The countdown had started. Only three months before my eighteenth birthday… only three months before the coronation.
'I'm going for a run!' I announced, abruptly standing up from behind da- my desk. Janson didn't say anything, but I could see the exasperation in his eyes.
I strode to my bedroom and changed into my sports outfit.
It had been two weeks since the funeral. Two weeks since I had crawled back to the surface and found T'Challa waiting in the cathedral. Two weeks since he had guided me to a private chamber before hugging me, and letting me cry and ruin his clothes.
It had been four days since T'Challa had left reluctantly, ensuring me I could call any moment of the day. Four days since I had watched his plane disappear into the clouded sky.
'Don't judge me,' I grumbled, when I left my room, ready to go for a run. That had been T'Challa's idea; to find something that could get my mind off the stress. For now I had chosen running, though I wasn't sure if I could keep it up once I had even more responsibilities. Apparently being queen is a full-time job.
'I don't, highness.'
A bit surprised I looked at Barnes; this was probably the first time I had heard him speak since the car ride. A silent, watchful guardian he had been. Demanding no attention whatsoever.
'Yeah, officially I'm the highest judge in this country,' I smirked, knowing full well my father hadn't used that power. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought his usually stoic expressing loosened just a bit.
Why I had been upset enough to walk out on Janson? Well, we had been going through some of the details of the coronation – I know, three months in advance… that's a bit early – to make a planning for the next twelve weeks. Among other things because I had to know exactly what to do and say on that infamous day, while in the meantime, Janson (and some ministers, I believed) would intensify my education. It would be quite the understatement if I said I was a little stressed.
At first I jogged to my regular spot (a grand pond with lilies, and grass filled with the most beautiful flowers) where I started to run in circles. Usually the wind was able to blow away my worries long enough for me to relax a bit. Not today. Not this moment. Because today, all the letters I had been reading earlier resurfaced, and formed a whirlpool inside my thoughts. Sentences swirled around, losing sense and meaning, screaming out their own sounds.
In an attempt to avoid the chaos, I started running quicker and quicker. Immediately my body protested; my sides ached and my lungs burned - I kept running. Nausea rose from the pit of my stomach - I kept running. A forceful volcano of bitter taste and a burning sensation - I ran towards a bush - fighting the urge to heave - my hand pressed firmly against my lips. Behind the bush's protection I fell to my knees and emptied my stomach.
'Highness, are you sick?'
'No,' I huffed, averting my eyes so I wouldn't repeat my action. There was no need to see my breakfast half-digested between the blades of grass. Croissant, toast and strawberries tend to look best before they are eaten.
A gently touch startled me, reminding me Barnes had asked me something; that he was there; that I wasn't supposed to sit with my knees in the mud.
'No, no, I'm not sick. Breakfast just didn't sit well in my stomach, I guess. Really, I'm fine.' Nevertheless, I didn't look at him. T'Challa always told me my eyes were very telling. He, however, knew me very well. Of course he knew when I was lying.
With his hand wrapped carefully around my upper arm, Barnes helped me up.
'Let me get you a nurse, highness.'
'Wait what?' Dumbstruck I looked at him. A nurse? A prickling sensation in my knee made me look down and realise I had injured my leg. 'Oh. Please, no, no!' panicking I looked back up. 'Please, please, don't do that! If you call someone, Janson will know…' shame already rose to my cheeks; embarrassment was something I didn't handle well.
'It needs to be taken care of, highness.' He was all professionally concerned, while I was being an anxious child who'd done something incredibly stupid. However, if I forbade him, he would never do it.
'I'll do it myself.' Even I could hear the doubt in my own voice. Beaten I looked down at my hands. Did every stupid little thing I did have to be noticed by everyone?
'If you don't mind, highness, I could help you.'
'You could?' then I blushed again at my own exclamation. I sighed. 'Of course you could. I believe I'm the only one not capable of anything. I'm quite useless actually. Like, all the effort you people put in me, it's all wasted. Sometimes I am surprised I can do as much as tie my own shoes.'
'You shouldn't think this badly of yourself, highness.'
'Right,' I huffed, 'name one thing I can do.' Now that I was walking again (with some assistance of Barnes), I clearly felt the sting in my knee. It was like a big bee kept stinging me - that would make it a wasp, actually, bees can only sting you one time.
'I have heard you graduated two years early, with outstanding grades, even though you followed all subjects on the highest level.'
'But I had a private teacher!' I protested. 'I don't think I deserve much credit for that.'
'How's that? He made those exams for you?' For the first time his voice truly expressed emotion. Curiously I glanced at him, before I grimaced and cursed.
'Shit, oh, sorry.' I grimaced again. 'Gee, that stings.'
'Only a few more steps, highness.'
Finally, we reached a small door at the back of the palace, leading to a scullery the size of a regular kitchen. Here, Barnes took out a chair, and made me sit down. I groaned and stretched my leg, looking down at the scraped skin.
Blood didn't faze me, and I watched hypnotised as the little droplets welled up.
'You know,' I mused (Barnes was rumbling through cabinets in the background), 'when I see my own blood, I always wonder why they call us "of royal blood". It's just the same, isn't it? No golden Ichor or blood with some kind of power. I bet your blood is more special than mine.'
Barnes knelt down before me, a small stool beside him which he used to hold the medical supplies.
'People don't respect me, highness.' Imperturbably he started cleaning the gash.
I sighed, and watched as he worked. 'You weren't born inside the palace. They haven't seen you grow up. You don't carry the royal name.'
'Exactly.' A quick dart of his eyes. A small light flickered inside them. 'Highness, your family has sacrificed a lot for this kingdom, more than you might know. You have been raised as a princess, so you could take the crown.'
'Sure…' I exhaled deeply through my nose. Whatever Barnes was doing, he did it quite carefully, though the disinfectant did prickle a little. 'But… "I haven't done anything in my life. I didn't even do the press conference…"'
Barnes looked up. 'Those aren't your words, highness.'
'True… but still… even though I shouldn't read those comments, they're right. My father was a good, great king. What's going to become of this country now it only has me?'
'The way I hear it, highness, someone who cares about if she does the right thing or not. I can't say that of all the people I know.'
I considered that. 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.'
For a moment I thought I heard Barnes chuckle.
'At least you've got an answer to everything, highness. Here, I'm done.' He got up, and I looked down. A neat, white bandage had been wrapped around my knee, barely restricting me when I moved my leg.
'Thanks.'
'It's my duty, highness.'
His face was back to neutral. Like a perfect mask. How he managed to wear it all day long, I had no idea.
I returned to my room, where I put on some headphones, and lay down on my bed. A little smile crept onto my face. After everything he'd been through, all that he had seen of the world, Barnes thought I could be a good queen. His reassurance didn't chase away the doubt and panic, but cheering me up, it did.
