BMP: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“And actually, I’m the Prime Minister now.”

POV: James Bret Nikolai Ravn Østergaard

I wonder where Olivia was, but I don’t want to face her right now. I feel so low, and I don’t want her to see me like this. I bolted out of the Royal Quarters and marched around without direction.  And then I saw the Royal Library, as if it’s encouraging me to enter.

I needed to think, to gather my thoughts, and organize a plan. Perhaps a library would be the perfect place for that.

I entered the double doors, and approached me is the familiar scent of old books. I was about to come forward when I saw something move on one corner.

I knew I wasn’t alone.

“Who’s in there?” I demanded, “Show yourself!”

I awaited the reveal, but whoever it was must be playing with me. And I wasn’t in the mood for games. I took a few steps closer, but remained the distance. “Show yourself or I will call the Royal guards!”

Another motion, and walked out in between tall bookshelves was a girl. She looked very familiar, as I know I’ve seen her before. She was young, perhaps twenty of age or less, with jet black hair, and round expressive eyes. She was wearing something casual, but something very sophisticated as well. White shorts looped a black belt, black long sleeve coat over a white sheer blouse. We caught eyes for a split second, before I moved towards her.

She took a bow, and remained her gaze low.

“You!” I exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer. And I saw, from behind her, on her hand, is a book. I grabbed it and leveled it on her sight.

She was looking at my hand, instead of the book I was holding. And then I realized it was my ring she was looking at; the ring that symbolizes my being Royalty. Inscribed into it is my name, and I had it since I was born. Every Royalty owns his own ring, with his name engraved into it. It depicts the Royal Insignia.

“This is the Royal Library!” I said, “Which means only members of the Royal Family is allowed in. How did you get in here?

“Are you about to steal this?” I shook the book, and she finally spoke to defend herself, for the first time hearing her voice, both so scared yet holds a definite amount of conviction, “No, Your Highness… I was only reading it…”

“Reading it?” I was about to say something more, but the doors re-opened, and stepping in is a man of fifties, who didn’t seem to notice me while he spoke, “Candice, we must go.” And when he looked up and saw me, I imagine him on his knees, begging for my forgiveness. But he was proud. In fact, he flashed a smile upon seeing me, “Your Highness… I didn’t expect to see you here.” Then he glanced to this Candice, who walked to stand just behind him.

“Go wait for me outside,” he whispered to Candice who looked at me once and left.

He bowed, “I deeply apologize if my daughter has in any way disrespected you, Your Highness.”

So this is her Father. For a while we’re staring at each other. He was fierce and determined, maybe too much for him to consider glancing away. He was still smiling.

And like a memory coming back, I suddenly feel like I’ve seen him before.

“You,” I said, “I remember you…”

His smile was steady but empty, like a mockery. I almost wanted to punch him.

“You are a Minister, are you not? I remember seeing you in these halls before.”

“That took you a long time to realize.” He bowed, this time, a more formal one, “I greet you, Prince James.

“And actually, I’m the Prime Minister now.”

“But you see, it isn’t up to me now, but the Queen.”

POV: Elisabeth Bach

I need to talk to my son. I need to see James to convince him somehow to stay. Now that the Crown Prince has passed away, he has become our only hope. It has been hours since Petersen drew his last breath, and I wished to lock myself up in a room, but I knew it wasn’t logical to do so. I need to keep my head up. I need to stabilize the House. I couldn’t imagine James in the same room as the Queen. They are both stubborn in their own way, that I feel it impossible for them to get a common ground. It is my husband, the Crown Prince, who always came in between the two. James, as a child, admired the Queen. They spent so much time together and Petersen and I always thought it would do him great, and would help him become a true Prince. But she wasn’t just his Grandmother, but the Queen of Wolland. And he saw and heard things he shouldn’t have had at such a young age. His inborn curiosity got the best of him.

But he is my son, still. And in a way I must understand why he left. Partly I blamed myself, for allowing James to see the realities of life at a very young age. Maybe if we allowed him to see these naturally in due time, he wouldn’t have held such a grudge to the Palace.

Tomorrow, when the news breaks out of the Crown Prince’s death, we must have a stable ground for the public to lean on. The position of the Crown Prince must not be left empty. And only James can stabilize that situation.

I left our room, the Crown Prince’s room, with hopes on James. And when I asked Jackson of his whereabouts, I was told that he is currently speaking to the Queen. So I must wait. But when he left the Royal Quarters, he looked so mad. I decided to give him more time to clear his mind. He barely noticed my presence anyway.

I dismissed my servants hoping to spend the next hour wandering around the grounds, and I can’t help but look back at the time when I first met the Crown Prince. We were in early teen hood, and my Father was the Minister of Defense at the time. It was the late Princess Dowager’s Annabeth’s (King Lupert Bret Schrøder-Ravn’s wife) 90^th birthday celebration, and everyone was invited to the Palace. I wasn’t really good with people then, of course that was before I became the Crown Princess, so I snuck out of the party and roamed around. It wasn’t of my knowledge that Peterson was following me. When I nearly lost my way, that’s when he showed up.

I remember:

“Little lost precious one?” He approached me very calmly, hands on his back, his hair dancing with the wind, and his eyes burning me with embarrassment.

He looked more of the Prince Consort with the structure of his face and all, but his eyes were as blue as the Queen's. He has dark hair, cleanly cut. The Ravns are well known for the contrast of their dark hair and blue eyes, which Prince Hendrick also inherited.

I wasn’t able to say anything, yet Prince Petersen kept me entertained for the rest of the night, telling jokes here and there, and bragging about the Palace.

Years had gone by, and I would constantly beg my Father to take me to the Palace. But of course, he can’t. And then one day we received a Royal Summoning when I was eighteen. When I arrived, the Prince merely proposed. It was simple, hurried, but magical in all angles. I was in love with that fourteen year old boy, as I am today and forevermore.

I was lost in our own memories that subconsciously, I headed to the exact place where Petersen and I first met. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them, I saw Jackson approaching me.

“Your Highness, Prince James and Miss are on their way to leave.”

“What?! Where are they?”

Jackson led me back inside Thorssen Assembly, where I saw James with his fiancé walking their way out of the Palace.

I called out. Never will I let James, once again, walk away from me.

“James!” He followed my voice and saw me approaching. He wore a blue polo shirt tucked underneath his trousers. I glanced at his fiancé and I can’t help but feel jealous. He had chosen her over us, over me. And it pains me to think about it. James left when he was fifteen years old, and now he has grown up completely I barely recognized him earlier. But I admit seeing him hand in hand with his younger brother, Adam, made me feel warm inside.

“Before you leave, I was wondering if you can join me for some tea…”

He looked at his fiancé as if asking for her permission. And I knew if I ask only of his acquaintance, he wouldn’t accept. So I asked the girl along, so he would feel at ease.

“Of course, that offer extends to the both of you.”

James whispered something to her, which I couldn’t quite register. But eventually, they agreed.

I asked Jackson to prepare us some chai tea and prepare the Summoning Room for us.

***

It was a little awkward at first, sharing tea with my son after eight years with his possible wife. The Summoning Room is slightly smaller than the Royal Quarters, nevertheless resembles the interior.

“So, Olivia, is it?” I turned to her, seated beside James of course, across me.

She nodded, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Olivia does look pretty, average, but still pretty. She’s petite and that curly red hair of hers is surely an asset, an accessory to her plain black dress. But she looked scared and weak. She would struggle with life in the Palace, as I did at first, but I knew I had wanted it then. I had seen this life ahead. I was exposed to it. But Olivia was from Scotland, nothing but ordinary. I wonder if she knew what awaits her if she chooses the Palace. Or maybe it is my fear for her that is the same fear of losing James all over again.

“And what do you do?”

She was about to speak, but James spoke for her in behalf. “She’s a waitress. The best one at that.” He patted her on the shoulder, smiling as if the proudest, but it’s obvious to see Olivia’s look of humiliation.

“A waitress?” I confirmed, unable to sound less judgmental. I stopped myself from speaking more.

I turned to James.

“My Prince, you don’t have to leave so soon.” I gripped my cup of tea and took it closer to my mouth for a sip, anticipating his reaction.

“I wish so too Mother. But you see, it isn’t up to me now, but the Queen.”

“The Queen? I’m sure she would want you to stay as much as I do, my Prince. You are after all the Crown Prince now.”

He glanced at Olivia once again.

“I have stated my conditions, Mother. And I’m sure the Queen is weighing down her options by now.”

He was smiling, but I see his hidden agenda. It’s funny how I seem to not know my son anymore, and worse, it makes me wonder if I did knew him at all.

There was a knock on the door, and Jackson invited himself in.

“Your Highness,” he greeted me first, and then turned to James, “Your Highness. The Queen has asked for you down the Agerskov Office.”

James laughed, as if he expected the summoning. “See Mother, it turns out that I will be staying after all. If you care to keep Olivia company for me, Mother?”

“Of course, my Prince,” was all I can say, too shock and proud of his cleverness.

“I must have my contender on this game of yours.”

POV: Margarett Katherine Ravn-Østergaard

I cannot believe that the Crown Prince just died, and here I am replacing him at the same day he left us. I am mourning. But I keep reminding myself that I didn’t just lose a son, but an heir to the throne. And I must pursue what is more important. I can mourn some other day. Before I became a Mother, I was the Crown Princess, the Queen.

My Father, the late King Lupert Bret Schrøder-Ravn, showed me the advantage of the public eye. The Monarchy, the House, is the people’s backbone. They see us as powerful, and therefore, such power we must show them. But power can be stripped away, even for a Royalty. Without an heir, the Parliament will heat up. Some of the Parties have already questioned the existence of the House. If it weren’t for the public, we would no longer exist. My Father told me never to make that happen. Our ancestors have sacrificed so much for Wolland, that we must maintain the pride of the House. We stopped the system of Absolute Monarchy because we want to show Wolland that we don’t ‘own’ them. We simply represent them, in a way that we do now with the Parliament. Our power, technically, is limited to non-partisan and ceremonial functions. But the people see more than that. No matter what happens, at the end of the day, the House must remain standing.

James is the second to succession, while Adam is the third. If I let go of James, Adam will be the Crown Prince. But he is too young, and I’m too old. James is the logical choice, perhaps the only choice.

I freed myself from my own thoughts when Jackson let himself in. The Agerskov Office is the official business room for the Royalty. The room itself is divided in two semi-rooms, both holding desks. These two rooms are linked to another room containing the conference table, where Agerskov’s main door can be found, where I was seated, waiting for the Prince.

“Your Majesty, the Prince has arrived,” he announced.

“Let him in.”

He walked in, head’s held high. And for a second, I let myself envision him as King.

“Take a seat, my Prince.”

And he did, on the opposite end of the conference table.

I tried to observe him. He seemed confident, but that’s a given. He knew his conditions are absolute. And he knew all along, I’d agree to them. But even if I do end up playing along his game, I must play with my luck as well. Forfeiting is the last scenario. I have to have a back straw. If he’s up for a challenge, then that challenge I must accept. But I must not fight blind. And I know exactly how to stir it up.

“I’ve thought of your conditions, my Prince.”

He isn’t responding.

“And I will accept them, given my own conditions.”

I think he saw it coming. He didn’t seem surprised at all. He flashed a smile and then said, “What will these conditions be?”

“You’re right my Prince. I do not know this Olivia of yours to judge her. Therefore, I must get to know her first.” James sat back and leaned on his chair, possibly anticipating more from me.

“She must stay here, at the Palace, with you. But I will decide to acknowledge her in three months. In the given time, she must learn the etiquette, and the ways of the Palace, Wolland history and culture, and even the laws that govern this land. If she proves herself worthy, then I will give her the rightful acknowledgment you want,” I said.

He smiled, and I can sense him laughing inside.

“Oh Grandma, what about my second condition?” He repeated the terms, “You will give her the title of a Crown Princess, when I marry her, or I won’t stay.”

“Your condition is one-sided my Prince. I will give her the acknowledgment you want if she earns it, and when she does, a marriage won’t be a problem. And marriages with a Prince always carry a title. That won’t be a problem.

“If she fails, and that’s up to her, then both of you can go.”

He seemed to have not seen that coming. His walls must be breaking down, or maybe I’m just seeing through them, for I sensed him tensing.

“I will give you a chance, if you give us all a chance. That’s how negotiation works. Therefore, I have my own conditions to top yours.

“You have challenged me, my Prince. You have Olivia to represent you, but who will represent me?”

He squinted.

“That’s when all of this become fair, my Prince. I must have my contender on this game of yours.”

I stood up and turned towards the far end of the room, with my back facing the conference table, not wanting to face him when I say it.

“I will bring someone to the Palace. A candidate for Crown Princess, one I see fit for the position. And at the end of the terms, you will choose between Olivia and this girl as your Princess, as you marry her.”

I heard him laugh, same with the sound of a chair pulling back. He must have stood up.

“Your condition is flawed, Grandmother, for I will choose Olivia regardless.”

“Then you have nothing to lose.” I faced him from the other end of the room with my stare fiercer than ever. “Of course you only get to choose if Olivia gains my approval. If not, then you must both go. Olivia will leave without anything to lose, for she still has you. But when you leave, James, you will leave behind your title as well. You will no longer be a member of the Royal Family, and therefore must live on your own, outside the help of Princess Veronika.”

He took a while before he replied, his voice cracking, “Three months then.”

“Your Father speaks the great of you.”

POV: Candice Regerett

My Father has once again asked me to go to the Palace today. And I can’t help but wonder why. I spent the last time idling around, and now that the Crown Prince has passed away, I see no other reason to visit again. Besides, the Palace is mourning. When we passed by the Holbæk Palace, where the Parliament and the Parties meet, my heart can’t help but ache when I saw the Wolland flag at half-mast, raised halfway from the pole. The morning seemed too timid, and the breeze was too humid.

When we reached the steps of Thorssen Assembly, I noticed that Father didn’t do his usual routine of inhaling whatever it is that surrounds the Palace’s atmosphere. Instead, his gaze was straight. And then three servants came down from the steps and addressed me as “My Lady.” It seemed rather weird.

And then my Father turned to me, half-smiling, and pointed to the main entrance of the Palace.

“Why don’t you go ahead, dear darling?”

I looked at him with questioning eyes, but he returned it the same.

I went on, very carefully, and the three servants followed me. They wore the same outfits. Black skirts, coat and white blouse underneath with a miniature Wolland flag pinned on their left chest. The one in the middle looked slightly taller, and she seemed happy for whatever she’s doing.

I took each step slowly, wondering why for the first time ever, my Father let me walk ahead of him. And then I glanced back, and I saw our car leaving. I looked around only to realize that my Father is nowhere in sight. I hurried back down and shouted his name, but one of the servants stopped me from pursuing our car.

“My Lady, the Queen has been waiting for you. You must see Her Majesty right away!”

I looked at the three of them desperately. “Where did Father go?” I asked.

“Perhaps back home, my Lady,” spoke the one in the middle, the tallest girl who has brunette shoulder length hair.

***

At first I thought they were accompanying me to see the Queen at the Royal Quarters, but they stopped midway. They took me at the Royal Library.

“The Queen is inside, my Lady,” said the tallest girl.

I went in, shaking, wondering what is going on.

The familiar setting of the Royal Library approached me. Bookshelves lined up according to sections, and reading tables and chairs are everywhere. From one of the shelves, adjacent to the huge window, I saw the Queen standing, looking up at the tallest row of books.

“Your Majesty, I have arrived,” I announced myself, for she was alone. It was the first time I ever saw the Queen without company, without Jackson at that.

She turned to me, smiling. She wore her crown, but her black gown signifies it all.

“Oh Candice!” She greeted me, with open arms, tempting me to come closer.

When I reached her, she pulled me for a hug. And I felt the tension in my spine.

“I am sorry,” she said, cupping my face, “You see, I just announced the news this morning. I didn’t have the luxury of time to change clothes. Your Father was very excited.”

She held my arm and pulled me closer, to exactly where she was standing a while ago.

“Come along,” she says.

“My Father is very excited for what, Your Majesty?”

She was sliding her fingers through the line up of books, probably seeking for one very specific.

“Why, your arrival here, of course!”

“I saw him leave before me. What am I doing here, Your Majesty?” I dared to ask. Compared to my Father, I am more comfortable to raise questions with the Queen. She has always been warm to me, ever since we met when my Father was first appointed Prime Minister of Wolland. She would share stories with me, and knowledge of books, and she even shared the Royal Library to keep me company while I am here.

“To stay, my dear Candice,” she stopped and turned to me, brushing my hair back.

And then she flicked her eye, as if spotting what she was looking for. It was on the opposite shelf. When she came back to me, she was holding a big book.

When she held it up, I saw the title “Wolland’s Royal Family: The Houses of the New Government”. I looked at the Queen, who was smiling back at the book she was holding.

“They say being Royalty is through blood, but I say it’s through legacy,” she was caressing the book. “You don’t just become Queen, you live as a Queen.”

“Here,” she offered me the book, “Take a peek.”

And I did. It was heavy, but luckily I could handle the weight. And I saw that each page is dedicated to each Royalty, from Kings and Queens, to Princes and Princesses, since the 18^th century.

“To be included in this book is a great honor. Yet some people would dare to throw it away,” she looked away for a second.

I flipped through the last pages, and there I saw a page dedicated to the Queen, and the Crown Prince. It seemed to have stopped there.

“It’s not yet updated,” she answered the question in my head, “When Prince James marry, then he will be added to the archives.”

I didn’t understand why she was sharing this, but I replied anyway, somehow hoping it would console the Queen. “I’m sure he’ll make such a great King.”

She sighed, took the book from my hand and returned it to its place. “I wonder if he will be a fine one even.”

There was silence, and the question of what the Queen meant when she said I am here to stay still bugs my mind.

“I want your help, dear Candice,” her tone changed, “I want you to help the Prince.”

“Prince James?” I asked, hopeful the Queen won’t notice the raise in my voice.

She walked back at me, held both my shoulders, and spoke, “The Prince is misguided. He claims to marry a girl just for the sake of love. If I don’t agree, then I will lose him forever. Love isn’t just the only factor to consider, both in and out of the Palace. And I know you know that, my dear. You are wise. Your Father speaks the great of you.”

What?

I didn’t know what to respond. The Queen had that expectation of me, I didn’t even know until today. But the question is: where is this all leading? Why is she telling me this?

“I want you to show the Prince just that. I want you to open his eyes.” She walked past me, and from her back I heard her continue, “And when you succeed, I will reward you and your Father the honor you deserve.”

She turned around, facing me. “I will reward you the crown.”