Content warning: Greetings all! As with last chapter, there is some discussion of (male) infertility that may be distressing to some. Skip to the first line break if you don't want to read it.
Otherwise, enjoy.
Of all the things I think Roy might say, it definitely wasn't that.
Suddenly everything makes sense. Suddenly clarity shines a ray on the argument between him and Cami. Their behaviour. Cami's pensive mood. Roy's downcast eyes, so close to breaking point.
He's struggling to have children. What am I supposed to even say to that?
Roy barely moves, barely blinks, as if giving me time to process the words. There's a deep-rooted pain now that is unmistakeable, a dark pool of anguish that hides beneath the bright spots of his eyes.
How could I have not guessed it before?
"You don't think you can have children? Does that mean… not at all?" I murmur, so disbelieving that this is the only thing I can ask. I immediately regret the question when his face crumples.
"The chances are so low that it's not even worth being naïvely hopeful," he continues quietly, staring black-faced at the portrait. "We've been trying for over two years. At first we thought it was Cami, but tests came back and she was fine, and when they tested me…. I don't want to go into details, but there's something wrong with the way my body makes the ingredients for a child. We've been trying IVF but nothing has stuck. Nothing. Yesterday we got the most recent results in, and failure, failure, failure. And it's all because of me."
I know it's selfish to think it, selfish to even feel it, but guilt piles so high on my shoulders from accusing him of cheating. He was using Lilly as comfort, a shoulder, a friend. They never needed to speak or sign to one another – sometimes actions were worth a thousand words.
I startle. What about Cami? The words cross my lips, but I hesitate. How must she feel?
"The best medical professionals," he mumbles, cutting my shock in half, "but none of them can help. It's just my useless body."
"You're not useless," I protest. "It's not your fault."
"Not you too," he snaps. "I can't stand it. That's what Cami keeps telling me. I can't give her a child. She pretends everything's okay, but she's hurting too. I know she… I can hear her when she thinks I'm asleep. Sobbing into her pillow."
The image tears a gash in my chest.
"Did she leave this morning because of this?"
"I asked her to," he mumbles. "She's gone to her cousin Sadie's place. So she can mourn without me to remind her what I can't give her."
I don't feel like there's anything I can say that can comfort him. I don't understand his pain, his obvious anguish, but I do sympathise with him. I see old memories of their argument play back in vivid thought, and it releases a pressure behind my eyes, which follow in fat tears dropping down my cheek. He must know how irrational his reaction is. He must.
"Roy, I-I don't know everything, but I do know that Cami loves you and she would never want you to self-destruct like you're doing now. You… you shouldn't push her away."
He glares at me beneath a hooded, pained gaze. "I didn't tell you for your condolences, Gail. I told you so you wouldn't go around thinking I'd cheated on her."
"I don't care." I take his hand, noticing more than ever before how thin the flesh is around bone. "It's not your fault. You can't help the way you were made. If you push Cami away… you're only going to make it harder on yourself and her."
He snatches his hand back.
"And the country?"
"What?"
"The country, Gail! The bloodline!" What bursts from his mouth is not a laugh, but hysteria. "I can't even continue the Schreave name!"
That's the last thing on my mind, but I guess, to Roy, it's one of the most important factors. He is Illéa's king, and he must not believe he's let them down.
"You can adopt."
"I know that. I… we will, if all else fails. But it's not the same. No one will ever accept an adopted child as the true heir."
He stands, shakes his head, fiddles with his hands and paces back and forth in front of the family portrait. I notice the way he gazes at Appa in the painting, in a way that seems like he longs for his moral support and guidance.
"I need to go. Too much work to do." He glares at my down the bridge of his nose. "Don't tell anyone. Don't tell Mother. Don't tell Lilly."
Omma I understand, but… "Don't tell Lilly?"
"She doesn't know anything. I just told her I was having a hard day. Nightmares."
That makes things so much more complicated.
I rise. "Roy, this isn't—"
"I'm not interested—"
"Forget what the public think!" I shout over him. "Forget what anyone else thinks. Forget about the bloodline and purists. If you want a child, you should adopt. It's your happiness, and I will support you the whole way."
But he scoffs. "I don't want your damn advice, Gail." He looks at me like my naïveté is my downfall. "I don't have the luxury of being able to take it."
And then he takes off down the corridor, no matter how loudly I call after him, leaving me to weep beneath the heavy gaze of my perfect family portrait.
I haven't seen Roy for days.
This isn't the first time he's mysteriously vanished. It's a big palace and he's a busy person, after all. During these last few years there have been days, sometimes weeks, when I wouldn't see him, and I guessed it was just work. He'd come back all smiles and joy and teasing Cami, and I'd feign hurt that he disappeared for so long because he was avoiding me. Roy would confirm it with his exuberant vanity, Cami would use her wit to tease him, and everything would go back to normal.
But now seeing his absence – both of their absences, with Cami still away – at the dinner table carves a hole in my heart. Now I see why they've both been gone so long.
They're mourning what could've been.
I consider going to Roy's quarters to visit – doesn't take a genius to figure out he's not coping well – but I hesitate and chicken out every time. Roy doesn't need me there to comfort him. He made that clear. I'm just a reminder about bloodline and family and unspoken secrets.
But it's been five whole days with no appearance and worry eats at me, even as I play on the ice.
"Too slow, Susanetta!" Bellona barks from the side lines as we practice another manoeuvre. "Your speed is your asset! Use it!"
"Y-Yes, ma'am!" I call back, trying to focus.
I don't beat my record for the obstacle course – cones, helmets, and even chairs dumped onto the rink to serve as opponents. I'm too jittery, too wound up. Bellona gives me side eye as I finish the course and skate to the back of the line, but doesn't make a further comment, and calls up Willow next.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Rose asks as I reach her side. "You've been so distracted these last few sessions."
"I'm fine," I say.
Her cheeks puff. "That's a big lie. There's something on your mind. Is everything okay?"
"Yes. It's just… family things."
"Oh. Is it… Linkle? Or Addie?"
"No, no." Both Zelda and Aderyn have been similarly wary for me since discovering the source of Roy's pain, but I haven't shared it with either of them. It's too personal, even for my best friend and lady's maid, and I know it would only hurt Roy more. "No, they're fine. Just, erm, stuff with our parents."
She rubs my arm in a sympathising way. "Hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on, but I hope it gets better."
Yeah. You and me both, Rose.
The training session draws to a finish. Everyone's still in high spirits since the successful match against the Oakland Onions two days ago – the match I didn't go to. All day there's been cheers and chatter celebrating my replacement, Madison, who clocked three goals in the last five minutes, and only Rose, Beverly and Janet are acknowledging that I still exist, that I'm still an All-Star, still part of the team.
"Settle down, ladies." Bellona, with Zelda in her Linkle outfit, skate to the front as the rest of us quiet. "Two wins under our belt is nothing to scoff at, but it's certainly not peak of the mountain yet. I have a different proposition for you all today. Not quite hockey related, but in your own and your team's best interests."
I watch Zelda's face. There's a clear grimace there, even if she hides it under a toothy grin.
"There was a particular group of enthusiastic hockey fans at the last game that you may recognise: the CEO and directing board of All-Star Almonds, the largest almond business in Angeles, and they were extremely impressed with your performance. They've been in contact with us and wish to discuss possible investment and sponsorship."
A little gasp rips from my mouth at the same time it does everyone else's. This is huge for a rink on the verge of being closed and a team on the verge of being axed. It's funding, it's money. It could save the Angeles All-Stars.
"Naturally there's already a connection, both of us being All-Stars," she says with a modicum of amusement. "So they've asked us to attend a formal dinner tomorrow night to introduce us to one another which, if it goes well, will likely lead to a solid business partnership. I don't think I need to say how beneficial this would be for us."
"It… it could save the rink?" Felice asks, with such pure delight it's like someone replaced her with happier, nicer Felice right under my nose.
Bellona's nose wrinkles. "I wouldn't count my chickens, Torres, but yes, it will certainly make things easier for us financially."
"What's a formal dinner?" Willow asks.
"Exactly that. CEO Prudence Dulcitti has invited us – all of us – to a formal dinner at her residence with the others of the managing board. We must make a good impression, and emphasis on formal, ladies. This isn't a house party."
She looks pointedly at everyone. Beverly coughs and looks down, and somehow I think Bellona must know about the madness that was our first team party.
"I understand if you all have obligations and can't attend, but I will need at least a decent number of you to go, for the sake of appearances. All travel and accommodation paid for kindly by All-Star Almonds. So, can I see a show of hands for interest?"
Everyone's hands shoot up. I raise mine too, though I don't know if I can even go to this thing, both because of my double life and because Bellona has technically banned me from participating in team events.
Bellona nods once. "Excellent. I'll email you all details tonight. I'll need quick responses with passport details and current medical records. Make sure to have your dresses and pantsuits ready."
As we're dismissed off the ice, Bellona motions for me to stay. My heart scrunches, but I do as I'm told. Since that last chat with her I've always felt a little less powerful under her strict gaze.
"You're invited as well, Vivas," she says, once it's just Bellona, Zelda and I. "You're not an active team member, but you will still appear at public functions to represent our entire team."
"Right, yes." I nod, though I don't really know how to feel about it. "Okay, ma'am."
"I'm not sure what's going on with you," she says, glancing between me and Zelda, like she has anything to do with my mood. "But whatever it is, you need to put it aside for now. Or talk to me. I don't want it to affect your play. All right?"
Talk to her? I almost want to laugh. Like I can just say, my brother, your king, can't have kids and it's horrible to see him in so much pain, advice Agony Aunt?
She stares at me for a good four seconds before nodding and dismissing us both.
"We're in the shit," Zelda says, when Bellona is out of earshot. "Guess where the mansion is?"
"Please say it's here."
"Las Vegas, actually."
"Las Vegas? That's—that's ages away." About five hours drive, and definitely a hotel overnight.
"They're flying us out, but time isn't the only problem now… it's the airport."
I wince. We still have Max's fake passports, but we've never used them at official ports. Are they even going to work? Will they fool Illéan security?
"I was thinking we say screw it." She holds my arm back before we get onto solid ground. "As long as the passports work, that is. We'll tell the palace we're going to Las Vegas for a day."
"You know they'd never let me go without guards."
"That's why we tell them after we're gone. Forgiveness and permission and all that jazz."
It's risky. Besides security issues, Roy will totally freak when he realises I've upped and left.
But I haven't seen him for days…
It would be better if I wasn't even there right now. He doesn't need me to comfort him. I'm just the reminder.
"Okay." I take a breath. "Okay, yeah. Let's do it."
"Wait, really?"
"You thought I'd say no?"
"Obviously. You always say no to spontaneity."
"But if you thought I'd say no, why did you ask?"
She shrugs. "Because then you can't complain that I'm not thinking of hair-brained schemes to get us out. Now to convince Aderyn."
Aderyn, however, is not so happy, when we tell her in hushed voices in the middle of the Glendale Ice Rink parking lot. She stops four paces from the car, wind cutting through her long, dark green jacket, and spins to face us.
"No, no, and absolutely no."
"Pleeeeease," I say, hands clasped together. "Please, it will be so good of us to go!"
"You know why we can't go," she says with a scowl. "It's too dangerous—"
Unfortunately for her, Rose appears behind us then.
"Hi! Oh, sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Addie." She raises her hands placatingly as Aderyn winces. "Just wanted to say I'm really excited about the Las Vegas trip tomorrow! You're all going, right?"
"We want to," Zelda says, glaring at Aderyn.
"I-It's just, Linkle is a minor, and there's no adult to accompany her personally."
"I'm an adult," I say, promptly ignored.
"Why don't you come along too, Addie?" Rose asks, head tilting to one side. "I'm sure Miss Strike wouldn't mind, since you're right, Linkle is still too young and will need an escort."
Aderyn blanches "That's not—"
"What a great idea! You can come too, Addie," Zelda adds quickly. "Not like our parents will mind, will they?"
"T-They'll mind!" she splutters, and we all know she's not talking about our shared fictitious mom and dad. "Las Vegas is so far away—"
"We'll be there and back in twenty-four hours," I say, to Aderyn's deeper scowl. "Hotel is covered, remember?"
Rose makes her eyes as large as saucers and clasps her hands together. "Please, Addie?"
"Yes, please, Addie?" Zelda asks, pouring a little teasing into her voice.
She glances at me – I give her a very princessy, do as I say look that crumbles the adamant expression on her face.
"You three are all troublemakers."
That's not a yes, but it's not a no, either. On the way home, Zelda, Aderyn and I discuss plans to faux-kidnap Aderyn along with our trip, making a threat of 'employment termination' should she refuse, and so our little plan to go to Las Vegas is hatched. Suddenly I'm really excited – I've been stuck in the palace really since San Francisco, and it'll be nice to leave and explore without the idea of the palace breathing down my neck.
At least, from up close they won't.
Back home, we climb through the tailor's workshop window and separate from there. I sneak into a side room to get changed from my sweatpants into a cute grey sweater and pink overalls, and plait my hair. The last thing I want to do is for anyone to see my sweaty and gross clothes, and I start to think it's all in vain until I turn the corner to my quarters and see a figure waits outside my door. White blonde hair, straight back – I don't need him to turn around to figure out it's Ansel.
"Hello!" I chirrup, startling him.
He spins. "Oh, Your Highness… I…" He adjusts his tie. "I was told by your guards you were having a dress made."
"That's right. It was a big, poofy pink dress. For the ball."
"I can tell. I've been waiting four hours."
"Oh, sorry. What can I help with?"
"I wondered…" He seems to get a mental grip on whatever haze is bothering him, and stares me directly in the eye. "I wondered if you would like to go on a date."
"Oh." It's the last thing I was expecting. From Ansel, of all people. He and Soren are similar in looks and mannerisms, but where Soren doesn't seem to care most of the time, Ansel seems to care a lot. He wouldn't ask me on a date lightly. "Sorry, that came out wrong. We can go on a date now, if you like?"
"Yes. That would be… good."
I loop my arm with his.
"So what did you have in mind?"
"Oh. Er…"
"Shall we go for a walk?" I suggest.
"It's dark."
"Yeah. It'll be spoooooky. And you can protect me if I get scared, okay?"
He grimaces but nods. "All right."
We have a passing servant fetch his coat as I grab mine (it's pink, obviously). Have to admit, Ansel in a pea coat is rather dapper. I dig a little deeper in my heart – hurting as it is right now, it won't stop thinking about hot boys. Though I wouldn't classify Ansel as hot. More… sharp. And I don't know if I find that attractive.
Then again, he's asked me on the date. Maybe the feelings go the other way?
Outside the cool air tackles my fleece leggings with a vengeance, but we walk, mostly in silence, along the paved path that cuts through the courtyard until we reach the fountain. Usually there are photographers catching every inch of action from the Selected boys, and me, but there's no one today. Just the contented quiet rustle of leaves.
I glance at Ansel's face. Guarded, as always. Vigilant, as alwayser. But this time, in the darkness, I can detect a hint of vulnerability in them. There's just something about the way his gaze lingers on the trees as they sway in the wind or the thick clouds that blot the night sky that makes me think his mind is occupied with thoughts. Worries, even.
"So what's up with you?"
He sheds that look immediately as he fixes his attention on me. "What do you mean?"
"You seem a little out of it tonight."
"I'm not."
And that's the end of the that, apparently.
But I won't let him escape so easily.
"You asked me on a date and you're not even trying to romance me, so something's clearly bothering you."
He rolls his lips. "I just think I haven't taken the opportunity to get to know you better."
"I mean, you're still not really taking that opportunity, are you?"
He stops. "Would you prefer we talk, then?"
"I'd prefer whatever you'd prefer."
He doesn't like that answer, judging by how his brows dip. I can't help but giggle.
"Ansel, stop being such a worrier." I slap his arm gently. "I'm not a science experiment. Just be yourself."
He goes to reply, but a loud laugh cuts him off. It's not close, more a short distance away, right in the centre of the maze. It sounds like… JJ?
"Is he lost?" I say, grabbing Ansel by the arm and dragging him towards the hedge maze.
But as I approach the exit I spot him not alone, but with Lilly. Lilly, who is not cheating with Roy. At least now the thought of her doesn't cause my blood to boil. Here she looms over JJ, arms crossed, expression smug, as his hands clutch his knees with loud panting breath. I shove Ansel inelegantly into a bush, me going next, so we can spy— er, happen to oversee the conversation unfold.
"You win," he signs, still laughing. "I thought I could have beaten you."
"I've been here so many times I could do that maze with my eyes closed, backwards," Lilly taunts playfully, "You have no hope beating me in a race."
She's fully clothed in formal wear – floral dress, heels, but the soles are speckled with dirt, and her skirt is tangled with leaves and even ripped in the small corners. JJ's suit is ruffled, his shirt untucked. The comparison between their signs is noticeable, with JJ being as new as he is, all his signs are slow but deliberate, compared to the fast, almost sloppy delivery of Lilly's signs.
"Why are we hiding?" Ansel whispers. "What are they saying?"
"They were racing through the maze," I supply.
"Okay. But why are we hiding?"
Honestly, I don't know. I'm just surprised to see both JJ and Lilly so… jovial. In the circumstances it almost seems wrong – Lilly may not know specifics but she knows that Roy's having a hard time – but it's nice to see they're enjoying the moment.
"Next time," JJ promises, wagging a finger at Lilly between signs. "Next time I will beat you."
"I'll hold you to that," Lilly teases.
"I must bring Easton here." He spells his son's name carefully. "We can learn the route together."
"You should. He'll love it. I can show him the route tomorrow, if you like?"
"He does love a good challenge." JJ stands, looks awkward. "Though maybe not tomorrow."
Lilly frowns. "Why not? The weather will be wonderful."
"It is…" He hesitates. "It is actually my wife's birthday tomorrow."
His wife? I think with alarm. Since when does he have a wife?
Lilly shakes her head and looks away, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry."
"No, you did not know." He waves away her concerns and runs a hand through his wild blond hair. "But I think I need to start teaching Easton the importance of respecting anniversaries for the deceased."
Oh.
"What? What is it?" Ansel asks.
I relay the information quietly to him. Ansel doesn't look like he knows what to do with the info but peers through the foliage.
"He doesn't wear a ring. He's never worn a ring."
JJ looks equally distressed, but for completely different reasons. I missed a few signs talking to Ansel, but as JJ signs, "I've taken tomorrow off work," I can assume Lilly asked something about our lesson tomorrow – which is thankfully no longer going through. "So I can visit her grave."
Lilly rubs her arms. Suddenly all animate conversation between the two has frozen stone-cold.
"I really am sorry," she signs, meek and close to her chest. "If I had any involvement with her passing…"
"You did not have any involvement." JJ clarifies, and I breathe a gentle sigh of relief. "Rebels do terrible things whether they were influenced by you or not. It is not your fault."
"Thank you, but it will always be my fault."
The conversation dries. Lilly shakes her head, and her blonde ringlets fly. She signs quickly, swiftly. "Anyway, this was fun. Thank you."
He goes to argue, verbally, but she's too fast and dashes off, leaving JJ alone. I can't read his face. It's hurt, but also it's in deep thought, almost as if he wonders whether Lilly was involved after all. I'm missing a piece of a puzzle here, but I can only guess that JJ's wife died because of rebels. And if it was recent, it's the rebels I know and hate. The Voice herself, maybe, had a hand in it.
I don't like to think about it.
As I quickly translate to Ansel, JJ sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and then says loudly, "You can come out from behind there now."
I cut off midsentence and both Ansel and I go ramrod straight. With a grimace, he stands and emerges from the bush, and I follow, head bowed.
"How did you know?" I ask.
JJ inspects us with a sharp but not disappointed gaze. "You're much louder than you think, especially when I'm having a conversation in silent sign language and you're trying to translate verbally."
"I-I apologise," Ansel croaks out. "We weren't… we weren't really trying to eavesdrop…"
"Hmm." JJ's minor amusement is giving me hope that he's not too angry. "No, it's all right. It's not unusual to be out on dates in the garden, and I'm not exactly trying to keep any secrets about my wife. I'm sure many people have made assumptions because I have Easton, anyway. But it's very impolite."
"I-I'm sorry, too," I squeak.
"Thank you." He clucks his tongue and swaggers off, but not before saying, "I'll accept your apologies in the form of another essay that I'll assign you both next class."
He goes before either of us can object. Guilt riddles Ansel's features.
"We shouldn't have watched in like that."
"No," I agree – I thought they were going to be pranking each other or making history memes.
"Let's forget it, then. It's none of our business." He offers his arm, which I take. "Shall we go back inside?"
"Okay. Want to watch something?"
He wrinkles his nose. "As long as it's not basketball. What did you have in mind?"
"I'm feeling To All the Boys I've Loved Before. The one with Noah Centineo."
"… Who?"
"You'll see."
Resolving to tuck the information of JJ and Lilly's conversation away, I pull Ansel back inside.
A/N: Hello everyone! This one was fun to write purely because it's got a bit of everything: royals discussing bloodlines, invites to a fancy dinner, hair-brained schemes for spontaneous trips to Las Vegas, eavesdropping...
The last scene with Gail and Ansel was partly inspired by Slytherwitch's mini Ansel drabble, so thank you, based slyther. You cool.
As always, I encourage you to leave a review, stay hydrated, and finish your homework (I got my eye on you, rysa and llama).
Thanks for reading!
~ GWA
NTT: "Now Sheng. I know most of you don't like guys but that man is hot."
