Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  “I don’t believe I said I wouldn’t find a partner,” Gerald said. “I said I wouldn’t marry. I said I wouldn’t fall in love. I have done neither of those things and I will not do either of those things.”

  “We’re not in a romantic relationship,” Omar added. “Gerald doesn’t feel that way about me. About anyone. It’s not indulging him to acknowledge that!”

  “As I’ve told you,” Gerald said, “I’ve never felt that way. I’ve never even felt a hint of it. A marriage would give entirely the wrong impression of our situation. It would cause people to make assumptions. It would be a lie. I don’t want to marry Omar. I don’t want to go to bed with him. And I don’t want to have to justify myself for the rest of my life. You don’t believe me; you’ve never believed me. You’ve always said to wait until I’m older. Well, how old do I have to be before you’ll agree I simply don’t have those feelings?”

  When he got no response, he said, “I don’t want to wait for your approval. I’ve accepted I’m never going to get it. To be honest, at this point, I don’t know if I even want it. Would I prefer you believed me, you treated me like an adult, you trusted me to know my own mind? Of course. But right now, I will happily take your permission to abdicate, no matter how grudgingly given, and I will withdraw from your lives.”

  Mixte laid her hand on Danya’s arm before she could say anything in the heat of anger. “Gerald, this is a lot to take in. Surely you can concede that much.”

  “I’m not saying anything I haven’t said before,” Gerald pointed out. “Not to mention I sent a letter ahead.”

  “Reading it is a lot different than having you standing here telling us face-to-face,” she said gently. “Let us speak privately, please. This doesn’t only affect you. It’s your life, but when you’re a prince, your life is not entirely your own.”

  “One of the reasons I wish to abdicate. And, Mum, you should let me. If you don’t trust me enough to even know my own feelings, how could you possibly trust me with a kingdom?”

  Now it was Omar’s turn to put his hand on Gerald’s arm. “Let them talk,” he said softly.

  Gerald turned back to his parents. “How long do you need?”

  They exchanged glances. “We’ll send a page when we’re ready for you,” Mixte said. “Go. Give Prince Omar a tour.”

  Omar bowed, acknowledging the dismissal, and tugged at Gerald’s sleeve until he bobbed his head and turned away.

  It took just as long to cross the room in reverse, even without the weight of nervous anticipation dilating the distance, and when they finally reached the hall with the doors closed firmly behind them, Gerald had to stop and lean against the wall.

  “I need to sit down,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt,” he added quickly, seeing Omar’s expression. “I’m just…tired. Not tired enough to sit on the floor, but I’m getting there. Come on. My room’s not too far.”

  He pushed himself away from the wall with a bit of effort and started down the hall.

  “I’m sure we could get someone to bring a chair,” Omar said, but Gerald stubbornly pressed on down the hall. “If you collapse, I’m not picking you up,” Omar warned him, but he followed Gerald nevertheless.

  It was something of a near thing, but they did reach Gerald’s room without any major incidents. “Damn,” Gerald said, staring at the largely empty space. “I forgot about the bed. I guess they left it in the tower…”

  “Well, there’s no reason I can’t stay standing,” Omar said. “But you—sit down before you fall down!” He pulled the desk chair out and all but shoved Gerald into it, and he was too relieved to get his weight off his leg to say anything about it.

  “So?” Gerald asked as he kneaded at his thigh and knee. “What do you think they’re going to say?”

  “They have to give in,” Omar said. “There’s no real reason not to let you abdicate. And surely they have to see how miserable everyone will be if they refuse. Not to mention the dragon waiting in their courtyard for just that eventuality… But Queen Mixte seemed reasonable. I think they’ll approve it, in the end.”

  “They still don’t believe me, though,” Gerald said. He wondered why that still hurt. I knew they weren’t going to. I knew it. And yet, I still hoped they would listen. But no, they still think I’m lying, or mistaken, that one day I’ll just wake up and fall in love! I suppose that’s better than them thinking something’s plain old wrong with me. But still… I wish they could understand.

  “I believe you,” Omar reminded him. “And they’ll come around eventually. Maybe not anytime soon,” he added when Gerald made a face. “But what you said, when you asked how old you would have to be before they would believe you—there was something on their faces, then. A flicker. At some point, they will have to admit you’re not…that you just don’t have, you know, romantic feelings.”

  “Better late than never, I suppose,” Gerald said. But his expression said it still hurt.

  Omar leaned over the back of the chair and wrapped Gerald up in a hug. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “If they can’t see how wonderful you are, that’s their problem. The dragon and I will appreciate you more than they ever could.”

  “This was such a stupid idea,” Gerald said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have even come back. I should’ve sent the letter and left it at that.”

  “It wasn’t stupid. It was the right thing to do. Running from your problems doesn’t solve them. At least this way, it’ll all be over. There won’t be anything hanging over your head.”

  Gerald leaned back into Omar’s arms and didn’t answer.

  When a knock on the door came to announce the queens were once again ready to receive them, that thought—it would soon be over—was the only thing that got Gerald out of his chair.

  They followed the page—who kept glancing at Gerald’s canes with wide eyes—not back to the Great Receiving Room, but to the study where Queen Danya had first confronted Gerald about the need for him to choose a role in the old rescuer/rescuee system.

  Omar frowned at the change in venue, but Gerald whispered, “Maybe this is a good sign. They’re not trying to intimidate us. Me.”

  He was less apprehensive, at least, when the steward announced them and bowed them into the room. There was a much shorter distance to cross to reach the queens, who were seated in chairs instead of thrones, on the floor instead of on a raised dais. The intended effect seemed to be one of equality rather than an appeal to authority, and there was another pair of empty chairs across from them—a fact Gerald’s bad leg very much appreciated.

  Omar bowed and Gerald bobbed his head and Mixte said, “Please, be seated.”

  Once they settled, she exchanged a long look with Danya while Gerald’s stomach clenched with nerves. Finally, Danya nodded stiffly and Mixte started speaking again.

  “We would like to discuss this informally, as a family, rather than as monarchs to princes. Your mother and I do love you, Gerald, as hard as it seems to be for you to see that. We do want the best for you. And we can see that, perhaps, as difficult as it may be for us to acknowledge it, being here is not the best thing for you.”

  Gerald’s eyes widened. “You can?”

  “It’s apparent our attempts to ensure your happiness have not worked the way we would have hoped,” Mixte said with a regretful look at his canes. “Keeping you here would only cause you to resent us further. No, there’s no need to deny it. We know that, for whatever reason, we haven’t done as well by you as we have with the others. Even if we can’t undo that, there is no point in making things worse.”

  “However,” Danya interrupted. “We do not agree you should abdicate.”

  Mixte laid a restraining hand on her arm and continued quickly before Gerald could respond. “Yet,” she said. “We do not agree you should abdicate yet. Hear us out, please, Gerald. We will give you our support to found the sanctuary you mentioned in your letter. You will have our full permission to travel as far from Andine as you wish; you will not be summo
ned back to the capital; you will not be given any diplomatic responsibilities on your travels. We simply don’t want to…formalize the arrangement immediately.

  “It’s not that we don’t trust you to know your own mind,” she added. “But circumstances change. We don’t want to remove any of our options too soon. You can abdicate at any time, after all, but once done…it is not so simple to add you back into the line of succession. This is not a ‘no’, Gerald. It’s a precaution. If, on your twentieth birthday, you are still determined to abdicate, we will give you our blessing. In the meantime… We hope perhaps a little distance will help us come back together as a family.”

  Gerald stared at her, at both of his mothers; Mixte, her expression a mixture of love and worry, and Danya, who was as unreadable as ever. It was both more than he ever expected to hear and less than he hoped, but it was enough. It was more than enough.

  “Mother?” he said softly, willing Danya to let her expressionless mask slip. “You agree with Mum? You’ll let me go, and live my own life, and see how it all plays out?”

  “My interventions have not worked as I have wished,” she said. “With Mixte taking your side and a dragon in my courtyard, I don’t have another choice, do I?”

  “Mother…”

  “I hope it teaches you a lesson,” she said, before brushing off Mixte’s arm, standing up, and striding away.

  Gerald watched her go, wondering why each new rejection hurt just as much as all the ones before it. Omar reached over and squeezed his hand and Gerald dragged up a wobbly smile. “I just had to press my luck,” he said. “She’s never approved of me before. I don’t know why I thought she would start now.”

  “You’re too alike, the pair of you,” Mixte said, a statement that caused Gerald to stare at her in blind astonishment. Not once in his life had anyone suggested he was anything like Queen Danya. She saw his expression and smiled gently. “At the core,” she said, “you are both stubborn as mules. She knows this is the right thing to do, Gerald. Right for you, right for us, right for Andine. But she can’t admit it. Don’t hold it against her. I love you, dear, and she does too. She’ll come around.”

  Mixte stood up, gave a surprised Omar a hug, and kissed Gerald on the forehead. “Go on, then. Take your young man and prove her wrong.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. Omar pulled him to his feet, and hand-in-hand, they went to find the dragon and get started.

  About the Author

  A. Alex Logan is an asexual, agender librarian from New York state. Always an avid reader, Alex has branched out from reading books to writing them. Alex's other main interest is soccer, which they enjoy watching, playing, and (of course) reading about.

  Twitter: @aalexlogan

  Website: www.almostalmost.wordpress.com

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