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Mother exhales and pushes her plate away, then produces a planner notebook out of nowhere.
“I like this plan. I’ve always known you had a spark for adventure, my boy. Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll have the royal travel agents arrange everything. Security, lodging, pilots, all of it.”
“No, Mother. I want to go incognito,” I say.
This time, my siblings join in the merriment.
“Where will you go incognito? You’re known everywhere,” Flora asks with interest.
Not everywhere, I’m sure of that.
I stalk out of the breakfast room and head down the hall. The queen follows.
When I reach the library, I find the globe in the corner by the window and spin it to the United States. I trace my finger from left to right, passing over the square shapes, then pausing at a place called West Virginia. I know nothing about it except that it’s the oddest shape. It’s also green and mountainous. Perhaps it’s like Gravenland, except for being landlocked. A perfect place to hide and find someone simple, unsavvy, from a small town, who doesn’t know who I am.
The queen looks at me with a note of sadness and presses a palm to my cheek. “My baby is leaving. What will I do with myself?”
I cover her hand with mine. “Flora is your baby, remember?”
She shakes her head. “That one was practically raised by you, Sigurd, and the wood nymphs,” Mother says. It’s hardly an exaggeration. All of us Reckless Royals have been known for our talent of giving our parents and the security guards the slip.
“You know what I mean,” she continues. “It took seven years to finally get pregnant. That’s why everyone celebrates you. Even if it makes you uncomfortable. They love you.”
Mother gestures to the window. In the distance, people are still clogging the street with a parade routed to pass directly in front of the castle grounds. These celebrations will go on for an entire week.
“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” I say.
The queen laughs softly. “Oh, dear. You aren’t aware that every passing emotion shows on your face. I love that about you, son. Now, I’ll have to meet with the royal travel agent and make arrangements for you to meet…well, who, I don’t know. We’ll start with our friends in Washington, who can help you discreetly meet an eligible lady your age. I’ll have your itinerary set by the end of the week.”
My mother doesn’t understand. I don’t care to meet with the palace’s political friends or powerful allies. I don’t care to meet with people they know because of politics or trade, or embassies.
But I can’t blame her. It’s all she knows.
If I must marry, I will find someone on my own terms.
I kiss the queen on the forehead and nod my head and smile.
“By the end of the week, then. Thank you, Mother,” I say, knowing I’ll be out of the country by the day’s end.
4
Hailey
It’s 5 a.m. on Tuesday, and a pleasant late summer breeze sweeps through the valley. Just two more hours of my shift, and then I’m off until Thursday night.
I might help my brother with his work on the house, but I’d rather spend my day off reading or finding ways to get Mama out of the house for some Vitamin D. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to pick up her violin. It’s been ages since I heard her fiddle playing, and I miss it.
If Mama wants to be left alone, then I’m sure Memaw and Papaw down the lane could use some help with their animals.
April has been trying to get me to join her and her husband for the Mothman Festival over in Point Pleasant this week, but I’m not feeling it. They’re great, but I always feel like the third wheel when I’m with them. Maybe I’ll go alone and meet them there.
As I’m considering what else to do with my time off, a red sports car appears at the bend coming down the mountain, and I can already tell it’s moving way too fast. This happens a lot. Inexperienced drivers from flat lands don’t understand downshifting around here.
I don’t worry too much about it at first. But then, it seems like the car is barreling towards my toll booth at full speed.
Okay. I’m officially nervous now.
I watch and wait for it to slow down, but it zooms around, weaving through the sparse early morning traffic like they’re headed to a fire.
