m staying there.”
“I would.”
The house we grew up in had always been full of tension and toxicity, and the one good thing about leaving had been knowing I didn’t have to live with that any longer.
Mabel wouldn’t let me feel guilty about leaving her behind.
I crouch and pick up a piece of blue glass worn smooth from the waves. Mabel would always bring me here when things got bad at home.
They were bad a lot.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114