by Ember Casey
“Viktor?”
She gives a small, solemn nod. “He’s been struggling. But he’s trying.”
I follow her down the corridor through the building. The Montovian City Academy is one of the finest schools in our small country, funded by the crown itself. Many of the students live right here in the capital and return home each night, but there is also a small contingent of students whose families live farther away. Nearly two dozen of the students board here, away from their families. Viktor is one of those students.
Most of the days, students have already gone home for the evening. The remaining students are still here, either working on assignments or participating in some of the school’s extracurricular activities. Even from here inside, I can hear the delighted screams and laughter of the children playing in the small park behind the school.
Franziska leads me to a small classroom where about a dozen students are working. A couple are hard at work, while others have their heads bent together, talking and giggling. Viktor sits in the corner, staring out the window.
Franziska clears her throat, and all of them look up at me.
“We have a special visitor today, children,” she says, smiling.
Most of them leap out of their seats, running over to me. I come here so often that we’ve done away with most formalities. A couple of the children attempt to bow or curtsy to me, but several others run right up to me. One little girl—Diana—throws her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.
Only Viktor remains in his seat. He’s still staring out the window.
“I knew you weren’t dead!” Diana says. “I told my papa you weren’t!”
“Do you have any scars?” asks Wolfgang, whom everyone calls Wolf.
“Were you scared?” That’s Lydia. “My mama cried when she saw the news. Isabella did, too.”
“I did not!” says Isabella.
I greet each of them in turn, answering their questions as best I can.
“All right, that’s enough,” Franziska says after a moment. “Return to your work. His Highness is here to help you with your academics. Let’s show him how much you’ve learned since he’s been gone.”
I walk to the desks one by one, complimenting the children on their work and suggesting a correction or two where necessary. A good ruler must lead by example and inspire with kindness and discipline. I want every citizen of Montovia, from the young to the elderly, to know that my life is devoted to helping them and being the best king I can be.
Finally, I find myself in front of Viktor’s desk.
He still refuses to look at me. I grab a chair and pull it up to the desk, sitting down next to him.
“Hello, Viktor,” I say. “How is your math coming?”
Viktor doesn’t respond.
“That looks like some fairly advanced algebra on your page there,” I say. “At this rate, you’ll soon be teaching your classmates how to do these equations.”
Still no response.
I lean back in my chair. “You know, Viktor, it will take more than a plane crash to kill me.”
He finally looks at me, but his expression is guarded. “Everyone said you were dead.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I was lost in the wilderness. No one knew where I was for several days, but I was doing everything in my power to find help and get back to Montovia.”
He presses his lips together, and his nose scrunches slightly. He looks away from me again, blinking rapidly. It’s plain to see that he’s trying not to cry.
“Can I tell you a secret, Viktor?” I say, leaning closer.
He nods without looking at me.
“I was very scared. When my plane went down, when I thought I might die, I was terrified.” It feels surprisingly good to admit that out loud. “When I was lost in the wilderness, there were many times I thought that fear might overtake me.”
His wide eyes flick to me. “What did you do?”
“I remembered why I had to live. There was someone with me when my plane crashed—someone I wanted to protect. And I knew I needed to get back to Montovia to protect the Montovian people, too. To fulfill all the promises and commitments I’ve made to the people of this country. That includes my commitment to help you with your studies, Viktor.”
His eyes have filled with tears, and he sniffles, fighting them back.
“You gave me the strength to survive,” I tell him. “You and everyone else in this country. You made me brave and helped me overcome my fear.” I straighten in my seat. “It’s all right to be afraid, Viktor. It’s all right to be sad when something has happened to someone you care about. Or to be confused. Everyone feels these things.”
“Even you?”
“Even me. Princes and kings and schoolteachers and children. Everyone. But you know what helps me?”
He sniffles. “What?”
“Remembering all the reasons I have to be strong. Even if you’re afraid or sad or confused, remembering those things will always help you stay on the right course.”
Viktor wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “I wasn’t afraid. Or sad.”
“I never said you were,” I say gently. “But someday you might be, and maybe then it will help you.”
He nods. “I’ll remember.”
“I know you will. You have a very good memory.” I smile. “Have you memorized all of your capital cities yet?”
“Half of them.” He wipes his face again and pushes his paper toward me. “Headmistress says I can do math faster than she can now. Do you want to see?”
“Of course.”
I spend the next half hour with Viktor, then another hour walking around the school and visiting with some of the other children. It’s strange—even though I’m simply fulfilling my princely duties, I feel freer here, among the children, than I do in most other areas of my life. Sometimes I forget how easy it is to be open with them, to be honest about things I’d never say to another adult.
I stand on the steps overlooking the park behind the school, watching the children play a game of tag.
One day soon you’ll have one of your own, I think. I don’t consider myself a particularly emotional person, let alone one given to silly displays of affection, but something warms in my chest at the thought of having a child of my own. Perhaps a son—a sharp-minded boy like Viktor, maybe. But a daughter would be just as delightful. There’s never been a female heir to the Montovian throne since my great-grandfather changed the inheritance laws several generations ago, but any daughter of mine would be well-prepared for the honor and responsibilities that awaited her.
In spite of myself, I find my thoughts drifting to Victoria. Victoria has several traits I wouldn’t mind seeing in a daughter—strength of character, courage, and integrity among them—but she lacks the refinement and political savvy any princess of Montovia would need to possess. And of course, any princess of Montovia would need to understand her duty to the country and its people, need to see that those needs come above everything else. That’s not something I believe Victoria will ever understand.
Why are you even thinking about her at all? I chastise myself. Victoria will have nothing to do with your daughter. It would be better to look for the traits you admire in one of your potential wives.
Lady Clarissa becomes less and less appealing the more time I spend with her, but I will continue to entertain her for my father’s sake. Hopefully one of the others will be better suited to the position—and to me.
Still, I’ve only just begun and already this pageant feels like a chore.
Remember why you’re doing this, I tell myself, watching the children. Remember who you’re doing this for. Your life is not your own. It belongs to these children. To all the people of Montovia. I have responsibilities to fulfill. Mistakes to undo. But I am determined to be the king these people deserve.
Soon everyone will know what I’ve done, but I’ll make it right. I have to. Even if it means putting my own needs—my own desires—aside.
Victoria
Dinner with Lady Clarissa was canceled tonight—the king is still away at his meeting with the senate and Andrew has taken off to God knows where. Maybe he really did go to the Academy. Or maybe he couldn’t stand the thought of being near me with his nearly-betrothed that close to him, too.
The break from Andrew is almost welcome, though. I’m able to get most of the first part of my initial story about Andrew and Clarissa’s courtship finished and ready for approval. It would have been nice to add a little more detail, but I suppose between the reception and what I observed in the limousine this afternoon, I have enough.
I even managed to get the detail about how Clarissa can’t seem to keep her hands off Andrew in there—not in such crass terms, of course. Andrew’s eyes gleamed at the Lady Clarissa’s touch. Or some bullshit line like that. It’s like trying to write some romance novel—the king and Prince Andrew were quite clear in how they want the story told. They want to make the Montovian people fall in love with both Andrew and his new bride, no matter which of the women he ultimately chooses.
There’s a knock at my door—I know better than to expect it will be Andrew this time, particularly since Lady Clarissa is right next door. Not that I’m expecting to see him at all tonight. After what happened in the limousine, I won’t be surprised if Andrew and his father decide to fire my ass.
I can’t believe how inappropriately I behaved. I can’t remember ever feeling anything like this before—the burning I feel in my chest when I see Andrew and Clarissa together is bad enough, but whatever that feeling is, it’s making me do some idiotic things. I’m not usually the jealous type, and I’m not sure why seeing him with someone else is setting me off like this. I’m not much of the flirting type, either, and I can’t believe how I was acting with William. Leading him on, almost trying to provoke a reaction from Andrew.
But it hadn’t worked. It had only made me look like a fool. And an unprofessional one at that.
A stout man is standing at the door when I open it. He bows his head slightly. “Ms. Simpson, I am Stephan. We have not had the pleasure of a formal introduction.”
I lift a brow. I’m pretty sure this is the asshole Elle told me about—the one who tried to ruin her life the first time she had come to the palace.
He lifts his gaze and nods. “His Royal Highness, Prince William, asked me to remind you that he will meet you in the gymnasium at eight o’clock.”
My eyes widen. “Oh. Right.” Fuck. I totally forgot about our fencing match tonight. And after what happened last night with Andrew I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for me to be alone with any of the royal brothers right now.
He gives me another shallow bow before he turns and walks back down the corridor.
I change my clothes and head for the gym. At least I know Andrew won’t be there. He won’t risk anyone discovering what happened between us last night. And he probably won’t risk it happening again at all.
And why should he? He has a willing woman right next door.
That’s why it’s okay for you to fence William tonight. That’s why it’s fine for you to flirt with him if you want. It’s true—whatever common bond Andrew and I might share hasn’t stopped him from publicly dating a woman right in front of me. It certainly didn’t stop him from allowing her to be all over him today, only a few hours after I left his bed. If I meant anything to him, he would have called a halt to all of this bullshit.
But you don’t mean anything to him.
I stop on the gravel path and close my eyes for a second at the thought. How stupid can I be? Of course I mean nothing to him. Even if we are “friends” now, what happened last night didn’t really mean anything. It shouldn’t have meant anything to me, either. And until this moment, I guess I hadn’t realized that it had. And that has to be why I’ve been behaving so stupidly.
When I arrive at the gym, William is already there. He’s dressed in full gear except for a mask, practicing his footwork. He looks up at me and smiles, lifting his épée in a greeting. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.”
“Well, you were kind enough to send me a reminder. Besides, I agreed yesterday.” I smile. “I didn’t think it would be polite to refuse now.”
He walks over to the wall and pulls down a jacket and chest protector for me.
I pull them on and take a mask from the shelf before I choose a practice épée.
I walk over to my mark and we each go through the formal greeting before taking our ready positions.
William doesn’t seem nearly as hesitant to engage me as Andrew had been night before last. He’s also much more skilled than his brother. I’m rusty, for sure—I hadn’t picked up an épée in almost seven years before a few nights ago.
I score the first point, using his lack of control of the distance between us to my advantage.
He lifts his mask and grins. “You’re quite good.”
I shrug and lift my weapon to its ready position again.
“Sophia mentioned you had fenced in college. I’m afraid I’ve never fenced more than recreationally, though I always enjoyed it.” He lifts his épée and we engage again.
“I always enjoyed it, too.”
He smiles through his mask. He’s acclimating quickly to my usual line of attack and changes his approach, scoring a point. “Ah, point to me. I wasn’t sure I would be able to score at all tonight.” He chuckles. “In our fencing match, of course.”
I lift a brow, though I doubt he can see it through my mask. “Of course.”
I score the next three points before he catches on to what I’m doing, changing his method of defending against my attacks.
He finally scores another point, but quickly reengages me. “It’s a pity you’re not a Montovian citizen, Victoria. I’m sure we could use someone like you to assist with our rather pathetic national fencing team. And as far as I’m aware, we’ve never had a women’s team.”
“That is unfortunate.” He’s distracted by our conversation, and I use his distraction to score an easy point.
He laughs, giving me a shallow bow before he raises his weapon again.
We spar, each of us scoring points in turn. William is quick and powerful, and Sophia was right. We make a good match.
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve gone back to how it used to be—being able to lose myself in practice like this. Everything else that weighs so heavily on me all the time seems to have fallen away. The plane crash. My job. How I came to live in Los Angeles.
Andrew.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been sparring—it has to have been at least an hour. Probably more, considering how badly my wrist aches from holding my weapon for so long and by how drenched I am with sweat beneath my jacket.
“I want to try.” A woman’s voice is the first thing that interrupts me since William and I began our practice.
I pull off my mask before I turn and see Andrew and Lady Clarissa seated against the far wall. I have no idea how long they’ve been watching, but I know I’m done. There’s no way I’m going to teach that woman how to fence.
Andrew stands up next to her. “It isn’t as easy as it looks. I would imagine that Victoria—”
She rolls her eyes, giving him a snobby laugh. “If she can do it, obviously I can, too.”
I glance over at William. He’s also pulled off his mask. He rolls his eyes at me before he grins, shaking his head. He turns his gaze to Andrew. “I’ll be glad to show her—”
“Andrew is quite capable of teaching me, I’m sure.” She turns to her date, pressing a hand against his chest. “Aren’t you, darling?”
I suppress my urge to vomit as I hang up my gear.
William walks up next to me, but doesn’t remove his gear. “That was very enjoyable.” He smiles. “I’d love to do this every night while you’re a guest at the palace if you’re available—”
“She’s not.” Andrew interrupts. He’s walked over to where William and I are standing and begins pulling down two sets of gear next to Willia
m. “She should have been at dinner tonight—”
“Dinner was canceled, Brother. Even I did not attend—”
Andrew lifts a brow. “We ate.” He throws a glance over at Clarissa, who is admiring her manicure. “Together. And if Lady Clarissa and I are together, Victoria should be there, too.”
I hang up the last of my gear, shaking my head. “That is bound to get a little awkward. And soon, by the looks of things.” My voice is acidic. “I don’t think I need to see much more. I already have your first story done.”
“Good. I’ll look at it tonight.”
I frown, almost glaring at him. “It’s well past working hours, Your Highness.”
William is looking between the two of us like he’s watching a tennis match. He holds out a hand to Andrew. “Here, give me the gear for your girlfriend. I’ll help her get it on while you two…do whatever it is you’re doing.”
“She is not my…girlfriend.” Andrew frowns. “Truth be told, I’m not sure—”
“Andrew, what is taking so long?” Clarissa has her hands on her hips and glares at us from across the room.
William smiles and takes the gear from Andrew’s hand, walking over to Clarissa.
“What are you doing?” I turn to Andrew, glaring myself. “Why did you come here?”
“I thought that would be obvious.” His tone is flat, almost bored.
“You thought what would be obvious?” I glance over my shoulder at Clarissa. “That you want to teach her how to fence?”
“I’m hardly the best person for that. I’m certain that William can teach her far better than I. And of course, you—”
“I am not teaching that woman anything. She can barely stand to be in the same room with me. You think I’m going to teach her how to hold an épée? And hear how she screeches when she chips her nail polish? No thanks.”
“I never asked you to teach her fencing. Someone of her station would never fence, anyway. But when I suggested that we come here to watch—”