Page 69 of Royal Pain

Our mother reaches for Kwai’s hand. He half-heartedly allows it.

“You’re right. How did you know?” she asks.

“The Homeland Secretary told me. I’d said something about when I become king and he responded with an ‘Ifyou become king’ answer.”

“So that tells me the question has been posed before to them. They’ve most likely considered the possibility. Good. When I tell my Cabinet I want their support. And even if I don’t get it, I’ll go to the people.”

“Wait. Don’t tell anybody. I need time to process this. Shit! Is this really happening?” I say.

My mind is a wall. But peeking around it is my Belinda, who watches and waits. Meanwhile, my brother looks defeated.

* * *

An hour later I’m walking out of the palace. But I’m still inside my head. Kwai asked to skip the remainder of the meeting. I didn’t blame him. Neither did my mother. She was glad it went as smoothly as it did. I reminded her he really doesn’t want the job. Not even a little bit. But we’re bound to hear a few more protestations from him, before he accepts the inevitable.

“I want you to find a place for him, Zan.”

“Me?”

“You can find something in your Cabinet that’s befitting a prince. This will be your first goal.”

“I haven’t accepted the offer, Mother.”

Her big brown eyes have always seen beyond the surface of me. She looks inside now.

“You must do what you feel is right. You’ll know, son. If you find yourself considering what is good for you, your answer will be ‘no’. If you can’t stop thinking about what’s right for Mozians, you are the king.”

Those words play on a loop in my mind as I walk back to my house. Repeat. Repeat. And at the same time I’m just trying to take in the idea. King? It’s an honor I never imagined. King Zan. His Highness the King of Mozia. His Majesty will be addressing the nation. What the hell, man? You’re acting like a girl writing her boyfriend’s last name after hers, imagining they’re married.

Belinda? That’s the biggest puzzle piece connecting everything around. She’d have to agree to this kind of life. What if she’d rather keep her privacy, free time, and independence? Would I respectfully decline what may be my destiny? Mozia and my mother would have to find their king elsewhere.

Because no matter what, she’s going to be my wife. In my world or hers.