by B. B. Hamel
Perko smiles at that. “Yes, yes we do.” He grabs me a drink from a waiter. I’m not my waiter, but that’s okay. I accept it and take a single sip. “Your Bellestanian is improving, Princess,” he says.
“Thank you,” I answer. “I’ve been working hard. Though who knows if it’s even worth the time.”
“Worth the time, Princess?”
That got his attention. I twirl my glass in circles in my hand and pout at it. “I almost got blown up, remember?”
He winces at my frankness. “Yes, I heard about that, my dear. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
“I’m lucky. We’re all lucky. Do you now how many bombs were shot at me back home?”
He cocks his head. “None, I assume.”
“None,” I confirm. “No bombs. I had no press following me around, and I didn’t have to live in a cave.”
Perko smiles softly. “Yes, you must miss being home.”
“Things were good in America. Bran has a country and a life back there. I just… I just don’t understand why he’s throwing it all away for this place that doesn’t even want him.”
Perko stares at me for a second and I can tell he’s trying to weigh what to say next. So far, I hope I’m coming off as a young woman that was thrown into a world she didn’t expect and is angry that it’s taking so much away from her. I’m hoping he thinks I’m just young and bitter and drunk.
My heart is racing and I know this is the moment. If he takes the bait, I think I can do something with that. I take a big drink, draining half my glass, hoping to encourage him a bit.
“The political environment here in Bellestan is rather… volatile,” he says slowly. “Did the Prince not warn you?”
“Prince,” I scoff a bit. “He’s just Bran to me, you know. Just a rich guy with a great company. I didn’t even know about this place when we first started dating.”
“I thought the world knew all about him being Prince Billionaire?” Perko says.
I shrug my shoulders and let the strap of my dress fall down my arm slightly. “I don’t really watch the news. We met at a party. I didn’t even know who he was at first.”
Perko smiles at me as I fix my strap slowly. “Well, dear, that must be difficult. I can’t imagine what it’s like, getting thrown into this.”
“No, you can’t,” I say. “How could you? You’re just a politician.”
He smiles softly. “Just a politician? I have a daughter, you know.”
I shrug my shoulders and finish my drink. “You all have daughters. Doesn’t matter.” I sigh and look way. “I’m sorry if I’m being too brash, Minister. I’m just tired.”
He doesn’t say anything for another long moment, clearly watching me. I turn back to him and meet his gaze without smiling, daring him to say something. Slowly, he steps closer to me.
“Would you like to see something, Princess?” he asks me.
My heart skips a beat. “What, another ancient monument?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. Actually, I think you’ll like it. Come with me.”
I hesitate before sighing. “Fine. Not like Bran’ll be back, anyway. He’s not really sick, you know. Just wanted to ditch out of this, but of course I have to stay to represent the crown.”
“Of course,” Perko says, and leads me away from the crowd.
I prattle on about life as the Princess, though I’m only half paying attention to what I’m saying. Perko takes me out of the room, making the required noises and agreeing with everything I’m saying. We head down the main hall, but wave away the palace guards as they try to follow.
I have to admit, I’m afraid. I’m very, very afraid. But I keep going. I know Queen Ana is watching, even if she’s not right here with me.
We head down the hall and finally Perko stops in front of a nondescript door. “Come, just in here.” He pushes it open and we step inside.
It’s a small guest room. There’s just enough room for a small bathroom off to the side, a small twin-sized bed, a vanity with a large mirror, and a wardrobe. Perko walks over to the vanity, grabs the mirror, and flips it onto its back.
“What are we doing here?” I ask him.
“You seem bored,” he say. “I admit, I get bored at these things, too. Princess, have you really asked yourself why you’re here?”
I watch as Perko roots around in one of the drawers. “I ask myself that every day.”
“And what’s the answer?”
I watch as he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls out a small baggie with some white powder inside of it, and I realize that it’s cocaine.
“Uh,” I say, and press the button to record. “I want a good life. And I think I love Bran. Or at least I did. Now, I don’t know. I never wanted to be a Princess.”
“Of course not, dear. Being a Princess isn’t fun, is it?”
“No,” I agree with him.
He pours some of the baggie onto the mirror then gets out his wallet. Using a credit card, he cuts three little lines, and finally rolls up a fifty-dollar bill.
“I ask myself why I got into politics all the time,” he says as he works. “When I was young, my father would tell me to learn a trade. Bellestan was built by skilled craftsmen, he’d say to me, over and over. After awhile, I got bored of him, and decided I’d go into politics instead.”
He snorts the first line and throws back his head. When he’s done, he holds the fifty out for me.
I hesitate a second. “Go ahead, Princess,” he says. “I use this room all the time. I’ve swept it for bugs. Nobody is listening. Nobody will come here.”
I’ve never done cocaine before, but now I have to. I slowly walk over to him and accept the fifty. I lean forward and emulate what he did, snorting the powder into my nose.
Instantly it hits me.
“Holy,” I say, throwing my head back.
Perko grins, his eyes wide. “Exactly,” he agrees.
I know I shouldn’t do coke in Bellestan. Hell, I shouldn’t do it anywhere, but especially not while recording everything. Bellestan is a conservative country, and their stance on drugs is one of the toughest in the world. Addicts are routinely deported.
But holy shit, I do not give a fuck about that or anything at all right now.
Cocaine is fucking crazy. I feel invincible and excited. My pulse is racing and I just want to SCREAM as loud as I can and laugh my freaking head off. I feel like a fucking god right now.
I give Perko the bill back and walk over to the bed. I sit down but can’t sit still.
“Things are easier in America, you know,” he says to me. “Much easier. Here in Bellestan, the people are too stupid and too backwards to care about anything but their farms. You know, I agree with the monarchy on one thing, and it’s that we need to enter the twenty-first century with the rest of the world.”
He snorts the next line and throws his head back, his eyes wide. I laugh and grin, staring at him, excited about absolutely everything.
“Fucking hell,” he says. “You know they’d kick me out of the fucking country for doing this? Isn’t that madness?”
“Madness,” I agree.
“Fucking madness.” He walks over to the wardrobe and throws it open. “I feel amazing. God damn, do I love doing coke in this fucking palace. Look at this room. Even this little fucking room is a symbol of their power and wealth. It’s all so absurd and disgusting. I hate the monarchy, no offense, I fucking hate them.”
“No offense taken,” I say, laughing. “Look at this place. I grew up poor!”
“Me too!” He whirls around and faces me. “I was so fucking poor! But now look at me. I want to rip down this monarchy just to prove that a poor boy can beat out all these rich bastards.”
“Yes,” I say, totally riveted by his speech. There’s a little voice in the back of my head telling me to get out of there, since I have what I need, but I don’t want to. I’m having such a good time!
I stand up and walk over to the wall near
where Perko is ranting. He’s going on about the royalty and hating them but I’m not listening. I walk over to the wall and run my hands down along it before cracking up and laughing.
“What?” he asks suddenly, staring at me.
“No windows!”
He looks at me for a second then bursts out laughing. We laugh together, and for some reason it’s the funniest joke in the world.
“They live like cockroaches under the ground!” Perko roars, laughing his head off.
“Cockroaches!” I can’t help but laugh along. Everything feels good, I feel so good, I can barely stand it.
Suddenly, Perko turns toward me. He steps closer and puts his hands up on my shoulders, pulling me toward him.
It takes me off guard. He shoves his face against mine, trying to kiss me. I react the only way I know how.
I knee him as hard as I can in the balls.
“Oh, fuck!” He grunts and stumbles back.
I cover my mouth. “Shit! You tried to kiss me!”
“You drunk American whore,” he curses in Bellestanian. “You should be sucking my fat foreign dick for giving you that coke. You’re no fucking Princess, you goddamn slut.”
I blink and walk quickly toward the door. He follows me, still raving. “I’ll cut off your tits, your goddamn sow. I’ll fuck your bleeding corpse!”
I whirl on him and as he gets close enough, I kick him in the balls again. He screams in pain and falls backward, crashing against the vanity. He knocks the mirror onto the floor, splintering the glass, but I’m not hanging around to see what happens next.
I turn and fucking run. I throw open the door and speed out of that room as fast as I can.
The palace guards meet me in the hallway seconds later. “Princess?” I realize that Aleks is leading them.
“Perko,” I say. “Holy shit, Perko. Tried to kiss me. Said he’d cut off my tits.”
“Jesus,” Aleks whispers. “Did you… did you get it?”
I remember the recording device. “Yes!”
“Good. Come on, Princess.” He leads me away from the room, away from the sick bastard Blaz Perko.
26
Bran
King Branimir looks at me over his glasses and sighs, shaking his head. I hit stop on the recorder and raise an eyebrow as a small smile creeps across his face.
“Did she really do coke with him?” he asks me.
I sigh. “That’s what you’re taking from this?”
His smile grows larger. “Maybe.”
“Yes, she did,” I say, smiling a little in return. “She was keeping her cover, after all.”
“What an impressive girl.” His laugh is genuine and deep. “Has she ever done something like that before?”
“The drugs or the spying?” I grin at him and shake my head. “No, neither of them, and she says she’s never doing either of them again.”
My father leans back in his chair and watches me for a moment without saying anything. After a moment, he reaches down into a drawer and produces a bottle of whisky and two glasses. I smile at him as he pours two glasses and pushes one across his desk for me.
I sip the whisky and watch him as he takes a drink. The smile never leaves his lips as he drinks, and I have to admit, I haven’t seen my father this happy in a long time.
“We have to give that girl some kind of medal,” he says finally.
“I don’t think she wants it.”
“Why would she do that for us?” He cocks his head at me.
“She’s my fiancée,” I say.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Bran. Do you really think your mother wouldn’t tell me?”
I stare down at my glass and suddenly I feel like a little kid again, getting caught misbehaving. Back then, I was afraid of my father as only a young boy can be. But of course, I have nothing to fear from him anymore. I’m a grown man and I just saved his damn kingdom.
“She likes it here,” I say finally.
My father laughs. “Of course she does,” he says.
“She felt a sense of… I don’t know. Duty.”
“Is that what you really think?” His smile is knowing and it drives me nuts.
I finish my whisky in one quick drink. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to stop being so stupid and blind. The girl is obviously in love with you.” My father leans across his desk. “And you’re a damn fool if you give that up.”
I stare at him, surprised as hell. “But she’s not royal,” I say. “She’s not a good match.”
“Who the hell cares? She saved my damn kingdom. She can marry my worthless son if she wants to.”
I can’t help but grin at him. “The Kingdom isn’t saved yet, you know.”
“No, but it will be.”
I nod at him slowly. “Perko will fall, that’s for sure. But he’s not working alone.”
“No, there will be others. But Perko was the heart of the conspiracy. Without him, it’ll fall apart.” He smirks at me and refills my glass. “When it’s all over, what will you do? Run back to America and return to your old life?”
I glare at him. “It wouldn’t be running.”
“No? I guess not. That’s where you love now. Not here, your home.”
“Don’t try to guilt trip me. This was always supposed to be temporary.”
My father watches me for a moment and finishes his whisky. He nods his head slowly and shrugs at me. “True, temporary, until one day I’m gone and you’re king.”
“We have a long while before that’s reality.”
“I hope so.” He sighs and leans toward me. “But listen to me, son, and listen closely. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this world, it’s this: find what you love and never fucking let it go. There are so few people truly willing and able to give you everything, and the ones that can, they deserve everything in return.” He leans back in his chair and looks back to his computer. “Anyway, I have things to do, ministers to smear. Send your mother back here if you see her, will you?”
“Sure,” I mumble and stand up. I watch my father for a second, frowning, his words ringing in my ears. “Oh, and do me a favor. Remove the parts where Mila does drugs before you release the tapes, okay?”
My father laughs again. “As far as I’m concerned, Princess Mila never touched the stuff.”
“Thanks,” I say before turning and leaving his office. I head back through his rooms and out into the hallway, my mind still running through that conversation.
I’ve never heard my father be so frank and honest about something like happiness and love before. He’s normally a practical man and he doesn’t have time for emotional things. He has a kingdom to run, and he can’t cloud his judgment with lofty thoughts and ideals, or at least that’s what he used to say.
That was a very rare moment from my father. And I can’t help but notice that he called her Princess Mila at the end of the conversation, although he knows damn well that she’s not a Princess. Hell, she’s a commoner and a foreigner, and she has no place in our venerable and ancient royalty.
At least that’s what I thought he’d say about her. Now that we have the ammunition we need to destroy Perko, I assumed my parents would want me to return to America with Mila and to slowly phase her out of my life.
Instead, my father apparently wants me to make this arrangement an actual marriage.
I stop and lean against the railing overlooking the cavern and close my eyes for a second. I picture what my life would look like with Mila, how things would play out. But I can’t seem to see anything at all. The only thing I can feel is an emotion, one single emotion.
It’s desire, pure and simple.
I open my eyes and turn my head to the left. Aleks is standing there, watching me from a doorway.
“Don’t just stare,” I grumble at him.
“I wanted to give you space, my Prince,” he says, a cocky grin on his face.
I sigh and shake my head. “Enough with that.”
He
joins me at the railing. “Still pissed at me?”
“A little bit,” I say, smiling. “Helps that it was my mom’s idea the whole time.”
“Look, I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t think Mila would be safe and up to the task.”
“Clearly you were right on both accounts.” I sigh and look down toward the lake in the center of the cave. “I guess it’s finished now, though.”
“Yeah, guess so.” He quiet for a second. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I guess I can go home.”
“You mean, back to America.” I can hear the subtle tone in his voice.
“That’s been my home for years, Aleks.”
He sighs and looks at me. “Was it really? Is that why you’ve been funneling money into this country for as long as you’ve been out there?”
I give him a look. “What’s with people today? First, my dad tells me to marry Mila for real, and now you’re telling me to come back home.”
“We miss you, Bran,” he says softly. He pushes himself off the railing and heads back toward the royal apartment. “And you should fucking marry her. If you don’t, I will.”
I laugh and flip him off as he heads back down the hallway. He gives me a wave as he disappears around the bend.
I linger for a second before walking back to the elevator and riding down to my floor. I head down the hall and step into Mila’s room.
For a second, I think she’s not in, but I spot her sitting off near a wall underneath a large landscape painting and reading a book. She looks up as I walk over to her and smiles.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey, yourself.” I cock my head. “What are you doing?”
“There aren’t any windows in here, you know that?”
“We’re underground.” I grin at her.
“Well, I pulled this chair underneath this painting and now I’m pretending that it’s a window.”
I stare at her for a second before bursting out with laughter. I’ve never met someone so strange, so interesting, and with the uncanny ability to always make me smile. She grins at me and shrugs a little bit, clearly not sure why I’m laughing so hard.