Fallout
In the previous chapter, Ernest, Nereida, and a few other girls went out clubbing. While they learn an interesting piece on Blair's past in terms of castes—an illogical change—Nereida and Ernest also share a moment alone outside. Ernest remembers that the predominant reason they are keeping their relationship secret is his grandfather, but he is confident he can overcome that.
Prior to his next date, Xander buries himself in work—to avoid the fact that Irina is part of that date. Nonetheless, she follows the tradition and comes to see him, and brings up the topic of his workload and Adrian's lack of engagement in the government. She reminds him that he has, essentially, no free time, but Xander avoids it, until promising to speak to Adrian again, this time using foreign negotiations as point.
The day's date includes Irina, Kate and Andreia, all heading to the FandomCon, a convention focusing on pre-Illéan fandoms. Xander soon finds himself spending a bit of time with each girl on her own; with Andreia, he discusses the truth about the Air Force hack and why he shared that with her, as well as tries (and fails) to play League of Legends. With Irina, he speaks about LotR and New Zealand, and they come to the topic of where he wants to travel, and Xander's relatives. When the topic moves to Xander's fixation around avoiding love and finding the right Queen, the conversation goes awkward. Things are left avoided and unsaid. With Kate, he learns about her love for books and disdain for Young Adult love triangles. The date ends when Kate promptly joins a streamed debate and is recognised. In the car, she doesn't take her own actions very well.
Chapter 34
»Who's Truffle?«
Adrian's Study in the Palace, Los Angeles, Angeles
King Adrian of Illéa
This wasn't going to be a long conversation, Adrian had decided.
When the footman came with his son's request to speak, he knew what would be coming. There had been a meeting on military matters, and knowing his father-in-law, Jonathan had pushed Xander to, once again, bring up Adrian's position in the government.
But he didn't understand. No one did.
"Xander, come in," he spoke, as formal and regal as he could, when his son stepped into the door frame. Adrian stood—with the purpose of reminding his son who (technically) held the power in Illéa. What an irony, he thought.
"Shall we sit?" Xander suggested after greeting his father.
Adrian hesitated. Xander wanted to get comfortable. Personal. Was he going to guilt-trip him? Because if—that wouldn't work. Sophia had tried. Jonathan had. Even Helena had, though her attempts always had been futile. He knew better than to let that work, at least. After all that happened—
"Alright. What is it, son?"
"I would like to ask you for your advice."
"Regarding the Selection?" Adrian brought up, because by no means did he wish to discuss the country. Illéa was rebuilding well enough. There were no major debates that Adrian—who had, admittedly, avoided any news sources—had heard of, too. He reasoned his peace of mind with that.
"No. Regarding foreign relations. How much do you know about the British-New Asian tensions?"
Little. They had been there when Adrian had ruled, but he had a country torn apart by war and hatred to deal with. "Has much changed?" he asked.
"New Asia has returned to expanding into the southern sea. Britain sees that as a possible threat to Australia and New Zealand, their major allies—and still claims that Singapore and Hong Kong should join them."
A ridiculous debate that had only come to be under the rule of the disinterested British king—his House of Lords wanted more influence on New Asia for trade and economy. Their king didn't know how, or wanted, to control their House of Lords, leaving them free reign. Including their insistence that removing New Asian imports (never a good idea) and exporting goods (what were they planning, opium?) there. Adrian knew so much. He was glad that Illéa operated on a sterner, the throne-rules-all basis. No one could tell him what to do—not officially or by protocol. That didn't mean everyone didn't tell him to get back to work.
But they don't understand.
Yet, he was a father. He had to be there for his son, as long as he could. "What is your concern?"
"I met with the New Asian president a month ago. I promised we would stay neutral; given the rebuilding and restoration, I expected Britain to accept that. However, they have been pushing in Europe and to be honest, I think they will expect us to join their side eventually. Our peace with New Asia is fragile at best, too—"
"If major European forces pledge support to Britain, war will happen." Adrian agreed. "Russia, Arabia, and Middle Eastern powers will want a say too."
"We must remain neutral, for Illéa's sake. We cannot stomach another war; the Navy has had budget cuts for years to support the army during the Unrest, and the Air Force is still in pieces. We cannot fight another war, on our or foreign soil"
"Do you expect Britain to put pressure on us?" They certainly could, risking the trade of his nation.
"They do have treaties—and influence in Europe. Unless all of Europe says no to them, I doubt it. We don't have a history of peace as other nations do to claim." Illéa and some of its predecessors had the opposite, to be exact. "Britain won't let us claim 'we need to rebuild' forever."
Even if it hadn't even been a year.
"What is Italy doing?"
"I'm not sure. I planned to speak with Uncle Carlos when he comes here."
"Amelie is coming… Right, I remember." He clenched his fist. Adrian dreaded to see his sister again. He loved her with all his heart, but by all means, she would lecture him.
"I was thinking—what if we facilitate a summit? With New Asia and Britain?"
"The Commonwealth is too involved to just include Britain. If you include the Commonwealth, New Asia will want to include their closest allies," Adrian reminded him.
"New Asia absorbed most of their closest allies since Illéa was formed."
Ah, superpowers playing chess. Or salami tactics, whatever you wanted to call it. How much he loved it. Not. Adrian used to like foreign politics, once. When all the wars happened regarding oil and what not, and Illéa could do their happy fracking at home, and the only issue was the growing unrest (and the good old economic difficulties, he had to add) in Illéa.
"I'm aware."
"Who would they want to come, then? They don't have many allies. Russia, maybe, but they have their own tensions."
"I expect that New Asia would want to invite Arabia. Possibly Middle Eastern countries too, or Russia. Not for support, but because their own ambitions would make work much more difficult for Britain."
"So, you are suggesting a summit of various powers. What about European ones?"
"Tricky. Most European countries have an alliance, one way or another, with Britain, but rely on New Asia for trade, so they'll want to remain neutral." Adrian paused. "Don't pose it as a summit regarding the tension. Make it an international one. Discuss trade, environment protection, science. Human rights and whatnot. There's always something that needs to be discussed. bring up the tensions somewhere, but don't make it look the way."
"Do you suggest to put on something akin to the United Nations?" Xander knew his history; he knew of that organization that had fallen during World War Three. Inevitable. There had been more, afterwards. He had lost track. There was just a pretty bunch of exclusive flats (of which more than one was owned by the royal family; Sophia had stayed there) in New York that survived many years of war and time, that used to belong to that. Plus, someone rumoured there was a bordell in there, but Sophia digressed.
"Not entirely, but similar. More like a G20 with possibly a few more countries. We'd need to see."
"We? Will you involve yourself?"
Foreign politics were so much easier. They didn't involve the people hating his beloved. They didn't involve them spreading lies. They merely involved Lysandre loving the idea of seeing the world with him.
Yet, if he returned to foreign politics, he would be expected to return to the throne and that meant to—that damned image came back—pain. Pain spread from his chest as if a dagger had hit him there. It wasn't the pain of a wound, or of falling down, or a burn. It was different. Much different. He knew it wasn't real but it was there and—
"Father?"
Xander knew what was happening when the King leaned forward. Xander knew what was happening when air stopped coming into his father's lungs. Xander knew how bad that pain could be.
God knew how long it stayed. It felt like years. It wasn't even a mere minute.
It ended. Eventually, it always did. But the images that were burned into his mind—they didn't go. He didn't think of them, but he knew they were there—always lurking, always ready to come out and remind him. Remind him of the pain. Remind him of the body of his dead wife.
"I'll figure things out," Xander said, not needing an answer. He knew—understood to some degree—that as long as that pain was here, Adrian wouldn't return. He couldn't. "Please excuse me."
It's not real pain.
It's fear, maybe.
Not panic, just fear—and guilt.
Guilt for being here and remembering it. For not being able to go into that image and change it. Hatred for letting these things happen, and fear that it would come again.
/ / /
Victoria's sitting room in the Palace, Los Angeles, Angeles
Prince Ernest of Illéa
Ernest decided he would get things moving. There was no need to wait for anything, really. (Except the impending threat of Jonathan destroying the one thing he thought about every single day simply because he had, as younger version of himself, made mistakes involving a Russian princess among other things which everyone had forgotten by now). There was only a family to convince that Nereida was the beautiful, perfect person that she was. His stars.
His left hand idly in hers, he stepped into his youngest sister's sitting room. He had previously informed her, of course, that he would come by with a visitor. Victoria had gotten better, going by Xander, but that didn't mean that Ernest had seen much of her.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Tori, wary as always, said.
Ernest didn't know where exactly Tori came from—only that she had helped Xander and Victoria and was to be trusted, apparently. Usually, Ernest tended to be polite to the advisors to the Crown. Tori—well, she was another thing.
She had that certain something about her. The type he would—in the past, of course—flirt with. Also the fact that she hovered over Tori like no one else.
"It'll be fine," Ernest replied.
"I doubt that."
He sighed. "I did not ask for your opinion." Tori was weird enough, in the way that she acted around authority. She came from Xander's friends among the military, but Jonathan didn't like her. Jonathan not liking her was probably the best part of this all. The worst was that he tended to agreeing with him.
"Well, I'm—" Tori's comeback was interrupted by the arrival of the princess in question. Tori looked to Victoria, who had come through the door. "Hi, Vic," she said. At least she knew not to be aggressive to her.
"You've come," Victoria stated. She wasn't surprised—fortunately—but that was given; Ernest had asked her. Victoria Illéa, the little sister that used to push him into pools and oceans for the fun of it, looked like a ghost.
He nodded. "How's your day been?" he asked after Nereida waved hello to his sister too.
"Vic, are you sure that you—"
"Good," Victoria replied, overlooking Tori. "I went to the meeting with the task force focusing on Sumner's rebuilding today. With Xanxan, I mean."
"That sounds fun," Ernest replied, as cheerful as he could. Not that he genuinely cared (thank god his 'work' was limited to 'less important tasks' and Jonathan trying to keep him away of seeing the love of his life by giving him boring military work he had no ideas of), but if it made Vic happy, then it was worth it.
"What's a task force?" Nereida asked, curious.
"It's a group of government officials tasked with dealing with a certain project," Victoria replied, to Tori's and his own surprise. She sat down, and Ernest followed the motion. Victoria's voice was calm, too calm for her. Of course, she had (first) refused to see Ernest and 'another special someone', leading to him having to break his secret to her. She agreed, then. To his honest surprise.
"What are you working on?"
"I'm not part of it," Victoria shook her head. "Xanxan doesn't want me to."
Ernest frowned. "Why not?" Was this part of the 'keep Vic safe' part? She was fine—Xander had said that himself.
"I don't know." Victoria shrugged. "The task force met with some others, Xanxan, and a few advisors. We were talking about the construction of the new cities, timeframes, finances, and logistics."
"Fun," Ernest remarked. Nereida, though, was listening to each word. He doubted she'd actually be interested in it if he heard how boring these things actually were, but if it made her happy…
"What about you?"
"I don't have lessons this morning."
"Lessons? On what?"
"Today's lessons are on ballroom dance," Nereida explained, "but I can do that and the instructors want to focus on the girls that still have trouble with the basics, so I was excused." She smiled to herself. "Props of being a dancer."
Ernest chuckled. "I'm meant to write outlines for the Report, but… I could also spend time with this lovely lady here."
"Me!" Vic laughed out. It was good to hear her laughing.
"I actually meant Nereida," he smiled at her, "but you're good, too."
Victoria grimaced. "He's not the right choice," she told Nereida. "Believe me. I've known Ernie for a while."
Getting out, Ernest assumed, had made a difference to Victoria. She wasn't always wary of him and didn't question anymore if he was actually her brother. His glance fell on Tori, still watching them like a hawk. Given Tori's position, he expected her to come into these meetings too—why was she so wary of Victoria meeting people?
"I think I can deal with him." Nereida leaned onto him. "I've done that often enough."
"Yes," Ernest chuckled, "please deal with me. Vic is just going to try and drown me."
"Drown you?" Nereida asked confused. "You're an okay swimmer, though—except for that one time when we were out on that ship…"
"Please don't remind me," Ernest laughed out. "It wasn't my fault that we got that far off the beach!"
"Who did I task with steering the board?" Nereida repeated.
"Me, but—Okay, maybe."
"Ha!" Nereida laughed. "It was fun, though. And we got to see the sky."
"We did, indeed."
Ernest leaned in to kiss Nereida. He, and Nereida too, ignored his sister who was turning white as they spoke. Ernest only noticed when Tori moved next to the young princess and placed a hand on her skirt.
"Vic? Can you hear me?"
He looked at his sister. "Hm?"
"I—yes. I'm fine."
"Are you sure? You don't need to do this, Vicky, you can—"
"Tori," the princess insisted—less forceful than Ernest knew her, though, "please. We want to—"
"I don't want to see you like this, though."
"Yes, but—"
"I think it'd be better if you left it up here for today and—"
"Miss Belasko," Ernest began, "did you not hear Vic? She's fine."
Tori turned to him with a frown. "I'm not entirely sure that you understand her state of mind, Your Highness," she hissed.
"But if she says—" Nereida spoke, again interrupted.
"Victoria does not know what's best for her," Tori insisted. "I'm sure that Xander agrees with me when I say that she should take a break. Relax. I'm sure this can happen another day when she's doing better."
Ernest clenched his fist. He needed Vic on his side; whatever had happened wouldn't put Nereida in such a good light once he told his family.
"Vic, what do you think?" he asked, hoping to find her on his side.
"I—"
"I'm fairly sure," Tori replied in her stead, "that the whole talk about the damages of the Unrest wasn't good for her. I'll speak to Xander; I'm sure we can find Victoria a less endangering task."
"Endangering?" Nereida repeated. "How is an office meeting dangerous?"
"Trauma, Lady Nereida," Tori muttered. "Come, Vic. Let's go."
Even though Victoria, at first, opened her mouth to protest, Tori's expression silenced her—or so, Ernest thought. She rose, muttered something that vaguely sounded like court speech for 'Leave, now' and left them to head to her private quarters.
Nereida turned to Ernest. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, jumping to a conclusion immediately.
"I don't think so," Ernest replied, bitter. "If even, we said something that triggered some bad memory."
"Oh…" Nereida looked down. "I'm sorry, I—"
"But honestly, she and dad need to learn how to deal with that. She can't spend her life hiding in her bedroom, can she?" he insisted. "She even wanted to stay, I'd say."
"But didn't Miss Belasko say—"
"I don't even know why she's here," Ernest hissed. "She's one of Xander's friends. Someone who helped him save Vic, yes, but how does that enable her to watch after Vic? Does she have a psychology degree?"
"Maybe…?"
"Given her age, I'd doubt it."
"Will you talk to your brother?" Nereida suggested. "I'm sure he—"
"You heard her. Xander is on her side. He thinks it's good to leave her like this, but I don't think that'll work on the long term. Look at her! She's not being all 'is this Ernie?!' anymore."
"Ernie?" Nereida chuckled.
"She's got a thing for nicknames. She's changed. Getting out to the meetings helped her."
"So…?"
"If Tori is keeping her locked inside, then she won't get better. She needs real help, I think…" Ernest sighed. "I'd like to, but I bet the moment I make a move, Jonathan is going to jump in and tell me to lay off. I need to figure him out first, either way because we are still here and—"
Nereida looked down. "Ernest?" she asked.
"Yes?"
"Would it be bad to ask to first focus on us, then deal with your sister?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're worrying about Victoria. That makes sense," she mumbled, "but couldn't you first make sure that Jonathan isn't standing in our way? I'm—what if he hears about us before you've finished your plans?"
"Then—" Ernest stopped. Then chances were that Xander would eliminate Nereida and Ernest would be banished to some new rural province. "You're right. Vic can wait. I'm sure Sophy is already on this. She's better at comforting people either way…"
Nereida smiled. "Shall we go and drink our tea then? Oooh, we could get bubble tea!"
"I would love that," Ernest smiled. That didn't mean that he didn't exchange messages with his sister.
/ / /
Ernie, Tori is being all worried but at some point, we definitely need to do a tea time with Truffle. – Vic
Who's Truffle? – Ernest
You-know-who – Vic
Voldemort?! Do you want to start the Cursed Child debate again? – Ernest
Your girlfriend. And Cursed Child is terrible. – Vic
You haven't seen the play itself, Vic. But I agree with the rest. – Ernest
/ / /
In a subtle, empty pub in Los Angeles, Angeles
Officer Evan Cavanah
Evan was pretty sure that the only reason Xander was able to come today was Irina pressuring him into it. Part of him wasn't fond of that idea—the whole 'Irina is in the Selection' still felt off to him—but part of him was glad enough that he saw his best friend outside work for once. That being said, the number of jokes in regards to Irina winning the Selection Evan had heard were ridiculous! Ridiculous because they didn't have the insider knowledge of a royal guard. In the end, though, he didn't mind Xander being around, even if Irina was there too. They were friends, after all, and while the whole world knew what was going on in his life, he was pretty interested in the insider information himself.
Curiously enough—and good for his latest bet—Irina had come along too. As of now, she was sitting with Evan, Xander, and their closest friends, idly chatting about the girls. Of course, everyone was interested. This was the Selection, they claimed.
They totally didn't plan to tease Xander to death or anything.
Given that some of their friends were also members of the royal guards, at least one of them had been with them to the convention and was well aware of what had transpired during the last date, including Katheryn Blanchard's infamous impromptu Ted talk.
"Are you going to eliminate her?" someone asked. Evan didn't pretend to not notice Irina's head darting to the Crown Prince. "If she continues like that, she's going to cause heaps of trouble. I wouldn't want a Queen like that…" he pointed out. Again, he didn't pretend not to notice Irina nodding slightly.
"No," Xander replied.
Irina frowned now. "Why not? She just walked on stage and began talking, ignoring any security measures—and nearly pushing us into god-knows-what."
"She had something to say, and she said it."
"About books," someone mocked. "What even is this Twilight?"
"An old Young Adult series," Xander replied aside. "I do agree that Katheryn needs to learn a little more as to how people will react, but given her background, you cannot blame her for it. She doesn't know better."
"But we need a Queen that knows better," Irina muttered. Evan doubted she intended her words to be heard by the prince.
"What about the stuff on the Selection being like a Young Adult book?" the same friend, Oliver, asked again. "When you two were talking—and sorry for listening in, but I'm meant to protect you guys—she seemed to be talking it down."
"It brings in an interesting perspective," Xander said.
"You sound like a politician," Evan huffed.
"I am a politician." Yeah, okay, he had a point.
"He means that you're as vague as humanly possible," Oliver replied. "Interesting perspective? What? We're your friends, Xander—you can tell us!"
"It's… I'm interested in what she means. I don't think I understand it yet—"
"She said that the Selection is a crappy romance novel," Oliver deadpanned. "Given her opinion on that, I doubt she'd like it."
"Didn't you say you don't want people who don't want to be in the Selection to be in it?" Evan wondered. He didn't mean it to be offensive, but seeing Xander's expression move—it was. Oh well, Evan sighed. That was his problem—if he was that protective of a stranger. Maybe Xander liked someone after all.
Doubtful, given his irrational fear of that.
That and Irina.
"I do doubt that she dislikes the Selection. She seems far too engaged into it for that."
"Your mother also seemed to like your father and—"
"Oliver," Xander hissed, "the rumors that my mother did not love my father were always pointless."
"The Queen Mother seems to think otherwise," Oliver pointed out.
"It's common knowledge that grandmother disliked my mother. There's no arguing in that." Xander frowned. "Oliver, you should know better than that."
Oliver shrugged. "Just trying to be helpful."
"You are not being helpful," the prince insisted.
"Your parents aside," Irina moved on—Evan was pretty sure that Xander was physically relaxed—and sat up. "There's no logic here, though. You say that because you feel like she wants to stay?"
"What do you think?" Oliver asked her. "You probably spend more time with the girls than Xander."
"I have a country to run," he huffed.
Even though Oliver was about to speak up again, Irina shut up. "Katheryn is pretty free-spirited. I have yet to hear her discussing the Selection in particular." Then again, from what Evan had noticed, the girls weren't all giggling and talking about Xander all the time either. Irina probably expected that, but fortunately, they did not. They had their own lives. "I can't pinpoint anything specific."
"There we go," Xander nodded. "I'm not going to eliminate her based on something you, Oliver, think she thinks."
"You could ask her," Irina suggested. "Just to clarify—it won't hurt and would ease your consciousness. She could only be here to catch ideas for something she writes, after all."
And chances are, Evan thought, you want her to exactly admit that.
The conversation—thankfully—moved on from the Selection. Xander was more than adamant about keeping it away from that, and eventually, the group of friends broke apart a bit. Good for Evan—he wanted to speak to his sister.
"So, what's with you and Xander?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Irina frowned. "I'm part of his Selection, but we all know that it's not about love."
"Is it now?" Evan rose his eyebrows.
He could practically feel Irina blush. "Besides, I've been on one date with him. Where does this all come from?" Irina demanded.
"You seem quite concerned about Xander being interested in Katheryn."
"Of course, I am!" she insisted. "Only a Took would want someone like her on the throne. She'd probably start a war by accident."
"And absolutely no feelings are involved," Evan stated, as sarcastic as he could.
"Of course not. I'm no—"
"Dude," Evan huffed, "the other girls may not notice, but the staff does. When's the last time you hung out with Andreia and your friends among the Selected outside classes and food? Ocassional revising?"
"Why that, now?"
"Because, while I don't know what they think, the staff is very aware of your rather frequent visits to Xander's office. The guard's bet pools are ridiculously in your favor."
"I—there are bet pools?" Irina frowned. "That's very unprofessional, Evan."
"Of course, there are bet pools."
"Who's your bet on?"
Evan pursed his lips. "That's a secret. I can't tell you; I'd influence how my bet goes."
"Betting is a—"
"No need to reprimand me for joining the betting pool, Irina. I'm more interested in you and Xander."
"There is no 'me and Xander', Evan. Especially not after yesterday."
Evan frowned. "What happened?"
Thankfully, Evan was her brother and had always been the local therapist to his sister. "We were talking about traveling, and we ended up on the topic of who he'd chose at the end of the Selection, and I swear, there's more to this all than just the 'I'm worried that I'll choose the wrong person; look at what dad did' thing. It's frustrating, you know?" Irina leaned back. "You're trying to be helpful, and he just doesn't come out with it!"
"… Elaborate, please?"
Irina lowered her voice. "He's afraid of falling in love. I assume that is because his dad chose the wrong person to be Queen and because the last time he did, it was with a rebel."
"Tori. Right. I remember."
"That is all I know about, but I swear, there's more to it."
"Why do you think so?" Just hearing that, it sounded real enough.
"If he was so worried about falling in love with the wrong person and choosing the wrong Queen, then why wouldn't he choose a person appropriate for it?" Irina asked. "He'd save time and money by ending the Selection."
Evan paused. Irina was clearly missing something important. A Fool of a Took herself, she was.
"So," he began, hoping to confirm his suspicions, "if he chose, say, Lady Andreia tomorrow, you think it'd be good?"
"I—no."
"Why not? She has a crystal-clear track record, a family dedicated to the country and she's even your friend. I'm sure if you wanted political influence, you'd have it there."
"No," Irina insisted. "I—I wouldn't…" She paused. "Andreia is following the law too much. She lacks critical thinking skills when it comes to it."
"What are you basing that on?"
"We were discussing ethics in the law in one class, and Isla brought up someone stealing apples to allow his family to survive. Andreia's verdict was conviction adequate to the crime." Irina explained. "Enough other people suggested that instead of being given prison time or a fine, he should return the apple to the owner and apply for community aid. Isla insisted that it was the government's job to prevent this from happening, but Andreia remained with her verdict."
"I see. What about Leila? I doubt she would have said that."
"Yes, she agreed with Isla's idea."
"So, if he chose her tomorrow, then?"
"She—I—" Irina paused.
"Irina, there's no need to think of a reason why Leila Sinclair isn't an appropriate winner. Admit it."
"Admit what?"
Gosh, his sister could be so stubborn… "You want to win."
"Of course, I do. I want to—"
"Make a difference and whatnot," Evan finished. He rolled his eyes. "And you like Xander. Because otherwise, logic dictates that having a close enough connection with anyone high up in the government would mean you have influence either way."
"I—not entirely true, because—" Irina stuttered.
Evan deadpanned.
"I really don't like—"
"You're jealous of Kate because Xander evidently has a 'not logical' reason to keep her in the Selection. And not logical, for you, equals to emotions. Read—he may like her."
"I…" Irina sighed. "Alright, I may like him as a friend but that doesn't change that he is being ridiculous on—"
"Irina, I'm pretty damn sure that Xander isn't just looking to find a Queen—as much as we throw around the job interview joke. He's seen what his parents had. He wants to find love too."
"I—" She sighed. "I'm sure he'd—"
"Talk to him. I don't want to spell this out for you."
/ / /
Orange Sitting Room in the Palace, Los Angeles, Angeles
Rowan Johansson
With their lessons finished for today, Rowan strolled ahead to join Owen and Annie. After all, how could she stay without her two siblings for more than a few mere hours? She smiled upon finding Annie dressed in a fluffy dress, and Owen in the corner reading. Their childminder stepped aside, Isla followed in.
"Rowan!" Annie Johansson called out. "We went and looked at paintings today!"
"Oh, did you?" Rowan, kneeling down, asked. "Were they pretty?"
"Not as pretty as my own!"
Isla's niece giggled. "I think the one of the Queen was the prettiest! She looked like a fairy!"
"Maybe she is one?" Annie wondered out loud.
Isla frowned. "I would doubt that…" she muttered under her breath.
"Why's that?" Rowan's Annie asked. "She looks so pretty! Have you seen the dresses? Oh, can we go and see the dresses?"
Isla sighed to herself and joined Rowan on the floor. She hesitated for a moment, taking in her niece's hug. "Because, you know, fairies would make sure that everyone is happy and safe, and sometimes, I'm not sure if that's so true."
The door behind Rowan opened and closed. This time, Owen looked up and waved at Leda who had come to join them. He had grown so fond of Leda explaining to him simple maths; Rowan couldn't help but smile.
"Miss Leda!" he called out. "I finished your problems."
"Oh, that's great!" Leda called out. "Will you show them to me?"
"A moment, please." Owen fiddled with his papers.
Rowan herself frowned. It wasn't a good idea to speak against the Queen like that, she believed. Of course, the Crown itself, in Rowan's mind too, was imperfect, but she wanted to stay, allow Annie and Owen a better future. "Why would you think that?" she thus asked, skeptic. Leda, surely, would hear that.
"It's Sumner. It's not getting better. The cities are left abandoned, crime is spreading. I've spoken to Xander—I thought I had convinced him, but it appears they are left alone. It's frustrating."
"You could," Leda suggested, "donate what you earn through the Selection to Sumner."
Isla frowned. "I need the money myself."
"You seem quite well here. Annie is with you. Is there anything else you need?"
"Excuse me?" Isla blurted out. "Do you have any idea how my life looks like? I need the money to survive myself."
"So, in the end, do you not care for the people of Sumner, who need the money more than them? You're doing fine right now. You are a Three now. You can go, get yourself a scholarship for merely being a Selected and leave that life behind."
Rowan glanced to Leda—why? Why challenge her like that? "Leda, I think—"
"Of course, I do care!" Isla called out. "But I need to make sure that Annie and I will be fine, even beyond the Selection. Do you even care?"
"Have I ever claimed to care?" Leda dared.
"What—?!" Isla hesitated. "I think…" she broke off. Glanced to Annie, the concerned Rowan, and her siblings. She shook her head, rose, with her niece's hand in hers. "I think it'll be better if we leave," she replied. Such a cold face, Rowan thought.
"… Where did that come from?" she asked, once Isla was gone, and Annie looked at her, in confusion.
"I'm concerned what associating with Isla will lead to." Leda replied and took a seat. She skimmed Owen's work. Lead to what? "She, quite openly, opposes a government decision in regards to Sumner. In times like these, the government needs to appear unified. They have enough problems on their own on that front; they don't need a Selected opposing them as well."
"… You're concerned we'll be eliminated with her."
"Exactly," Leda smiled. "Besides, Isla may have good intentions, but look at her. She's a Seven and has shown no interest in court procedures past the lessons."
"I'm a Seven," Rowan pointed out, hurt. She hadn't expected that from Leda, out of all people. Leda, who almost knew about everything back home. Who listened to the times the economy at home collapsed into pieces.
"Yes, but you do learn. You may be slower than others, but you do learn."
"What do you mean with no interest in court procedures?" she asked, still wary.
"She learns protocol, listens and works in class, but she only does that much. She doesn't do research on her own—the most she does is hang out with Zarah and Ami, and we both know neither is fit for the throne."
Rowan nodded. True. They all waited for Zarah's elimination. Ami, a Two, was more questionable, but if what Leda said was true, then her association was it all. "What are you implying?"
"She has no real shot, if she doesn't understand that for politics, you need to have more than merely good ideas."
"What do we have?" Rowan asked. Leda smiled. There was more, but Rowan didn't understand that yet.
/ / /
Author's Note
I like my politics. Adrian's/Xander's/anyone's opinions aren't neccessarily my own, but rather meant to be explorative of what the characters, given their background, would think. I also got to elaborate a bit on Adrian's wellbeing. I'm definitely not happy with how it was written, but I struggle to put exactly what's going on into words, but I hope I managed to convey the feeling. At least Vic's doing better. She made another friend! :D
Let me know what you think! Irina finally admitted that she may like Xander 'as friends', but now he seems interested in Kate…? Let me know what you think! :D