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Whatever, who cares? No one will care about the Rotten Royals here as soon as the trending stops. Something else will start trending, and that will be that. Maybe dad was right, and Vermont is the safest place for me to be right now. If I were back home, I wouldn’t be able to go near a window or leave the palace grounds for days. Heck, even the palace grounds would be teeming with reporters. Leaving my room would be a logistic nightmare for my guards.
And then, I would only leave it to go see my dad.
Which, no. I am not even going there.
I can’t even think of him right now.
Just no. I can’t talk to him, I can’t see him. I can’t. What he did… It feels as if he’s not my dad. He’s a stranger.
But these things can’t reach me here. I lather my hair again before I put on the cream to tame its wild curls, taking my time in the shower, pretending that I’m not trembling as the words ‘DIE, PRINCESS’ scroll through my mind again and again.
It was an isolated incident, I tell myself. Nothing to worry about. People at UVM have so many things to worry about and to do; they will hardly bother with the political scandals that are happening across the pond to a tiny European country. The words ‘king’ and ‘princess’ mean absolutely nothing to them.
So, I put on a dress and head to the party, with my head held high.
Bianca is out with her boyfriend, and I wish there was one person I knew there, but sports people are not her scene anyway, so I doubt that she would come even if she knew I changed my mind. And I am done hiding behind safe people and circumstances. I take the oldest bodyguard I can find, Victor, who is pushing fifty, so that I won’t be tempted to pretend he is a student and talk to him all night. I will have to push myself here.
To get out of my shell.
To talk to people, to make friends, to do whatever you do at a uni party.
I draw my jacket closer: the night is chilly. It’s late October. There’s a fierce wind sweeping through the campus trees, and the sky looks menacing, as it’s about to be plunged into night. Vermont has this specific smell in the air, and I fill my lungs with the scent of dry leaves and cut grass, bracing myself for what’s to follow. These vast fields of grass and the surrounding woods are instant peace for me.
Or at least they were when I first got here.
I look at them longingly, wishing I could disappear between those rustling trees, away from every bad feeling that is burdening my heart.
As we approach the outdoor pool and the blasting music reaches my ears, it occurs to me that everyone who is here, they are here to enjoy themselves. And all I’ve done is push myself just to get to the party.
I’ll never be normal, no matter how much I fight for it, will I?
Oh well, it’s still worth a try.
***
I walk into the party.
It smells of chlorine and cheap beer, but otherwise it seems pretty tame. People are standing around, chatting, the music covering everything like a blanket. Some groups are louder than others, but I don’t feel as if I’m sticking out like a sore thumb. Give it a minute, and I will. Students are huddled inside the building, but more are spilling out into the night, standing around the pool, or sitting on the grass to sip their beer.
I’m wearing a cute dress, and no high heels because this isn’t a palace function (thank goodness). My black hair is long and straight, reaching down to my thighs, and I’ve put on makeup and maroon nail polish (something that’s not allowed when you’re a royal). I look like any normal college girl. I hope. Now, how to act like one?
I may not be the soul of the party, but I’m not used to hiding either. But that’s what I end up doing. I gravitate towards the wall, and try to hide my face behind a plastic cup of beer, which tastes like pee.
Everyone is avoiding me like the plague, and I’m glad that Bianca is not here to be associated with this new failure. The few girls from my class that I have started to talk to and tentatively get to know, are looking at me from across the pool as if they are trying to decide if the social stigma of talking to me is worth my company.
They decide against it and turn their backs on me.
Suddenly, the enormity of what happened today hits me at full force. I don’t think it had until now. I think a part of my brain was pushing it away, not fully realizing how huge and serious this is. But this small thing, these girls glancing at me and then turning their backs, brings it home in a way it hadn’t before.
This is the truth, and I can do nothing to change it.
My dad, the king, the kindest, most upstanding person in the world, is not who I thought he was.
He is not who the whole world thought he was.
I may no longer be the heir to the throne.
I have siblings. Half-siblings, but still, siblings. I don’t know how many. The Rotten Royals’ post hinted at two.
