Chapter 17 — Miles

I didn’t have the heart to tell Lisabet that I was the one who put in the call. Deep down, I think I’m worried about how she’d react. She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d appreciate handouts. I just wanted to enjoy the look on her face, give in to the contagiousness of her joy. Besides, I can’t see any harm in not telling her. It’s a little white lie, not something to worry about.

I wasn’t lying about being trapped in back-to-back meetings.

My day starts off with an hour-long debriefing with Father’s domestic affairs minister in the King’s office. We go over every grueling detail about yesterday’s economic reports.

It’s uncomfortably stuffy in here. Part of me wonders if Father keeps it this way on purpose. When his advisors come to visit, it’s never for an extended period of time. If I were them, I’d want to leave as quickly as I could, too. The temperature’s way too hot, none of the windows are open to let in some fresh air, and Father’s got all of the curtain’s pulled closed to block out the light.

It feels like a dungeon.

“There’s some unrest in the southern region over the disruptive dam development project,” the advisor explains, flipping between documents on his clipboard. “The wheat shortage in the northern provinces are also affecting the sale of most secondary food products, so the health minister’s demanding subsidies to avoid a public reliance on unhealthy, cheaper alternatives. There’s also some significant grumbling about the luxury tax that went into effect last week.”

King Albert threads his fingers together and sits behind his desk, stoic and unreadable. I’m by the window, sitting on the ledge in quite observation of their conversation. Father usually prefers that I stay silent during these meetings, arguing that the best way for me to learn is to take everything in from the sidelines. So when he turns to me, it’s an understatement to say I’m a little surprised.

“If it were up to you, what would you do?” he asks me.

I pause, think things over. This is a test I know I can pass, but I’m certain Father will find some way to chastise my choices no matter what I say.

I look to the advisor. “Why are people upset about the dam? It’s a hydro project intended to save them money in the long run.”

“They’re claiming that the sound of construction is disturbing the peace. There are also several environmental activists causing a stir about endangered species.”

“I’d tell the construction company to limit their hours of operation between regular work hours. Let’s say nine to five. And as for the endangered species, I’d bring in a specialist to consult on the project to limit ecological disturbance.”

Father nods curtly. “And what would you do about wheat shortage?”

I purse my lips. “That’s tough. There’s nothing we can do about the shortage itself. I can’t control the weather. No matter what we do, it’s going to cost us, subsidy or not. I’d probably take the opportunity to invest in a trade option with a neighboring country, import a bunch of products. It’ll keep the supply high, demand low, and also stimulate our economy and boost foreign relations.”

Father smirks. It’s a rare sight.

Slightly concerning, really.

“And the luxury tax?” he inquires.

“I’d do nothing. The only ones that the luxury tax really effects are the upper-class citizens. They can afford to pay it, and in turn our kingdom sees an increased revenue that it can then spend on infrastructure. They can suck it up.”

Father closes his eyes and sighs.

Apparently, that isn’t the right answer.

“No,” he says sternly. “You leave them to their complaining and they’ll start resenting us. We may be the Royal Family, but they have something we’re always struggling to have: money. With money, they have power. If you’re going to be a successful king one day, you’ll need to learn to have friends in high places.”

“I’d rather not let them step all over me,” I argue, glaring at Father pointedly.

“They’re not stepping all over me, boy. We’re compromising. I occasionally scratch their back, they make sure not to use their connections and affluence to turn their people against me.”

“That’s…”

“What? Say it.”

“That’s a backwards way of running the kingdom.”

Father’s advisor shrinks in place, pulling into himself like he’s trying to hide. King Albert glares at me.

“It’s not backwards. It’s smart.” Father rises from his seat. “You want to end up like Jamieson? He ignored his subjects and now look at him, running for his life like some common criminal.”

“That’s different. He was—”

“Ousted. Forcibly. By some of his closest friends. Don’t let that happen to you. Ignore the people who hold the axe over your head, and you’ll find out very quickly how they’ll choose to use it.” Father looks to his advisor. “You may go. I’ll have a formal declaration for you by noon.”

The advisor bows hastily before leaving, not daring to utter another word.

Father pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps in his seat. “What on Earth am I going to do with you?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not getting any younger, Miles. I can’t stress how important it is that you’re ready to take the throne.”

“I’m ready, Father.”

“Is that so? I don’t think impromptu trips to Paris are exactly becoming of a king.”

I blanch. “You know about that?”

“I know everything, boy. Well, mostly. Who was it that you went with?”

I swallow hard. “No one. Just me and David. Guys weekend out.”

Father snorts. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“But it’s true.”

“Strike two. Try again.”

“It doesn’t matter, Father. I just needed some time away from…” I gesture around me. “From all of this. Can’t I enjoy a little free time?”

“Free time?” Father echoes. “You need to get your priorities straight, boy. I still haven’t heard anything back from that matchmaker your cousin recommended. What exactly have you been up to, hm? It’s imperative you find yourself a wife.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again, Father. I told you, I’ll find someone when I’m ready to.”

He leans back in his office chair and crosses his arms. “I don’t think it’s about being ready. I think you’ve already found someone and you haven’t told me. Why is that, I wonder?”

My jaw stiffens.

Father stares me down, but I don’t give in. He doesn’t have to say anything. I know exactly what he’s going to tell me the second I decide to reveal the truth about Lisabet. Somewhere deep in my gut, I think he must know. I’d managed to pass her sudden arrival at the palace as a request by Mother, but very little ever gets past him.

I’m gearing up for a confrontation, but am surprised to see him back down.

“I’m tired,” he says curtly. “You may go. We’ll discuss this another time.”

I nod and bow stiffly. “As you wish.”

I leave, doing my best to look forward to my evening with Lisabet. The thought of seeing her again is really the only thing that gets me through the day.

*

We’ve got a private room in the back of Lafayette, the five-star restaurant located at the heart of the capital. It’s quiet; tealight candle glowing in the center of the table while the mumbling of distant conversation from guests out front can be heard through the door. There’s a gorgeous selection of appetizers sitting out before us, colorful flowers carved out of vegetables adorning every plate.

Lisabet speaks enthusiastically about the music that she’s spent the day writing. It’s an absolute joy to be able to see her eyes light up, full of sparks that draws me in without fail.

“I hope they like it,” she says. “I didn’t really know what they were looking for thematically, but I think I have a good mix of everything. I can’t wait for you to hear them. Maybe I can play some of my songs when we get back?”

“I’d love that.”

“I might need help naming some of them, if you’re interested? I’m terrible with coming up with names.”

I chuckle lightly. “I’d be honored.”

She continues on, totally engrossed in her project. I love listening to the sound of her voice, melodic and ethereal. I’d dare say it’s even more beautiful than her cello playing.

But despite this, I can’t seem to concentrate.

And Lisabet can tell.

“Everything OK?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, unbothered.

I force a smile. “It’s nothing. Just work. I’d rather not bore you with the details.”

“I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Come on. What’s up?”

I look at her fondly, admiring the sweet grin she wears. She’s in a modest black dress, the collar of which is decorated with a trimming of black lace. It suits her, hugging her curves with elegance and grace. She looks well-rested. Brighter, even. A stark contrast to when we first met at the mixer, though there’s no denying she’s always been beautiful. It’s like she’s finally coming into her own, confident and inspired.

I take a sip of my red wine. It’s from the southern coast of France. Limited edition, 1956. Expensive as all hell, but Lisabet seems to be enjoying it, so it’s well worth the price.

“I’ve just been thinking,” I begin slowly.

“About?”

“Being king one day.”

“You seem upset.”

“Not upset, just…It’s overwhelming. Every time I think I’m ready, my father points out every single way that I’m not. I want to do right by my people, not rule with an iron fist.”

Lisabet looks at me intently. “I wouldn’t exactly say that King Albert rules with an iron fist. Oxland’s thriving. Surely he’s doing something right.”

“I’m sure he is. But my problem is that he treats his people less like…Well, people.”

“What does he treat them like?”

I shrug. “Numbers. Statistics. Objects. Things to be dealt with, for the sake of the kingdom. I don’t think I could do that. My father sees everything as black and white, right and wrong. But I think people’s lives are way more complicated than that. But you’re right. Our kingdom is doing very well.”

She tilts her head, curious. “Go on.”

“When the day comes, when the crown’s finally sitting on my head, I’m the one who’s going to be making the decisions. And if there’s ever a situation that arises where I have to choose between my kingdom and my people, I really don’t want to have to choose.”

Lisabet reaches across the table and places her hand over mind. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world to me. Comforting in a way I never would have expected. Soothing and calming, like being wrapped up in a blanket straight out of the dryer on a chilly winter’s night.

“Your people are your kingdom,” she says. “I know you’ll do the right thing for them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re a good man, Miles. If you love your people, they’ll love you back.”

“You seem really sure about that.”

She nods. “I am. You’re going to be a great king one day. I’d bet money on it.”

I stroke the back of her hand with the pad of my thumb. It’s in this exact moment that I know for certain, without a reasonable doubt.

I’m in love with her.