The Prince

I

I paced nervously around my bedroom, the carpet squishing under my feet as I padded a neat line into it.

"Where are you?" There was no answer, seeing as I was completely alone and talking to someone who hadn't arrived yet. "It's getting late." Just as I was about to give up all hope that he would ever return, the door swung open and Scott walked in.

"I'm sorry that took so long, Sir. The Queen was unavailable." he said, face as still as stone. I waved him in and shut the door behind him, watching as he dropped the facade and melted into his usual self. "You can't keep asking me to eavesdrop; I'm going to get arrested for it one day." His eyes seemed bluer than ever, the color of the oceans I'd only heard tales about and sparkling like the stars.

"No you won't. I have authority, and I can make sure they don't take you anywhere or arrest you for anything." He shook his head, absentmindedly going to brush the dust off of my dresser.

"You were pacing." he noticed, eyeing the small path that had been carved into the carpet. "Everything alright?"

"I was nervous that you got caught and that's why you weren't back yet. Just worried me. Can you tell me what you heard them saying, if anything?" He started his daily report of what he overheard my parents, the King and Queen of Illéa, talking about in regards to my upcoming eighteenth birthday, which seems to be all the two of them can talk about these days.

"Applications for the Selection are being sent in soon. Exciting stuff, wouldn't you say?" he finished, sitting down on the bed beside me. It took me several seconds to answer, because I knew that I could never tell him the truth.

"Exciting." I mumbled, distracting myself with the torn cuff of blazer. "Do you think you could take this to the tailor and have him patch it up for me?" I turned the cuff toward him, biting my cheek when he took my wrist to examine it closer.

"I can mend that myself, if you want." He smiled warmly at me, turning my arm over gently. "Want me to go get my needle and thread? It'll only take a few seconds."

"Sure. Thank you, Scott." He stood, bowed, and rushed out. The second he was gone, the smile was gone from my face and I was already scolding myself. Do not react to his touch. You are the prince. You are powerful. You are not vulnerable to butlers. Even if their eyes are the color of oceans and stars. I shook my head to clear it, standing up and going over to the piano in the corner of the room. Instead of sitting and playing it, I opened the bench and got out a sketch pad. Drawing had always calmed me, always been the most consistent and safe part of my life. I'd always been the prince, but my life was always changing, fluctuating from time to time. When I was younger, only five or six, the Rebel period started. There were Rebel attacks on the palace often, almost weekly at its climax. After a couple years, they finally backed off, when my father signed a peace treaty with them. Once I got older, I had duties to tend to, always. Drawing has always made sense to me, so that's what I always did.

****

I sat at my dad's desk staring at a statement that had been personally delivered by a representative of New Asia. My dad had left me in charge of filing and filling out some papers, and this one had caught my eye. For the millionth time, I began to read it out loud to myself, quietly so that no passing guards or servants could hear.

"To whom it may concern: we have received your most recent letter concerning the trade agreement and have come to a nationwide consensus. At this time, New Asia is unwilling to associate with Illéa or any of its regime. This decision has been made for the good of the country, and we will stand by this until further not-" I stopped short, folding up the letter hastily and trying to shove it under a stack of unread papers as my father stepped in.

"Mitchell, it's time for dinner. Come, please. We have a lot to talk about with your mother and sister." he said, smiling in his usual kind way, laugh lines crinkling at his eyes.

"I would have to agree, with the Selection coming up." He gestured to the doorway, waiting for me to walk out before closing the door and following. We fell into step with each other, taking the same long strides down the hallway and toward the stairs. "I would assume that you saw the statement from New Asia." he said quietly, an unidentifiable tone lacing his voice.

"I did. It was in one of the piles, and I came across it." He nodded to guards as we passed, each of them bowing back.

"What do you make of it?" Excitement flurried in my stomach; it was the first time he has ever asked my opinion about a political statement.

"I think it's dangerous not to have New Asia in some sort of peace agreement with us." I admitted, trying to find the right words. "Last time, there was war, and it devastated the country." We continued to talk about the possible impending war on our country until we reached the dining room.

****

Dinner was unbearably quiet, and the whole time, I was staring out the window, wishing to go out into the gardens to think. Under the table, my sister, Allison, bumped her knee against mine and I looked over at her. She had an unreadable question in her eyes.

"I don't think it's been this quiet since before you two were born." my dad joked, his hearty laugh echoing in the empty room. I tried to laugh, too, but I couldn't even force myself to do that. "Mitchell, we need to discuss your upcoming Selection." I nodded but kept my mouth shut, my thoughts wandering back to Scott. Clenching my jaw, I tried to push him out of my mind and think about all the things I should be thinking about: my Selection, my birthday, the politics we were facing, pretty girls.

"Mitch, our birthday party is two days from now. We're turning eighteen, how are you not excited for that?" Alyssa asked, setting her fork down delicately and looking over to me again. "It's a big moment."

"I am excited, I promise." I assured, trying to find the words to describe how I felt without telling them how I felt.

"Son, I've made arrangements for the Queen of France to bring her daughter as an attendee to your birthday ball. As I recall, you two got along quite nicely, didn't you?" my mother chimed in. The idea sounded pleasing; the French princess, Adrienne, and I had talked for hours the last time she was here. "And, Allison, we've added Joshua to the guest list. I hadn't realized he was overlooked." My sister lit up when she heard that, her smile shining brighter than the sun at the mention of her boyfriend. He was practically all she ever talked about.

"Mitchell," my dad started, leaning forward on his elbows and drawing the conversation back to me. "In two days, practically every girl of age in Illéa will be sending in applications, trying to win you over before it's even started. Next week, you have to draw the names of the thirty-five lucky girls who will be invited into the palace. Are you prepared to do that? To go on national television and announce their names, and be excited about it? Gavril can only do so much; this time, it's gonna be your show, not his. You understand that."

"Yes, father, of course I do. I'm very excited, I promise. I'm just a bit worn down today. I'll be better after some sleep." We finished our meals in silence, Allison and I both rushing out the second our father dismisses us.

"There has never been a more awkward meal." she said, shaking her head as we came to a stop a few doors down. "You couldn't have at least acted happy?"

"I'm not happy." I said, offering her my arm. She straightened up a little, taking a deep breath and looping her arm through mine as we began to walk toward the stairs. We walked in a more comfortable silence, only speaking to say our goodnights when we reached our bedrooms. I disappeared into my bedroom and practically ran to grab my sketchbook and a pencil. Less than a minute after I had settled on my bed and continued to work on a drawing I'd been working on for months, there was a knock on the door. With a sigh, I called, "Come in." I recognized Scott before I saw his face. He stepped in, shutting the door behind him. Seeming to understand that I needed some peaceful quiet, as opposed to the tense silence of dinner, he nods once at me and begins to get my room ready for sleep.

****