Fallout
In the previous chapter, Xander tried to talk his father into supporting him with international relationships. Although they made some progress, his ultimate goal—to get Adrian back into politics—did not happen.
Meanwhile, Ernest set up a meeting with him, Nereida and Victoria in the attempt of introducing Nereida to his family, but when they bring up the wrong topic and Victoria remembers things, Tori pushes them out. Ernest, wary of these intentions, is convinced by Nereida to first tackle their own problems.
Prompted by Irina's comments, Xander meets up with his friends, bringing Irina and Evan along. A friend, Oliver, opposes his decision to keep Kate in the Selection after she messed up the convention date. Irina, too, is unhappy with it, but as Evan deduces, that is jealousy. Despite the tensions on unspoken things between her and Xander, Irina finally admits that she likes him.
Chapter 34
»Procrastination was damning him«
Palace car park, Los Angeles, Angeles
Crown Prince Xander of Illéa
Irina hadn't come today, and if anything, that alone made Xander nervous.
Today's date was the road trip. Isla Woodley, Leda Conner, Minerva "Minnie" Whitefield and Anastasia Collins. Even though Xander had told himself that it'd be alright, now as they were going through the final inventory, nothing seemed fine.
At least Isla was pretty invested into things.
"I think we have all!" Isla declared.
Just as with the others, he had been concerned that they wouldn't take the idea well, but to his surprise, Isla had jumped right onto the idea. Anastasia was happy to come along too, quoting the scenery they'd see, and Minnie was happy to come along too. Leda, fortunately, remained professional.
"Great!" Minnie said.
This date was, going by the Royal Guard, the most difficult one to manage. Given the size of the mini van—not the typical limousine—they couldn't put a guard in it. That, he agreed, would be awkward as well, but the older car wasn't as save as the royal limousines and their bulletproof glass. They had decided to send on car ahead and one behind, on a previously agreed and scouted route.
"Are you sure you're happy to drive?" Xander, not the best driver, asked Isla.
She nodded. "Sure. I've got heaps of experience with it."
She had, just half an hour ago, said her goodbye to her niece, and while that had been a little bit tearful for Annie, Xander hoped it'd stop the Report team from using too much footage of inside the car.
For that, Ernest had suggested just placing a camera into the car, and they had gone ahead with that—much to Xander's dismay. But what was he going to do? Part of the Selection was the public aspect…
And they went ahead and sat into the car. They had enough stops planned to change seats—Xander chose the front first—and to be completely fair, this wasn't entirely a road trip. It was driving to a small house—once a safe house, although not the Safe House—owned by the Illéas, staying there for the night and leaving.
Some would inevitably going to claim that this group had more time with the prince, but that idea made Xander sigh. He had work he was going to need to do there. It was afternoon too. He was still playing with the idea of leaving around midnight…
"This isn't really a road trip by definition," Isla pointed out as she drove the car out of the carpark.
"It'll be fine," Anastasia hummed. "We could put on some music?"
"Sure," Xander agreed. Anything to keep him off thinking about Irina's lack of appearance. "Any suggestions?"
"What do you guys listen to?" Anastasia asked. He could hear her fiddle around with something; in the mirror, that turned out to be a handbag. "I'm really in the mood for something high energy."
"Classic rock?" Isla suggested, one hand on the steering wheel.
Leda frowned. "Not my taste," she replied. Leda leaned against the window in the back. "Do you have something with a strong instrumental? It's pretty interesting to pick that apart."
Isla cringed. "Did you pick up on Rowan's music lectures?"
"Music lectures?"
"The other day when I was with Annie, she was explaining some 'cadences' to her Annie and Owen. I've got no idea what that is but…" Isla frowned. "It's quite inadequate."
Leda leaned forward. "Excuse me? Inadequate? She's just fond of music theory. That's nothing bad."
"If you think so…" Isla looked aside. She shrugged.
Yikes. Xander cringed himself. Please, conversation, move on… He still needed to figure out what was going on with Irina—no need to argue about music.
"I'm with Anastasia. I like upbeat dance music," Minnie agreed. "What about you, Your Highness?"
So much about moving on. Xander did not listen to a lot of music; he found it distracting and he didn't have the time to listen to much more. If even, he had heaps of instrumental and orchestral music exposure, thanks to his grandmother, but nothing modern he could say… "I've only ever really listened to instrumental music as well. My grandmother's doing."
"Good to hear someone appreciating the fine arts," Leda smiled.
"That being said, I don't know enough 'high energy' or 'upbeat' music to judge. We could do both, maybe?"
Isla sighed. "Alright…"
"It isn't going to kill you, Woodley," Leda hissed.
"Oh, seriously?" Isla muttered between her teeth. "Whatever. Anastasia, put on some music."
Xander could hear Anastasia sigh disappointed, but nod. "Give me a moment. We could also play car bingo? Do you all know how that works?"
"Yes," Isla said.
"No," Minnie and Leda replied.
"Have you never ever been on the road?" Isla muttered.
"I do tend to read. Inform myself and improve. I don't have time for childish plays," Leda shot back.
Xander frowned. While he didn't appreciate Isla's behaviour, he had a higher opinion on Leda. She had been such a professional—where came that salty behaviour from. He wasn't going to say anything—please, no drama—but it was most certainly noteworthy. "I've played it a few times, but if we go through the rules again, we can make sure everyone is on the same page."
"Where have you played that?" Minnie asked. "I wouldn't expect the royal private jet to be on the highway."
"Military," Xander replied. "A better way of phrasing would be a few rounds during one trip, but I understand the principle."
"I see." Minnie nodded. Right. She had been a soldier too. It was so clear with Rie, and he had spoken about it with Irina once; he had forgotten Minnie.
"It's easy. You write down a randomised number place. If you see a car that has the same letter or number in the same position, you cross it out. If you cross out your whole number plate, you win. We all have windows, so it should be fine?"
"I'm not going to play," Isla stated.
"Is it too childish for you?" Leda mocked.
"No, I need to focus on the traffic."
Leda frowned, and crossed her arms, insulted. Her smile was tight, her breath sharp. "Of course," she pressed out. Her head hit the window.
"That's a fair point," Minnie agreed. "Do you have something to write on, Anastasia?"
While Anastasia handed out a piece of paper, Xander started thinking. He couldn't pinpoint a reason for that sudden tension—he was so glad Minnie and Anastasia overlooked it—but mere differences in priorities. Isla, given her background as mechanic, was probably a much more practical person. She was a Seven, too, while Leda was a Four...
The differences in castes, huh?
He'd need to check on both. If either had a problem with another, that would prove to be a problem. A good Queen could look beyond that. He sighed. One will be your wife… He needed to consider carefully. Even if Leda made him more comfortable with her professional style… That wasn't worth it, he told himself.
Anastasia handed him a paper, and he scribbled down a licence plate—none of particular meaning, he told himself. He actively forgot that it was Tori's. The only car outside military and royal cars he ever had been in his life.
"What does everyone have?" Anastasia asked. "I have 4HRN921."
"2CON369," Leda replied curtly.
"9MJS821," Minnie explained.
"6TRJ244," Xander finished.
"Lovely," Anastasia finished. "Shall we get started?" She looked, sitting on the left, out of the window. "Oh, I already have one. For the one in the last!"
"Me too!" Minnie called out. "There's a two in the second-to-last spot for me too!"
"I've got that too!" Anastasia laughed.
Leda frowned. She didn't seem to look very fond of the idea of losing. Xander chuckled amused. A car passed by, and he announced to strike off his T. Leda followed with her three and six. Another one—now with a nine in the front, meant Minnie was leading, but then Leda found a two in the front and a nine in the end.
"Ooh, H, R and N! I'm almost there! Two to go!" Anastasia announced after a truck passed them. Next to Xander, Isla chuckled. Leda followed the notion with her N. He himself crossed out his two in third-to-last position and his J. Minnie followed soon.
"Oh, lovely, a C," Leda remarked and made another cross. "That means I'm only missing my O."
"Ah, no you're not! I win this round! I got my four and my nine!" Anastasia smiled radiant. "One point for me. Do we want to do another round?"
"Maybe something that Lady Isla can do too?" Xander suggested. "Although, I must admit, I don't know what."
"We could play Scattergories?" Leda suggested. "Although, maybe that's not her taste."
"Nah, it's fine by me. I can't write the categories down, though."
"We could do teams?" Minnie suggested.
"That'd be only two teams, though." Anastasia frowned. "Although, I'm happy to play alone. We need to make sure nobody listens in to the others."
"Listening in Scattergories doesn't give you an advantage," Leda spoke. "If you listen in, you will just know about one word you won't say. Who is listened on gains the same advantage—but you get distracted and they essentially get a save on their word. It doesn't matter."
"True," Minnie nodded. "Just to check—do you guys play with alliteration rules?"
"What do you mean?" Isla asked. "Alliteration as in, Cilla Chamberlain? Both starting with the same letter?"
"Yes. The way I know it, it means double points."
"Ah, I see," Isla nodded. "Sure, why not." She grinned—at Leda. "Do we do two points if you're the only one with the word, one point if someone else has the word and none if everyone has it?"
"Why not one if everyone else has it?" Xander asked.
"It wouldn't matter; everyone stays at the same number either way," Leda replied.
"Oh, yes." Xander nodded. "Then sure. What categories?"
"We are five people. Everyone could do one?" Anastasia suggested. "If so—I'll suggest flowers and plants."
"Historical figures," Xander added on.
"Cities in the world," Leda suggested.
"School supplies," Isla added on.
Minnie finished the list. "And hobbies, maybe?"
Xander noted them down as they were named. "How do we determine the letter?"
"I'll think through the alphabet, and someone stops me," Anastasia replied. "I'll start."
It didn't stop Minnie long to call out "Stop!"
"Ready? It's K!"
Xander nodded. While Leda and Minnie in the back began whispering and Anastasia began scribbling too, he skimmed through the categories. Neither for cities, plants and flowers, historical figure, school supplies or hobbies, he could come up with an immediate answer.
"JFK for the second," Isla whispered.
"Where do you know him from?" Xander asked, surprised. Even though the Cold War was, in his important, a noticeable period in time—fitting all too well to current politics—it wasn't taught as frequent; it wasn't an important part in Illéan history. It was merely mentioned, explaining previous Russian-American tensions.
"I like documentaries," Isla replied. "There are lots on the conspiracies surrounding his death."
"I see." He smiled. Good to know that they shared that interest.
"For the city, maybe Kansas City? It's in Midston—none of them are from there."
"Have you been there?"
"Once or twice," Isla replied, absentminded. "For fruit—kiwi fruit?"
Xander nodded. "Got it. Then, hobbies and school supplies."
"Karting? Like, go-karting?" Isla suggested, still quiet. Better safe than sorry, Xander guessed.
"That would probably be a G," Xander replied. "For school supply, Kreide?"
"What?" Isla asked, confused. "What's that?"
"The German word for chalk. Nobody said things have to be English," Xander whispered back.
"I… doubt they'll let that one slide."
"Do you have a better suggestion?"
Isla paused. "No. Karate for hobbies though. We need something better for school supplies. What about—"
"Done!" Minnie announced. "Pens down; we got them all."
Isla sighed frustrated. "We'll go with Kreide, then," she muttered. "What do you guys have for City?"
"Kyouto, in New Asia," Leda begun.
"Knoxville," Anastasia smiled.
"We have Kansas City. That means two points for everyone, right?" Xander finished.
Minnie nodded. "For plants, we have kiwi fruit."
Anastasia sighed. "Same."
"We also have that."
"To be fair, is there much else?"
"… Kale, maybe? Oh, damn it! We should have gone for that!" Minnie cursed. "Who do you have for Historical Figure? We have John Keynes."
"Who's that?" Isla frowned.
"Economist from the twentieth century. He wrote a thesis on unemployment," Leda replied. "Don't worry, you don't need to know him."
"Kennedy here," Xander replied. "Lady Anastasia?"
"Lord Kelvin? The one that the physical unit is named after?"
"Looks like everyone is getting a point again!" Minnie announced enthusiastic. "We have a Kindle for school supply. A bit far-fetched, but we used eReaders."
"I don't have anything," Anastasia admitted.
Xander tilted his head. "We have the German word for chalk. It starts with K."
"That's not fair!" Minnie called out. "Nobody here speaks German!"
"We never explicitly stated it, though," Leda admitted. "I say he gets the points."
Isla rolled her eyes, but remained silent on the matter. "And we have karate for the hobby."
"Kayaking," Anastasia announced.
"And we have kickboxing. This round was surprisingly easy. We should go for something difficult. Something like W, or so," Minnie suggested.
"And more difficult categories," Leda added on.
They do, and it continues to help. The categories start to range—from sportsmen to Abby Moon songs, from Shakespeare quotes to lakes in Illéa, they cover it all. It's good to distract Xander, but it becomes clear to him, Leda and Isla do not like another.
Where did that come from?
Because from time to time, Isla needs the GPS to make sure they're on the right track, Xander can see that the short stop they planned at a highway rest place. There, he'll need to check up on them, maybe Leda first.
By the time they reach it, Anastasia is leading in the point system, followed closely by Leda and Minnie. Isla again and again dips out, and thus is last. There's definitely a competition, but unlike with League of Legends, Xander isn't invested in not-losing. It feels much more 'low stakes'—maybe because less people are watching. There are also no ten-year olds screaming around.
"How long are we stopping for?" Isla asks.
"Ten minutes?" the prince suggests.
They leave the car, one by one, and thankfully, Isla and Minnie immediately head to the bathrooms. Another car pulls in—the second one of the royal guards, in which the only present camera team is too. Xander gives them a nod to talk to Anastasia first.
"Lady Leda?" he asks, once all is set and they are alone.
"Of course, Your Royal Highness? How may I be of service?" Leda asks, in good, old polite court speech that Xander can deal with. Professional, just like his favourite advisors.
"Did something occur between you and Lady Isla? It was hard not to miss the tensions between you two."
Leda hesitates; she thinks for a moment. "Apologies if such was the case. Isla hit a wrong nerve, you could say, and she stereotypes the lower castes a lot."
"Would you mind elaborating, on how she stereotypes the lower castes?"
Leda nodded—another time buffer, Xander realised. "She has good intentions and ideas, but she lacks the abilities to execute them. It shows in her refusal to be interested in the fine arts, for example. She doesn't understand that they are used to convey political ideas, and you could say I'm a little frustrated by it."
How much did happen behind closed doors that he missed?
"I must, however, acknowledge that if it was that obvious, then my behaviour was inappropriate and I will apologise to Lady Isla upon her return."
Xander nodded. "A difference in opinion, I see."
Were the girls not as harmonic as his past dates had seemed to be?
"I suppose, my friendship with Rowan did influence my opinions too. I felt like she was insulting Rowan with that remark on music with strong instrumentals, and I suppose I had to defend my friend."
"Lady Rowan is interested in music?" Xander asked, surprised. From what he had seen, which was little, though, she always seemed to be focused on her siblings. Occasionally horse-riding, going by what Irina had noted, but that, he had assumed, would have come from his work.
Irina… What had happened between them? What wrong words had he said?
Leda smiled—a rare, definitely genuine smile. "She doesn't like people to know, but Annie told me."
"She is very close to her siblings, I noted."
"It's her strength. She's very caring towards them."
"What about you?" Xander wondered. "Do you have siblings?"
Again, Leda hesitated. Xander knew that hesitation all too well. Advisors waiting to think about their sentences twice, journalists formulating questions perfect to the point—Leda was calculating. She wasn't entirely genuine—not like Irina had come to speak to him.
"I do have a brother, but unfortunately, we do not have as much contact as I would like."
"Why is that?" Xander asked. He remembered a brother in her file, but no details. Given Leda's age, it was likely that he had been conscripted—so many relatives of the girls had been—but without Irina present, he hadn't come to properly prepare. Procrastination was damning him.
"He is rather unwell, as of now, and I feel like my presence wouldn't support him."
"Unwell?" Xander asked. "Has he been to the Unrest?"
Leda nodded, glancing aside to the empty Angeles lands beyond the rest stop. She thought, Xander presumed, but given the nostalgy in her face, this time, it was genuine. He could only presume, though, and by all means, it frustrated him. Who knew how good a liar Leda was…
As much as he liked the professional attitude, Irina's genuine bluntness was much more helpful. At least he knew she was speaking the truth—she wasn't playing a game like his sister was.
"Yes, and I'm afraid, he hasn't returned as the same person."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Xander had made enough speeches, mourning the damages of the war, to know these lines. Enough speeches that they almost didn't feel them anymore. Once, he had been angry at the rebels for doing these things. Now, the numbers had come so distant… "I know that feeling," he added, though.
"Princess Victoria?" Leda concluded.
Xander nodded. "I do miss my little sister as she was before."
"Is she improving?" Leda wondered. "We tried to find a therapist to help my brother, but everyone is already so busy, and even we, and I like to think that we are well off, cannot afford those who still have space."
Government aide only does so much, Xander added.
Xander hid a frown. "We try all we can," he chose to say. Unlike with Leda, there was no such delay. Preparing his words was easy, and even if Leda was a Selected right now, and he expected that to change, he couldn't risk her, once eliminating, talking about Victoria's condition. Xander didn't like being that careful. "She has picked up the habit of joining me in meetings, so yes, she is indeed improving," he added on. Leda could still, as professional as she was, be eliminated any day. She wasn't guranteered to win.
Not when Irina competing.
"That is good to hear," Leda replied. Maybe this one was genuine. "I must admit, I was positively surprised when the news leaked that you had decided to join the military."
"Thank you," Xander said. "I didn't want to stay back and do nothing. I saw all the carnage, but if you only sit in an office and make orders, it doesn't always feel like you are doing something." Again, he was being genuine. Maybe that'd help.
What an irony. First, he had wanted the professionalism, tailored and perfected answers and a mere act for the Selection, but now? After having seen Irina demand more than it, and almost going with it?
"I see where that comes from," Leda nodded. "I work in an office, but after having met Rowan and hearing about her life as a Seven… I want to make more of an impact."
"You two are quite close."
"I didn't expect to make a friend like her, but I enjoy every minute of her company," Leda replied—genuine, again. Leda really had to like Rowan a lot, if she was being so genuine about her, but not about anything else… Maybe she just didn't see a reason to hide the friendship? That would make sense too…
Just as Xander was about to comment on that, a dark frown appeared on Leda's face. Xander followed her glance and recognised Isla, Minnie and Anastasia heading towards them. They were finished with their stop here, Xander concluded.
"Lady Isla?" Leda, pressing out the words, called.
Isla's happy face—she must have enjoyed the conversation, Xander concluded, darkened. "Yes, Lady Leda? How may I be of help? Would you like to drive?"
"No, thank you very much. I'm quite confident that you are the better driver," Leda shot back.
Girls, Xander told himself. He had seen these petty fights often enough between Sophia and her friends. That was all.
"What is it then?"
"I would like to apologise," Leda replied, taking moral high ground, "in case my behaviour offended you. It is clear that we do not agree on certain things, but I believe we can find—" she hesitated. "—some form of common ground."
Isla deadpanned. "Of course."
Anastasia glanced to Minnie, who returned the look. Nobody said a word; Leda, with the posture of a CEO in front of a small employee, and Isla, with her crossed arms, glared at another. Xander looked to the girls, and the camera crew that fortunately knew better than to film this all.
Isla was the first to say a word. Perhaps, it was Leda's experience is business or the things she had learned elsewhere that made her understand that she needed to wait. "I'm sorry too, if I made you uncomfortable."
With that, they declared the matter to be over and the drive to go on. They had another one and a half hour, and Xander grew more and more grateful for Anastasia and Minnie's ability to just look past the tensions.
/ / /
It was, in the end, Minnie who scored most points over the various games they played. When they stopped in front of the smaller holiday house, hidden away behind trees and driveways, the sun had already set and thankfully, staff had prepared dinner by the time they reached the house.
Xander was glad to know that it had the space of all five of them to sleep alone. He needed a break. But being the good prince that he had to be, he joined them for dinner and told them the tales he knew about the house—nothing about himself, merely words regarding the time their mother tried (and failed) to organise a 'no work' weekend. Adrian had been called back to Los Angeles in a matter of hours. Sophia had been unhappy to be cut away from her family, and Vicky had been bullying Ernest for insisting that a particular play was good.
He was careful not to disclose anything important.
When they all chose to sleep for the night, tired of the drive and, at least for Xander, of interacting with people, he hoped to just take one quick breath of cold air outside. He had no means to leave the girls in the early morning or late night now—not when they had gone to bed and that was improper, so he told himself to better take the chance and catch some air.
"You're out late, Your Highness," Anastasia said, when she came out of the door behind him.
Xander, to some degree, wanted to leave her here, but he couldn't do that without implying anything. Until now, he had only spoken to Leda alone, and if he wanted to follow his tradition of taking a moment with each of the twenty-five girls, then he needed to make time for them all.
"I quite enjoy the cold air."
"It's beautiful," Anastasia agreed and stepped besides him. "I wonder if there are any hiking tracks around."
"Do you like to do that?" Xander wondered. How unfortunate that he hadn't planned her into the designated hiking date.
"I do," Anastasia nodded. "There are lovely tracks where I live. It's always good to take time to go for a walk and blow off steam."
"I can understand that," Xander agreed. "It helps to cool down from heavy workloads."
"And it clears thoughts, too!" she chuckled. "Do you like hiking?"
"I wish I had more time for it," he admitted. "Unfortunately, I don't have much time. My work does take most of day."
Anastasia nodded. "It is noticeable."
"Is it, huh…?" Xander frowned. "That's not my intention."
She smiled. "That's quite alright. You are leading our country, after all. It's not your fault. I'm sure you are trying your best, given the situation."
Xander smiled too. "Thank you. I'm glad to hear that, for once."
"Huh?" Anastasia asked, confused. "Why is that?"
"A lot of people aren't quite fond of my workload and insist that my father should return to his work, but…" Now, he hesitated. After all, the Crown Prince couldn't just speak out against his King. "He is exhausted. The Unrest, Victoria and my mother's passing have taken a huge toll on him."
"That is unfortunate, I agree." Anastasia nodded. She glanced to the quiet wildlife in front of them, and the highway in the distance. "I suppose taking a break is the best thing to do."
"That's what I believe too," Xander added. He didn't believe it, but details. "I do see where everyone is coming from, of course. Especially with the comparison to Victoria now coming to meetings but father rarely leaving his room…"
"I think you should be proud of Her Royal Highness. She's making great progress, isn't she?"
"I'm also concerned, though. What if something in the meetings pushes her over the edge, or hurts her?"
Anastasia hesitated. "That is true… Have you considered EMDR? I'm no professional in that subject but it appears to have proven to be quite useful."
"What is that?" Xander asked.
"Eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing. It's a form of therapy used on trauma. It takes time, but among other things, it's used on veterans. Maybe it could prove to be helpful?"
Except that they already tried to get Victoria to speak to a therapist. Multiple ones, at that. None of them had worked, and all of them had ended in the decision that 'maybe the therapist and Vicky just aren't the right match, and that is fine'.
"Your Highness…?"
Xander looked up. "Right. True. I'll see how it goes. She wasn't very lucky until now, but… there's no reason to stop, right?" His pathetic attempt to appear hopeful didn't fool anyone.
She knew better than to react outrightly, though. "There is always hope, even if it appears unlikely. There's always another chance."
Was there a point why they shouldn't continue on? There were, he presumed, enough professionals to try and help his sister in some form or way. Of course, the process of vetting them and organising an appointment, getting Victoria herself and Tori to agree was problematic enough… Xander sighed.
"Have you taken a day off recently?" Anastasia wondered. "A day where you don't think about your sister, your country or anything else that may stress you?"
He shook his head. "I haven't; I just cannot find the time."
"Perhaps after the Italians visit?" Anastasia suggested. She sat down on the cold stone stairs leading up the house. She was still wearing the brown summer dress that now had to be terribly cold, but her hair had been styled up in a messy ponytail. Probably her own work, not a maid—Xander wasn't even sure if they had a maid here. "At least an evening, just for your own wellbeing?"
"That sounds like a lovely idea." Something he did not have time for.
"Maybe some music, too? Meditation is a fascinating thing to do. It helps me a lot, when I need time to calm down."
"I have never tried. Isn't it very difficult? Something about stopping to think and all…"
Anastasia chuckled. "It's only as difficult as you make it for yourself. Try it, now!"
Xander shook his head. "I'm not even sure how." Plus, it would just give him the space to start worrying about all kinds of things he hadn't even started on.
"Close your eyes, stop talking, and just listen to your breath. Breath in, breath out." She pointed to the space next to her on the stairs, gesturing him to sit. Although hesitant, Xander took a seat. "Now just listen to me." He closed his eyes. "Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in…"
He doubted it'd help anyhow. He doubted that he could focus on a lot more—not when he was thinking about what Anastasia was thinking of him right now, and if the camera crews were filming this, and if the other girls noticed this and—but Xander did one thing. He followed Anastasia's rhythm.
He breathed in, and out. In and out.
Before he knew it, his thoughts stopped circling. Before he knew it, he was sitting there and quietly breathing. The wind was soughing the leaves, caressed his cheeks and the cold night air only now seemed to truly settle down. The stone beneath them was cold—sunset was too long ago—but that was fine.
"See?" Anastasia eventually spoke up. "It does help to wind down."
Xander nodded. "It did. I didn't expect that. Thank you."
She smiled, and rose. Xander followed the suit. "I was planning to do it either way, so I merely had the pleasure of your company. It's quite late though, and given our early start, you may want to go and sleep now."
He nodded, and headed towards the door. "Oh, and, Lady Anastasia?" he added on. "Thank you for your time. You are a good listener."
Anastasia smiled. "I'm always glad to help." Xander just didn't have an idea as for how glad she was.
/ / /
In the middle of the night, a scream woke Xander up. Habits came before thoughts, and Xander found himself up awake before he even realised what had happened. The door opened, a guard looked into the room, checking whenever there may was an intruder with the prince, before moving on to the next room, to confirm if the girls were safe.
He followed, although slower, into the corridor of the upper floor of the building. Leda and Isla were coming out too, and Xander expected Anastasia to come any moment.
"Where's Minerva?" Isla immediately asked.
A guard had just entered her room, and they could hear a vague "Lady Minerva?" from the inside, followed by a louder "All clear". The guards moved on to downstairs, leaving only the one in Minnie's room and one other with the five.
"I—" Minnie spoke, and in one word, Xander understood what was going on.
He turned to the girls. "Go and sleep. It's an early morning and there's no one here."
"Are you sure?" Anastasia asked, concerned. He nodded. Even though all girls glanced at another, none questioned his words and that at least was good. Very good, actually—because Xander knew that the less people were around, the better it was.
He had seen nightmares with Victoria all too often.
He stepped into Minnie's room, where the guard wasn't being helpful. He gave him a sign to leave, and thankfully, the guard didn't question his order. Minnie was trembling, and Xander, careful not to move too quickly, sat down at the other side of her bed.
"Lady Minerva?"
"I'm—I'm sorry," she stuttered.
"It's alright," he replied calmly. Her PTSD, he assumed. He had heard enough about it. "Do you know where you are?"
"Somewhere in Angeles… Outside Los Angeles… I didn't pay attention where we drove," she slowly replied. "I—I just had a—"
"It's fine. I understand," he replied, trying to talk as quiet as he could.
"We are in some form of holiday house…" she remembered. "You talked about having spent time with your siblings here."
He nodded, again. "What can you hear?"
"You talking… there's wind outside… people walking and talking downstairs—who is—?"
"The royal guard," Xander replied calmly. "They are here to protect you."
"And… there's some rumpling downstairs too... Are they searching around?"
Xander nodded. "They are searching the perimeter, as the protocol says. Did you have a bad dream?"
Minnie hesitated—probably not to make up a good answer but out of embarrassment. "I get them a lot when I'm in new places."
"I'm sorry to hear that. If I had known, I wouldn't have taken you along."
"It's…" Minnie took a deep breath. "It's alright. I should have told someone. Now everyone's awake. Great."
"They are used it to it."
"Are they?"
Xander nodded. "The protocol they follow states for them to go out and search the perimeter in every situation that indicates a form of danger. Any form of danger."
"Including waking up screaming," Minnie finished bitter.
"Victoria does it a lot too," Xander admitted. So much about not revealing too much about his sister, but Xander had never been good at keeping to his word that well. Especially not at three o'clock.
"Ah, I see," Minnie nodded, glancing aside. She sighed, and stood up. "I think I'll go and eat something..."
Xander frowned. "It's three o'clock…?"
Minnie shrugged. "I think there are enough people in the world that do that."
And while Xander let her take the night robe and leave the room, that didn't stop him from making conclusions. That didn't stop him from following her downstairs—just to check if she's alright, he told himself—and watch her drown the only alcohol around. Watching that, he chose to remain quiet and return to his—now uninterrupted—sleep.
A few hours later, Xander woke up again, but through the sounds of birds and not anyone screaming. He had slept well—not that he had any issues, but today's sleep was extraordinarily good—despite the interruption. He made a mental note to do meditation again.
To his, though positive surprise, he found Minnie awake upstairs already. Given the time—earlier than any logical 'let's wake up' time—he assumed the others weren't awake just yet. After dressing himself, he hesitated.
"Did you sleep better?" he asked, politely. Given how much Minnie had drunken, he expected her to be hungover.
"Yes," Minnie replied. She didn't look that well though. The make-up hid a lot, but Xander caught the fatigue in her eyes. She slouched—quite unlike her common posture. Of course, all he had heard had told him that Minnie was a much more casual version of Leda, the business woman, but did that imply this?
Besides, was it the lack of sleep or the hangover?
Xander had seen both in his family, and he didn't like either. "Is there any way I can help you?" he asked, quite lost. What else was he meant to say? With Vicky, he had Tori to help him, and Evan was always around. They could take over when immediate problems were over, help and let Xander return to his work…
"Nah, I'm fine. Really, just a bad dream. It's fine, don't worry."
"Are you sure?" Xander frowned. "I've seen these nightmares with enough of my friends, Lady Minerva. I know they're terrible."
"Again," Minnie repeated, "I'm fine."
"Then, I suppose," Xander hesitated, "that's good to hear. Have you ever spoken to a doctor about your nightmares?"
Minnie hesitated, and Xander wanted to sigh. All of these girls, sans Anastasia, were far too good at the court game. Far too good at lying. If Xander hadn't grown up at court, he wouldn't have seen one of them. "Yes, I have. I know my ways."
"If you need help, we can help you," he chose to say instead.
"I really don't."
"That's good to hear, then," Xander replied. "If you excuse me…"
Xander headed downstairs. He found Isla already awake, in front of the kitchen isle with milk and a bowl of cereal. She looked up when Xander came down the stairs. "Good morning," she said, although not as enthusiastic as she could have been.
"Good morning," the prince replied. "You are awake early."
"I tend to. Annie is always awake early. Children's sleep circle."
Xander nodded. Not that he had any idea of young children—he may was years older than Victoria, but when she had been a young child of Annie's age, he hadn't been very involved into her actual upbringing. They had, just like the rest of the royal children, played with another—but who knew when she woke up?
He didn't even know when she woke up nowadays.
"Do you miss her?" Xander guessed, correctly.
Isla nodded and turned to a saucepan. She was making pancakes, Xander deduced. "I taught her the alphabet and numbers with car bingo. I've been thinking about what she's been up to ever since."
"I'm sure she'll be alright without you."
"She will be, but me?" Isla huffed. "I miss my little girl. Even if she wants a pink car."
"A pink car?" Xander repeated. Right. One of the two Annies—he had no idea which; how high was the chance that two Selected would bring girls of similar age with the same nickname—had spoken to him about princes and crowns. Typical girlish toys, he assumed.
"We…" Isla hesitated. Great. Another one to make perfected statements. "We once saw a pink car at home, and she's been obsessed with having it ever since."
"Back at home? In Sumner?"
Isla nodded. "It looked like it was straight from a Barbie movie. Not my taste, but Annie is young. It's understandable, I suppose."
"I am honestly surprised that there are pink cars still there." Given the mass escapes from Sumner by the upper class and the fact that he couldn't see someone of lower income spend their money on a pink car, he didn't expect that.
"I assume a family living there intended to come back home, but ended up staying somewhere else. Given the crime rates in Sumner's cities, it's understandable that they didn't want to come back."
"I see." Xander nodded. He took a bowl, the milk and cornflakes himself and sat down. It wasn't his preferred type of meal, but it would do, and given Isla's background, he didn't plan to complain. "Lady Isla, if you don't mind me asking—what is your side on the tensions between you and Lady Leda?"
"Her 'fine arts' are—I apologise—the embodiment of having money left over to waste. I don't like to think about the fact that there are people who pay thousands of dollars of a painting when someone is in need of food. Leda is a Four—you'd expect her to know a bit of what is going on among the lower castes—but unfortunately, she does not. I don't like ignorant people. That's it."
He nodded, again. There wasn't much else he could say; both had a somewhat reasonable argument, he supposed. Given Isla's attitude on Sumner—was she angry at him for choosing to build new cities?—he didn't particularly want to continue much more on that topic either.
Xander hesitated. Isla was far more difficult to deal with than Anastasia—that much was sure.
"How… are you faring, in the Selection?" he asked, hoping to strike up a casual conversation.
"Good," Isla replied. "I used to go to a good school on a scholarship. The students were terrible, but it was good education. I'm keeping up well."
"That's nice," Xander replied.
"Yeah," Isla replied. Silence fell. She took the pancake batter and began with making the first ones in the saucepan. "Want some?" she eventually asked.
"Sure," Xander replied, forcing a smile.
And the silence fell again. For a member of the Selected, Isla wasn't the best at striking a conversation. If the whole Selection centred around trying to win his favour, then she wasn't doing all too well, but maybe that was the worry about her sister, or Sumner.
In fact, it probably was the reconstruction work there, he presumed. He could bring it up, explain why and hope to reach her, but from what he had seen of Isla—he doubted that. He was too tired for any form of drama—for now. Not when he had a meeting with the Minister of Education later on.
"Why did you decide to go ahead with the construction of new cities?" Isla, eventually inquired.
"The benefits outweigh the downsides. Your point—with people having emotional connections to the maintaining cities—is very much valid, but there are benefits to leaving the cities untouched too. Scientific research about the change in environment, for example."
"You can't study the environment when they are filled with criminals. The Great Unrest gave rise to so much crime, and Sumner is a centre to that!"
"Unfortunately, we do not have the forces to deal with that crime as of now."
"March in with the military. You did that in Fennley!"
"That in Fennley was the Unrest's—"
Isla slammed her hands on the table. "Seriously? Are you going to say that Fennley and the rebels are different than Sumner and criminals? I thought the rebels are criminals?"
"They were but…"
"But?"
He wanted her to be genuine, and he got it. Except that genuine seemed to equal with people being angry. She had all reasons to, Xander reminded himself. Good reasons, too. It was her home.
"I don't want to push soldiers into yet another war. As well, there are people peacefully living in these cities, and they'd be influence by raiding them and—"
"I know. I was one of them." Isla hissed. "Get them out, raid them and go on."
"It's not that easy."
"Life is never easy!"
"I'm very well aware of that, Lady Isla," Xander sighed. "Unfortunately, the matter isn't that easy." Maybe, he could delegate her to the governor of Sumner. That would solve the issue for him. Xander rose. "I'm sure that the Governor of Sumner would be interested in hearing your feedback. I'll have him contact you."
He rose—totally not because he didn't want to discuss the matter further—and turned away. "I'll see to how the others are faring."
At least the car ride back was filled with senseless, distracting games.
/ / /
Author's Note
Full disclaimer, I have no idea about alcohol and bullshitted that scene together. Tried googling, talked through bit more. Dunno if it worked. I hope it did. A bunch of writer friends tried to help. Also, I did not beta.
Also happy Valentine's Day this chapter 10/10 is totally specifically updated for this. It's very Valentine's Day, isn't it?
Let me know what you think of this round. I totally remember this chapter that I wrote three to four months ago. Let me know what you think will happen next, because I don't know.
