6 months after the bombing…
I opened the door to my father's study, wondering why he suddenly had the urge to speak with me. In all the six months of my recovery, he has only seen me a grand total of eleven times. Yes, I acknowledge the fact that he is faint of heart and can't handle looking at anything gruesome. But it's been six months, so unless you considered limb stubs disgusting, then he should have been fine. Sometimes, it felt like I lost three things; my arm, my leg and my father.
In contrast was my mother, who couldn't bear to leave me alone for a second. She had shirked all her queenly duties to become my own personal nurse. Which could have contributed to my dad's absence, I guess, he now had double the amount of work to do.
But maybe he finally came to his senses. Maybe he realized that I needed my old man back. That I needed him to sit by me and crack jokes about my loss of limbs. I didn't want or need him to act like a leech, Mom had taken care of that role. I just wanted my family to stand by my side.
"Nathan! Come in, come in. How long have you been standing, er, I mean sitting there?" he said glancing down at my wheelchair. "Have a seat! Sorry, forget what I said. I suppose you've already taken one, eh?"
I frowned at his attempt at light-heartedness. I wasn't used to jokes about...me, and I realized right then that I hated any jokes of that sort. I wheeled—I guess it wouldn't be considered wheeling, seeing that the chair was remote controlled— to his desk, positioning myself in front of his desk.
"How are the prosthetics going?"
"It's too early to get those. You'd know that if you ever came to a single appointment."
"Right...you're right," he sighed. "How's your mother?"
"She's your wife! How do you not know how your own wife is?" I exclaimed, incredulous at his ignorance.
"Yes, I know but I haven't seen her for a few days. Work and all that. Did you know she moved into the room next to yours last week?"
He was beating around the bush. Whatever he wanted, it clearly was something I'd most probably dislike. Why else would he ask such a stupid question? Of course I knew my mother moved in next door. Breathing down my neck was her new favourite hobby!
"Just get to the point already. This meeting surely wasn't to spend some time with your son," I snapped, glaring at him. He was taken aback for a second, but regained composure quickly.
"You're right. So here's the problem. The people sort of hate you right now. You haven't been on the Report at all. They want to get to know their future king. But they can't do that if you're never there. On top of that, there's the usual unrest with the castes. Rebel forces have grown stronger, as evident six months ago."
"And? What do you want me to do? Go door to door and have tea with each family?"
"No. We are going to hold a Selection for you. I'm sure you know what that is. The letters are ready but the law requires your consent. Just sign this and we are good to go," he pushed a piece of paper towards me.
"No. I will not do this. How am I supposed to deal with thirty-five girls when I can't even deal with myself?!"
"You'll learn. You don't have a choice here. Just sign it!"
"Okay, clearly my wellbeing isn't important to you. How about those girls? Sixteen-year-old girls will be able to enter. They haven't even graduated high school! They have no knowledge of how the world works, they only care about who has slept with who and how they look! How are they supposed to learn who I am when they don't know who they are themselves? It's unethical."
"You present valid points, the very same arguments I had for my Selection. The difference here is my father wouldn't listen. I want to listen to you,I want to give you time to heal! But there's nothing else we can do!"
"Sure we can! You said there's unrest with the rebels. They want the castes gone. So give them what they want, get rid of those bloody numbers!"
"As much as I'd loved to do that, it isn't possible with the limited time I have left in my rule. Traditionally, you are to be crowned when you turn twenty-one. Two years! Two years is not enough…," he trailed off, his voice becoming quieter with each word. I hung my head, feeling dejected. Until an idea popped in my head.
"We don't have to follow tradition. We can wait a few more years. All I need is eleven years. Give me until I turn thirty, then I'll take the crown."
"But what if they don't like it? If we do this, we run the risk of you entering your rule with an unhappy nation. You're my son, I can't do that."
My father collapsed into his chair, with his head in his hands. I felt bad now, for yelling at him. He hated any type of fighting. His blood pressure must've been shooting up. If only we could come up with a temporary plan. That's when it hit me.
"Temporary! Dad, what if we ran a trial run? Maybe ten years with no castes? Then if people like it, I'll make it permanent in my rule. How does that sound?"
"It could work...I'd have to run it with my advisors but yes, it could work. We'd have to make the announcement sometime in November, but it could work," he sat there, mulling it over. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.
A knock on the door sent him out of his thoughts and back to reality. The door opened revealing a maid, a snack cart in tow.
"Ah, finally. The biscuits are here," my dad waved her in, eager to dig in. My eyes stayed trained on the maid. Something about her was familiar. Her name tag read 'Lauren'. I've heard that name before, I don't remember where, though. She seemed younger than my mother but definitely older than me.
"Hold on, do I know you? I feel like we've met before however I can't seem to remember where," I asked, trying to recall where I heard her name before.
"Edith, Your Highness. I'm her mother," she answered, lowering her gaze. I turned to my father, I had a few questions to ask him.
"Why is she here? Who hired her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Your mother did. She came groveling to repay her debt."
"And you hired her? Are you paying her?"
"No, just food, water and accommodation for her and her daughter."
"You mean they live here now?" I was shocked, here was a face I thought I'd never have to see ever again. They both nodded. "Oh. I just realized. I have an appointment."
And without another word, I left.
Present Day (6 years after the bombing)
"Incoming Call from...Mom."
"What do you want, Mom?" I answered the call. Sometimes, I was grateful for the Bluetooth feature in my car.
"Oh, um, I was just wondering when you'd get here. Dinner starts soon."
"It's the same answer as five minutes ago. I'm still driving," I rolled my eyes. This was the fifth time she's called me in the past hour. She got like that every Friday when I came over for dinner. If I lived at the palace, she wouldn't have nagged me so much. But I don't regret moving out.
"Oh, but exactly when will you get here?"
"I don't know, Mom. Soon. I'm going to hang up now. Don't call me again. Oh, and tell the cooks not to make too much. I made a casserole. See you in a while."
"...Bye, honey. I love you."
My mother could be intolerable sometimes. I'm living alone, yes. But I'm a grown man, now, I can take care of myself. I didn't need a long-distance babysitter, the twenty guards she forced me to have positioned around my house were bad enough.
I could see the palace from here, so I slowed down. My mood was ruined and I didn't want to go now. I could have skipped dinner. But at the same time, I couldn't. Last time I decided to ditch, my mother sent out search parties.
"Incoming Call from...unknown number."
Of course, it hadn't even been five minutes and my mother felt the need to call again. This time, she just used someone else's phone. I could explode. I answered anyway.
"What is it now, mother? Can't I have a moment's peace! Do you want me to die in an accident? 'Cause that's what's going to happen if you keep distracting me!"
A pause on the other end. I took the time to pull over, so I wouldn't do anything stupid. I had a habit of speeding when I was angry. Good thing I was the Prince, otherwise my license would've been evoked a long time ago.
"Chill, it's not Mom. It's me, Beverly."
Oh. I now regretted answering the call the way I did. I should've stuck with the regular 'Hello?'.
"Bev? What happened to your old number?"
"Same old, same old. Ace gave it out to some college guys...again."
"Dad should probably have a talk with him. He's getting out of hand, yeah?"
Beverly just laughed in response, "Yeah, he is. He won't listen to anyone now, so Dad just gave up."
"Why'd you call?"
"Are you bringing Captain Rogers?"
"Not today, why?"
Another pause.
"It's not fair! How come you get a dog and I don't?"
"Bev, I let Captain stay with you for one week while I was at Jayson's wedding. I had to come back early because you lost him!"
"But–"
"Don't be a brat, Bev. Now, is that all you called for?"
"Yeah, I gotta go. Mom's coming."
She hung up.
My mother was there, waiting on the front steps. I parked my car near the fountain, where I always did. I got out of the car, grabbing my casserole on the way.
"Welcome home, sweetheart! You're just on time, dinner is about to be served!" she cheered.
"This isn't my home, Mom. My home is on the other side of town," I said drily.
"Of course. Here, let me take that for you," she said, reaching for the casserole bag. I sidestepped out of her reach.
"It's okay, Mom, I got it."
She simply nodded her head quietly and followed me inside. I felt bad now, she was my mother, I shouldn't have lost it on her. Plus, the casserole was getting hard to carry, seeing I was only allowed to use one hand to lift it.
"Mom, I'm sorry for losing it on you. I woke up in a band mood today and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"The bag too heavy?" she laughed. I knew then, that she had forgiven me. I chuckled alongside her.
"Yep," she took it out of my grasp, patting my good arm.
"You go on ahead and find your siblings. I'll drop this off in the kitchens and meet everyone in the dining hall."
We split up and I wandered in the general direction of the dining hall. I passed by some old pictures of me. I was happy in each and every one. So much had changed. I regretted so much. That blast cost me a hefty price. It took away everything. I couldn't run, play sports or go out with my friends anymore.
Everywhere I went I got these looks of pity. Girls crowded around me to apologize for something they weren't responsible. I wished it would all go back to normal. Where girls would scream over a picture of me, where I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't remember the last time I went on a date.
I lost so much, and yet the people still wanted to make a spectacle out of me. Everyone expected me to step up and become a sort of inspiration to others with disabilities. But I can't. How could I inspire others when I had trouble inspiring myself to get out of bed every morning?
I wasn't suicidal, exactly. I wouldn't kill myself. But if something were to happen to me...well, I wouldn't be that upset I guess.
"Nate? When did you get here?" I turned my head to see Edith standing behind me.
"A while ago," I said, turning back around. I gestured to her formal attire, "You joining us for dinner?"
"Yeah, Bev made me."
"Your mother coming?"
"No, she's out of town. She flew down to Kent yesterday, something to do with helping my uncle settle in his new house. She'll be back in two weeks, I think."
I simply nodded and continued to stare at the pictures. It's good that Lauren was taking some time off. She just worked and worked, never taking any breaks at all. She was so dedicated, but because of that, Edy hardly ever saw her.
"I'm sorry, Nate."
"For what?"
"For what happened six years ago...it was all my fault. Because of me you had to go through all this."
"Edith Madeline Ford. Don't you ever say such a thing! The only person at fault was the person who planted those bombs."
"But–!"
"No, Edith. Please don't start this, I'm already in a bad mood."
She just sighed and walked away. Hopefully, I didn't upset her too much. There were few people who liked me now, I honestly couldn't afford to lose them.
Dinner was a somber affair. All you could hear was the clatter of forks against plates. My casserole was delicious, I had to say. I was getting better at cooking every day. I could just wing all the dishes I knew and it would still come out perfect. My father cleared his throat, making everyone turn to him.
"So, Nathan, how's your dog, what was his name?"
"Captain Rogers. And he's doing well, thank you."
"Ah...I remember now, just like that old comic book character. That's wonderful...um, how's the house?"
He was doing it again. Stalling. He had something to tell me but he just couldn't do it. When it came to stuff like this, my father just needed a little push.
"What is it, Dad? Come on, spit it out," I speared a piece of broccoli into my mouth. He sighed, putting his fork down.
"It's the people, again. They're unhappy. They feel there's too much discrimination still, they want to make the castes permanent right now. There's still four years left in this project, Nathan. Your mother and I have talked and we decided a Selection would be for the best, right now."
"No, absolutely not. I'm not ready."
"You're never ready," Ace muttered under his breath.
"What'd you say?" I growled.
"I said, you're never ready. And it's apparent you're slow, too."
"Ace, don't," Beverly placed a hand on his arm. Ace just smirked in response and shrugged her off.
"What? It's true. He's too scared. Scared of a bunch of girls. Well, I guess I'd be scared too, if I were him. Who'd wanna marry a lazy, stupid handicap?"
"Really? You're going to go there? Do you really want to go there?"
"Besides, girls lost interest in him a long time ago. I mean, look at him. All he does is blame others."
"Shut up, you little–!"
"Boys! That's enough! I will not tolerate this type of behaviour in my house. Why can't you boys be more like Romeo? He never does anything wrong," Dad grumbled. Romeo just shrunk down into his seat, trying to avoid Ace's glare.
Silence. That's all there was after. Everyone just quietly sat and ate.
That night, as I lay in my bed, I couldn't forget what had transpired at dinner. Was Ace right? Was I scared? If I held a Selection, would any girls be there for me?
No, Ace was wrong. At least, that's what I wanted to prove him to be. I'd show him, I could find a wife. Just because I haven't played in a while, doesn't mean I forgot how to play the game.
It was pretty late, would my parents be awake? I decided to try my luck.
It rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, they picked up.
"Nathan? Honey, why'd you call? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?" Mom's voice sounded more panicked with each question she asked.
"Mom, calm down. I'm perfectly fine. Is Dad there?"
"...Yes. Do you want me to hand it over to him?"
"Yes, please do."
"Carson, wake up! Nathan's on the phone."
I heard some shuffling in the background. My mom kept shaking him, until he finally grunted.
"What is it, Nathan? Can't it wait until a more reasonable time?"
"Look, sorry I called so late but this is important."
"Well, go on. I don't have all night."
"I'll do it."
"Do what?"
"The Selection. I'll do it."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Alright! We'll need you to come over again. Tomorrow morning good for you?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in time for breakfast. See you then."
"Night, son."
I didn't know what was up ahead for me, but I knew it'd be a hell of a ride.
Hey guys! Hope you all are doing well. I decided to give you guys a sort of longer chapter because I don't think I'll be able to update until next week.
So, the SYOC part is now officially open. Feel free to send in a girl if you want. I also changed a few things on the form so please take a look through the whole form for the changes and adjust your entry accordingly.
And just to be clear, Captain Rogers is Nate's dog. I haven't featured him yet because I haven't decided which breed he's going to be. Does anyone have any suggestions?
Stay fab,
Star