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It’s a line of rhetoric I am all too familiar with, and one I’ve never successfully argued with.
I know one day in the not-too-distant future I’ll be making decisions in the best interests of Ledonia, a heavy metaphorical—and literal at times—crown on top of my head. In seven years in fact, when Father stands down, as is Ledonian tradition.
The thought has my insides shriveling up into something the size of a raisin.
That's the problem when you're born into a job. You get no say. No choice. Well, not unless you’re Prince Nicolas and decide to do a runner.
But that's not my style.
“I want you to stay here in Malveaux to spend as much time as possible with the new princess. Get to know her. Find out how she ticks, what she likes.”
“She’s American, so she probably likes burgers and Coke,” I jest.
Father is not amused. “Let's try to get a little deeper than that, shall we, Alexander?”
“Of course, Father. That was a flippant comment.”
“Hmm,” he grunts.
My father is a tough crowd of one. I continue to try to charm him, but so far, any success on that front has eluded me. Idiot that I am, I can't help but try.
“I can’t say I’ve exactly warmed to her.”
“You need to. And besides, you’re good with women, from what I’ve seen, when you can fit it in with your endless parties.”
Can’t I shake my reputation, even with my family?
“That’s the old me, Father. I’m not into all that anymore. I’ve left it behind.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Why ever would you do that?”
“It got old,” I reply simply.
He narrows his gaze, as though assessing me in light of this new information. “What’s the ‘new’ you?”
I pause, not sure how much to share with him. We’ve never been what you’d call close. Keeping me at arm’s length my whole life saw to that. Of course I love him and would do anything for him. That’s the way it is with children and their parents. No matter what they’re like as human beings, you desperately want their approval. Their love.
My father? He sees me more as an employee, someone to train and prepare to eventually take over the family business once he retires. I don’t doubt his love, but it’s barbed like a wrought iron fence—as beautiful as it is dangerous.
“I suppose I’m less interested in partying and all that goes with it,” I reply simply.
“And the women?”
“I haven’t been romantically involved with anyone in over a year, Father.”
“A year?” He looks positively stunned. “That’s not what I see in the papers.”
“Because you and I both know how accurate they are.”
“Hmm. Yes. Well, now’s not the time to bring out this new you, Alexander. Stick with the old where the American is concerned. Charm her. Show her how important we are to Malveaux. You’ll be King when I retire. It’s about time you stepped up. Proved yourself useful.”
His words burn like the flick of a stingray’s tail.
I let out a resigned sigh. I’m not going to win this one. “What do you want me to do?”
“Where she goes, you go. I’ll see to it. I'm sure she'll be introduced to her charities and have to attend various functions, among other activities.”
“Father, I hardly think?—”
