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“I’m not quite sure. But I’ll be in touch.”
Isha seems to be recovering well, and you’d never think Father even had a stroke the way he’s back to his old self. His old insistent self.
Riva sends me photos of the sick patients, and I feel even more certain that I’m making the right choice by leaving. I’m nearing the airport parking when I get another notice on my phone. There’s an urgent email from the Royal Trust.
Dr. Vanecourt,
I regret to inform you that the Royal Trust’s support for your charitable foundation, WorldClinique, has been withdrawn for this coming fiscal year. The royal family of Solvaria wishes you the best of luck in your future endeavors.
Regards,
King Francis of Solvaria
“That motherfucker! He didn’t even spell the name of my organization right.” I can barely see in front of me from the fury.
The tires squeal as I make a U-turn at the entrance to the airport. If I had a can of spray paint, I’d deface the airport sign. It would be worth the night in jail. I’d make it ‘Fuc-king Francis International Airport.’
I park in the circular driveway in front and slam the doors, then storm into the palace before the guards can say anything.
I yell loudly enough so that I know it’ll reach my father’s quarters. “What the fuck did you just do, Dad?”
I race up the enormous staircase, skipping two steps at a time. The staff stops, and the halls fall silent except for the sound of my movements and breath.
“King Francis! Your Royal Highness!” I call sardonically, dripping with disdain.
He comes to his front chamber to his offices, strolling in as if it’s a social call from one of his nobles.
“How can I help you, son? I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again this trip. To what do I owe the privilege?” My father’s nonchalant demeanor and big shit-eating grin fuel my rage even more than if he had thrown a punch.
“You know exactly why I’m here, Dad. What the fuck?” I’m shaking and my chest is heaving from the fury.
“Excuse me? That’s how you address your King?”
“No. It’s how I address my vindictive dad. You told me you’d cut half. That was unfair and selfish, but I could live with it. Cutting it to zero? You don’t care about international public health?”
“Of course, I do. But wouldn’t it be better to support a more legitimate organization with a better track record?”
“No. It wouldn’t. My foundation is doing work no one else is doing, and those organizations can get funding from anywhere. How does it look when the Royal Trust won’t support a foundation from the royal family?”
The King shrugs, and if he were anyone else, I would take a swing.
“I don’t know what it looks like. You shouldn’t be concerned about such things. You should be concerned about what it looks like for a prince who’s twenty-five years old to have no marriage prospects on the horizon, to the detriment of his nation’s stability.”
“Not this again. I’m not ready to get married. I want to use my most energetic years contributing the most I can to the rest of the world, to the field of medicine, to humanitarian causes.”
“And I want to use the remaining years I have left to know who’s going to be continuing the work of this dynasty. I want to make sure our great nation is on sure footing. I want to know my sons are married to women who will make…”
“Make you look good?”
“...Them happy. And if they make the country look good in the process, well, what’s the harm?” My father grins, amused with himself, but I don’t find anything about this funny.
“And I think I have one for you.”
“No, Dad, you don’t. I couldn’t be less interested in hearing who it is. You care about one thing, Dad, and it’s not Solvaria. It’s yourself. You don’t care about your kids, just whether we follow orders. Well, I’m not anymore. I’m done.”
I glare at him before turning and leaving, getting out as fast as I can.
“Cedrick! Wait.” My father has one hand up.
