Be warned: Here be language. Language of an impolite nature.
One
the unlikely piece of factual information that kicked my ass right into this mess
My great-grandfather on my mother's side is known to most of the world as Lord Nobel Michel XIII, the patron of the Holy Land which adopted the name of the very first Nobel Michel. Despite what most people think of him, he's really a very nice old man – the kind that adores all his grandchildren and great grandchildren and still gives you an allowance even after your parents feel you've outgrown one. When I was little, I used to think he was actually Santa Claus because I thought he must have been at least like, a hundred years old and he was always (and still is) so freaking jolly all the time.
Non (that's what I call him) is one of my favorite people in world, and in the summertime when I'm not off at school, I join him for tea every Saturday afternoon, which is the setting for what is about to be a huge turning point in my life.
Nobel Michel Castle is a world heritage site and having been there myself, I can assure you that it is absolutely spectacular. Built on the top of the hill that sits on an island floating between four spectacular countries, it feels like you can see the entire world from the castle windows. Everything inside and out is absolutely pristine, displaying a priceless collection of art, history, and architecture. My favourite place though, has to be the gardens.
The gardens are so beautiful, especially in the spring and summer when all the flowers are blooming and everything is colours with a backdrop of vivid green grass and leaves and bright blue skies. The air is so fresh and fragrant with the scent of the flowers and every once in a while, a breeze from the ocean blows by, feeling so refreshing it's hard to put such enjoyment into words.
Sitting out in the gardens at the table set up for tea across from Non, I can't help feeling a bit like I'm in a fairy tale. The sounds of Zain pouring us tea rises over the quiet din of being outdoors. I watch with open admiration as Zain gently places a cup of steaming tea in front of Non with a quiet, "my lord" and then place an identical cup in front of me, "Miss Eleanor."
"Please, call me Elle," I tell him with what I'm hoping to be my most charming smile.
Zain merely smiles politely at me in a very noncommittal sort of way before standing upright again. I catch Non's eyes and we exchange a grin; it's been a long time since Zain's polite refusal of my very open affections has bothered me. I think it comes with growing up (though apparently giving up doesn't).
"Stiff as always," I lament with a playful pout.
Non chuckles. "Ho ho, Elle, my darling, any smart man would know that he needs to keep a guard up around you."
"Grandpa, you make me sound like I'm some kind of siren!" I point out, pretending to be affronted.
"Quite the contrary my dear," he says after taking a sip of tea. "I'm sure you have a less sinister kind of charm – it seems a certain somebody has taken quite the liking to you."
His eyes pan casually to the direction of one of the trees and I follow his gaze to find Theo, the butler-in-training lurking there, watching us. I flash him a smile and the boy's cheeks turn as red as his hair as he quickly busies himself.
"But your unmistakeable charisma is beside the point," Non continues. "What I really wanted to talk about today was your future."
"My future?" I ask, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy. The truth was that I didn't have any idea what I wanted to do with my future but I certainly didn't want to tell that to Non. Usually, we talk about much lighter subjects.
"Yes," he beams. "Now that you are eighteen, I feel that it is an appropriate time to tell you."
For a moment, my eyes flicker to Zain, wondering if he knew something about what I was about to find out, but he simply smiled passively as ever. Sometimes I wonder whether the man is actually a robot – he's just… to perfect, all the darned time.
"You see, Eleanor, when the Holy Land was first established, the leaders of the world at the time set about a tradition to maintain the ties between the Holy Land and the outside world. Every fourth generation, a direct descendant of Nobel Michel must wed the heir to the throne of one of the six great kingdoms."
"Okay," I reply, not really following because Non had lost me at around the word tradition. History has never been my strong suit (my favorite subjects in school being gym and lunch). "But what does that tradition have to do with me?"
Non watched me for a moment, looking more serious than I'd probably ever seen him look in my life. "Eleanor, you are the sixteenth generation descendant of Nobel Michel, and what's more, you are my only great-granddaughter."
It took a while for the words to sink in.
"So what you're getting at is that I… am engaged to a prince." I said slowly, realizing how fantastic the words sounded coming out of my mouth.
"Not exactly," Non corrected. "But you will be. The tradition is that you announce your engagement at nineteen and you marry at twenty-one."
A spittle of tea dribbled through my lips as I choked in what I can only imagine to be a very unflattering reaction to his words. I coughed, eyes watering from the hot tea going down the wrong pipe and immediately, Zain was offering me an eyelet lace handkerchief with gentle concern in his eyes.
"Are you serious?" I wheezed, wiping my eyes.
"I am afraid so," Non said. "It is a hundred year old tradition and the countries, well aware of this already are expecting you to uphold it."
"I've never even met them though," I said quietly. "And, and…"
I found myself lost for words to say, feeling heavy with the burden of this sudden responsibility. The air around me seemed to feel more constricting, my chest was getting hot, I could hardly hear the words that Non was saying to me.
"Eleanor, the princes are all wonderful young men."
I could see the world around me getting darker, vision fading into darkness until I couldn't see even though I was conscious and I knew that my eyes were opened.
"I think you will come to be very fond of them once you've had a chance to know them…"
Then my body gave out.
The next thing I recall is waking up in the familiar room that I always stayed in when I was at Nobel Michel Castle. It was dark outside and the room was lit with the dim flickering light of candles.
"You're awake," came a subdued voice. Theo was sitting in a chair by my bed, looking worried. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," I reply, hearing my voice crack with the word. "What happened?"
"You passed out, while you were having tea with Lord Michel," Theo reminds me. "Are you sure you're alright? Everyone's been worried sick."
"I feel alright," you tell him. "I think it was just shock."
"I heard," Theo says glumly. "About you having to marry a prince."
"How could you have? I only just found out today."
"They maids were talking about it," he shrugs. "Going on about how lucky you are because you get to pick from the six most eligible bachelors to be your husband."
"Lucky?" I muse. "Guess that's one way of putting it."
"Maybe the grass is always greener?" Theo suggests.
I can't help but grin at him. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
I try to get up but Theo stands up at once, looking alarmed. "You're supposed to stay in bed and rest. I don't think Lord Michel wants you to go wandering around. Besides, there are a ton of reporters here tonight – they're just trying to catch some photos of the guests but it'd be an even bigger story if they caught one of you."
"I just want some fresh air. It's so stifling in this room."
Theo watches dubiously as you get out of bed. You smile at him in reassurance.
"It'll be fine," you tell him. "Anyways, if there are any reporters, you can protect me from them, right?"
"Uh, yeah," he replies blushing as he follows after me out of the room.
We walk together through the castle, footsteps echoing through the grand hallways of gold and marble. Distant music can be heard coming from the ballroom. I can only imagine all the people there, dressed up splendidly, lavishing in their opulent lives. The princes were down there too, Theo had said.
"Have you ever met them before?" I ask suddenly.
"What? Who?"
"The princes," I reply, turning back to look at Theo.
Theo is only a few years younger than I am, with messy red hair, and his uniform all messed up like a rebellious schoolboy. He looks nothing like butlers usually do (which is absolutely immaculate), and he's a bit outspoken, and rough with his work, but I like him. He's easy to talk to, and because he can be himself around me, I don't feel any hesitation to be myself around him too.
"I've seen them around sometimes," Theo answers. "I've never talked to any of them though."
"I don't even know what they look like," you remark, frowning.
"Don't they teach you about these things in school?"
"No," you answer bluntly.
Theo laughs. "They're all old, and shrivelled up, and ugly!"
"Hey, I have to marry one of those ugly, old, shrivelled up men!" I remind him indignantly, but I can't help joining in his contagious mirth.
The next day the realization hits me full force and I lie in bed for a long time after I wake up, letting it sink in.
Wow. I'm getting married.
My parents and Non come to visit me in my room like I'm a sick patient at a hospital. They take their seats by my bed, looking sorry and concerned.
"We're sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but we just wanted to wait until you were ready to make this kind of decision."
"And you though eighteen is a good age to decide on who you're going to marry?" I ask dryly.
"We ran out of time, honey," my father replies. "Unless you wanted us to tell you the day before the wedding."
"Guess not," I said, grinning at the ridiculous notion. "I was never one of those girls that dreamed of marrying a prince, you know."
"We know, darling," my mother says kindly, taking my hand. "But sometimes we have to do things that go beyond just helping ourselves – the least you could do is get to know them, right?"
"I suppose," I concede.
"Eleanor," Non, who's been quiet the entire time finally speaks up. "All these years, I have kept the identities of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren out of the public eye because I didn't want people to treat you differently bases on who you had for relatives, but your identity won't be a secret for long.
"On your birthday next year, we will have a ball at this castle and you shall be introduced to the world as my great-granddaughter. Until then, it is my wish that you keep your identity a secret for a bit longer, so that you may get to see the princes as they would act towards you without any bias."
"But, isn't it difficult for regular people to have an audience with a prince let alone have the amount of time it takes to get to know them?"
"I'll have everything arranged for you, if you'll agree to it," Non says with the kind of smile that tells me he's already had everything arranged long before I even knew I was supposed to think about it.
"I guess," I reply, thinking all the while that it wasn't as if I ever had a choice in the matter.
"Wonderful!" Non exclaims happily with a clap of his hands. "It shall be arranged at once – Zain, you know what to do."
Zain nods and leaves in brisk steps to do whatever mysterious business he has to do. Theo comes up to me, holding a stack of six beautifully wrapped boxes, each with a card attached to it.
"Presents," Theo explains. "From the princes, for your eighteenth birthday. Maybe it'll help you to decide which kingdom you want to go visit first."
Left to my own devices, with six gorgeous gifts laid out in front of me, I looked at each one, wondering which one I was going to open first.
I was going to make this longer, but I thought I would get your input (if you please):
What would the princes send as a present?
Also, who do you want to see picked first?