She wiped at her eyes and burst into her family’s quarters in the palace.
Her mom held out her arms and Amara ran into them. “Did you see?”
The nod brought a new sense of sadness, knowing that her parents were caught up in the insults as well as Amara. ”I’m so sorry I let you down.”
“What! Honey, no. You did not let us down.” Her mother’s soft hands at the sides of her face were comforting. “We have never been more proud. We know what you two were doing, and it was certainly not just standing around kissing.”
Amara laughed. “Well, there was a little bit of that, as you saw.”
Her father chuckled. “I wondered when you two were ever going to admit you were in love.”
His words shook her. In love. She loved Arlo, but she didn’t think he really loved her, not enough. And perhaps she didn’t love him enough either. “Well, I don’t know what good it did, as now the entire country is angry at me and his parents hate me.”
“They don’t hate you. They love you and our family.”
“As long as I’m not with their son.”
“They just don’t understand because they haven’t seen you two together like we have. They’ll see. Don’t you worry. It’s too obvious for them to miss. They’ll see that the both of you do your best stuff when you’re together.”
Her mother’s words sunk deep inside, and Amara tossed them around, considering. “That’s perceptive of you, Mom.”
“Well, what do you expect? I’m your mother, aren’t I?
“Yes, you most certainly are” Amara shook her head. “But I’m done. I can’t live like that.” She frowned. “I think I’ll go back to Prague early, maybe look for a job.”
Her dad shook his head. “No, you will not. No daughter of mine is going to run from her country when it’s in need because of some man.”
“Some man.” Amara snorted. “The prince of her country?”
“He’s still a man. And he loves you. Stay. Use all that disaster relief training you’ve received to help Karpathos.” Her mother put an arm around her shoulder. “I know that’s what you really want to be doing anyway. You’re itching to get out there.”
Amara knew they were right. “Okay, I’ll grab my tent and pack, and I’ll see you in a week or so.”
“That’s our girl.” Dad smiled when Amara kissed his cheek.
So she left—without telling anyone but her parents. Arlo had tried to reach out. His texts were left unanswered. Amara just knew they were better off if they stayed apart, at least for now. And maybe forever. It was especially important that they stayed out of sight of any camera, news or otherwise. After about a week of exploring and then settling in, Amara camped herself in the center of a first aid tent in the worst hit part of the island.
They were still searching for some survivors, the few that were not accounted for yet. And soon, they would begin the arduous task of cleaning out and gutting their houses. All the water damage, all the stagnant waste needed to be cleared, furniture thrown away, walls torn out and replaced. And she was heavy into organizing and planning the relief crews’ work.
The most humbling part of her experience was the reaction of those from the other side of the island who were determined and anxious to help. They’d already started arriving with sledgehammers, face masks, gloves, and teams of people. Long trains of Jeeps and other vehicles pulled into their part of the island, full of people ready to work.
Amara listened to the team leader, a man named Todd, explain the process to a group of new volunteers. “Just tear out the walls. Anything from the waist down needs to go. Clear out the debris. We’ll have collection trucks moving up and down the streets collecting all the refuse left in orderly piles on the sides of the streets.”
A father and his sons, a group of college-age kids—only five years younger than herself—older couples, younger teens, and one lone girl who seemed to be by herself.
Amara approached. “Where do you come from?”
“Oh, hi. I’m from Kansas.”
Amara racked her brain. “Is that in America?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. I guess you don’t know all our states.” She laughed nervously. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her makeup-free face made her look younger than Amara guessed she was. Her smattering of freckles brought a smile to Amara’s face. “I’m so glad you’re here. How did you manage it?”
“Oh, well, you know, I heard the storm was coming, so I purchased a ticket for a couple days after. I figured if there was damage I could help, if not, I’d have what looked like a gorgeous vacation.” She shrugged. “And looks like help is needed.”
Without thinking, Amara pulled her into a hug. “I don’t know what made you so giving and aware but thank you.”
She shrugged Amara away. Maybe she wasn’t into hugs. “Probably the same thing that brings you here.”
“True. This is my life focus, really. Disaster relief, non-profits. I’m getting my graduate degree studying this kind of stuff.”
“That’s so cool.”
The man finished his introduction and safety demonstration and began handing out bags and kits.
“Well, hey, it was great to meet you.”
“Thanks.” Amara watched her go, newly inspired to keep at it, to keep working even if Arlo’s family hated her. She was not working towards being worthy of him. She was working toward her dreams. If the royal family couldn’t see or understand her worth, then she didn’t need to be a part of their family.
A low, shuddering sigh left her lips. Even if she would be heartbroken and miss him her whole life, that great sadness might be better than living with him and always being seen as less than what his family and the country wanted her to be.
The next group arrived, and Amara prepared herself to start their training. But before she could say anything, a man held up a fancy camera and began taking her picture.
“Hey, that’s not really appropriate here. We’re trying to get some work done.”
“But aren’t you that gardener, the royal gardener?”
“She has a name.” Todd had come back, and he stood at her side.
Amara was grateful for his girth. She held out her hand. “I’m Amara Cohen, volunteer. Are you here to work or to take pictures of the rest of us doing our jobs?”
The newcomer took a couple more shots and then slipped the camera back in his pack. “Sure, I’ll help out. We all will.”
As Amara explained the procedure for cleaning out a house and talked about the potential hazards, their expressions changed. She hoped they began to at least understand the seriousness of what they were doing and perhaps their hearts were touched at the great loss of so many around them.
Either way, she was happy when they left. Maybe they’d learn something, maybe not, but at least they weren’t pointing a camera at her face waiting for her to do something newsworthy. Days went by, and they were able to move the tent further along to the next set of neighborhoods. Amara was pleased with their progress. Her arms and shoulders ached. She’d spent a good share of the time in the houses with a crowbar, separating out soggy drywall and wading through stagnant water.
They had only a small window of time to get the rest of the houses gutted before the conditions became too dangerous, before it was a health risk to be inside those structures. The original batch of volunteers had left, but she had heard a new stream of cars was heading their way. She hoped they’d arrive any minute.
As it was, she pulled on a new pair of gloves and prepared to spend the day in the next home on the street. Todd surprised her and stepped up to her side. “You gonna do this whole street by yourself?”
“I hope not.” She pulled her mask up over her nose and mouth. “You coming in?”
“Yup.” He pulled up his mask and they entered together.
Hours later, they were pulling stuff out of kitchen cabinets and lugging it out to the curb when a line of limos pulled down the street. Amara wanted to run when she saw the roya
l crest. But instead, she acted like she didn’t see it, wiped her forehead, and headed back into the house.
“We’ve got company.”
“What kind of company?” Todd called from inside the pantry.
“The royal kind.”
His head bonked into something before he pulled it out. “Really?”
“Yup.”
She walked into the other room, determined not to give the time of day to anyone who wasn’t willing to work beside her. She started yanking and pulling on the walls of the last room to be gutted. Wet, soggy drywall fell down around her in great clumps. She knew it must have caught in her hair, but she refused to care. Voices sounded muffled from the front of the house. She caught Todd’s voice and many she didn’t recognize, and then she heard one that sent all her awareness into overdrive.
Her hands started to shake, and her breath caught. With one hand on her head, she closed her eyes, steadying herself. Somehow, she had to be normal. She had to just work on this house. She lifted the crowbar, but it fell from her hands. This was too hard, dang it. She kicked the wall. Her boot went right through.
“Is that how it’s done?” Arlo entered, pulling on a pair of work gloves.
“No.” The tears of exhaustion welled in her eyes, and she wished them away.
He held up a hammer. “What do I do with this?” His goofy smile and his overexaggerated hammer swings made her laugh.
Grateful, she smiled a small, wobbly smile, but at least she managed one. “Let’s get this done. It’s our last one for the day.”
She took the hammer from him, swung back, and hit the wet wood at their feet. It bent in and folded on itself. “Like that. We’re clearing the soggy parts.”
He nodded. Then he started working in earnest. And Amara had to take a moment to appreciate his thick muscles straining against his shirt. The power of his movement sent thrills through her.
She had to force herself to pick up the crowbar again and begin tugging at the edges of the drywall. The sheets that came down all in one go were so satisfying. But most needed to be taken out in great chunks. And, as tedious as it was, she was used to the process. Before Arlo had arrived, it was strangely satisfying and time consuming. Now, she felt energized, aware, and incredibly tingly. That was the only word for it. Every part of her felt sensitive to his slightest movement.
With Arlo at her side, they worked until the room was cleared. She turned to him, her smile natural and relieved.
His mouth was covered with a mask. She knew she had never looked worse. But as their gazes connected, she saw joy. And a great sense of peace came over her. Arlo. Whatever they did was better when they were together. Hadn’t her parents said something similar? Why couldn’t anyone else see that?
He winked and then nodded that she should follow him back out toward the front door.
As soon as she walked outside, she wished she could go back in and hide. A whole news team stood on the front lawn. The king and queen were both there. Her parents were there. “What’s going on?” She stepped back, ready to turn and run.
But Arlo took off his mask. “They are here to talk to you if you want to talk. You don’t owe these people anything. They treated us both terribly. But I think you might like to hear what they have to say.”
She only saw sincerity where she looked for an agenda. So she took his offered hand, took off her own mask, and tried not to care that she must be covered in wet drywall. As they approached, she said only, “Hello.”
The king and queen came forward. “Amara.” The queen held out her hands. But Amara didn’t move.
“I understand if you don’t know exactly how to take this, coming from us. But I am here, we are here, to apologize for the way we’ve treated you, for the way we’ve thought of you. When I saw those videos, that footage…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she couldn’t continue.
Amara looked to her parents, who just stood with shining pride on their faces. Then she turned to Arlo. “What footage? What’s going on?”
The king put his arm around his wife. “Soon after you disappeared, the news stories about you and Arlo changed to a different story entirely.” He held up his phone. “I think showing you is the best way to explain.” She held it in her hands and pushed the triangle button to play the video.
And what she saw made her smile. “It’s the village.” She replayed in her mind the scene that she now saw from Arlo’s vantage point up in the caves. She ran into the clearing, carrying a child who looked to be half her size. She looked exhausted, weighed down. Then she saw herself lift the child up, refuse to be lifted herself, and then run back out of the clearing, toward danger. She choked up a bit when she saw herself return with Tahki. “That scamp.” She laughed. And Arlo stepped closer. She looked up. “They’re a good people. I’m glad they’re getting help.”
“There’s more.”
She looked back down, and to her surprise, the video started showing images of her in houses, whacking away at drywall, up to her knees in water, ripping apart walls, and dragging away an old rusty dishwasher all by herself until someone came and helped her. Then a close-up of her face in pain as she paused for a moment before going into the next house. Then the video ended with a caption. “A true Karpathosian. We love you Amara.” She gasped. “What! Who did this?” She looked down. It already had fifty thousand likes. “You had the video of the village.”
Arlo nodded. “I did. But apparently, the people of Karpathos have been calling in to refute the earlier stories, saying you’d saved them, or fixed their house, or fed their children, or any number of things. The people are doing this, Amara.” He tapped his phone a couple more times. “And then this started.” He held up an image, and her eyes blurred. “Amara for Queen. We want Amara.”
She choked. “What!”
“I’m telling you. They want you. They love you. I don’t even think they care if I’m a part of the process.” He shrugged. Then he got down on one knee. “Amara, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I cannot move forward without you in my life. I want more than anything to live my life with you at my side, and the people want you as their queen. Would you do me the great honor of being my wife and the queen of Karpathos, someday?”
His face shone with love and joy.
She looked to his parents. And they too smiled in full support. Her parents nodded, and her mother hugged her father.
When she turned back to Arlo, she got down on her knees in front of him. “Can we serve and work for the people of Karpathos?”
He nodded. “Every day.”
“Can we read books together and climb up in our tree and talk about important things?”
“Every day.”
“And can I still work in the gardens?”
“Absolutely.”
“And will you still love me when someone reminds you that I wasn’t born a royal, that I don’t really belong on the throne?”
“Tosh.” His mother surprised them both. “You belong more than any of those princes you both insist on spending time with. What citizen has proven her love more than you? If they have a problem with your status, we’ll just give you a title.” She turned to her husband. “What should she be?”
“I think a duchess would be appropriate.”
Amara shook her head. “No. I think I just want to be the gardener. I’ll have titles enough as soon as I’m married.”
“Good answer.” Arlo grinned. “So…” He raised an eyebrow.
She turned back to him. “Then, yes, Arlo. Yes. Oh, thank you, yes. I will marry you, be the queen, and live happily ever after. With you.”
He pulled her close and kissed her over and over until she forgot where they were. But after a minute, the king’s loud clearing of his throat reminded her. She stopped. “Oh.”
Arlo laughed. Then he stood and pulled her to her feet. “The news would like to do a broadcast from here. Are you willing?”
She approached the main newscaster, the same man who’d said terr
ible things about them earlier. “Are you going to encourage the citizens of this country to work for each other?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, then I will. No cutting my segment, though. No editing.”
“We were hoping to do this one live.”
“Well, then, let’s have at it.”
He waved to his team and they got set up. Arlo stood at her side. And soon they had the camera rolling. “Here we are, near the northeast shore of Karpathos, with Amara and Arlo, who have been working in these homes. Amara will you tell the people what you’ve been doing here?”
As Amara explained what needed to be done all over the island, and in these houses in particular, she pleaded with the citizens to not give up, to not stop until every house had been helped like these had. She was filled with purpose, and an understanding descended on her. She could do good here. She could encourage the citizens to be better. Just as Arlo was working to tamp out hunger, she could do other things. In Karpathos first, and then she could influence all the Mediterranean countries. As she looked to Arlo, his eyes filled with a responding love, she knew they were making the correct choice.
When she was done, Arlo cleared his throat. “And now, we’d like to take this moment to announce the good news of this whole cleanup. And that is Amara has graciously accepted to marry me. Meet Princess Amara Cohen, future queen of Karpathos. A dinner and ball will be announced at a later date, and that is where a formal announcement will be made. But you heard it here with the Amara you will see more than the other dressed-up version—both equally beautiful, both the woman I love.”
Then he turned to her and kissed her right on camera. Then he winked to the camera and they stopped the broadcast.
“Wow.”
“What?”
“I—just, wow. That was great.”
“Telling everyone to help each other?”
“Well, yes, that. But kissing you, in front of everyone like that. Ha!” She laughed.
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