"Hey Freddy! Who are you texting?"
I looked up to see Zane coming through the door with his Gulbranak demonstration cart.
"Nobody," I responded, slipping my phone into my pocket.
"It's Kayla Morrison, isn't it?"
My jaw dropped. "What? How did you…"
Zane put his hands up. "Freddy, I've had to watch you for years. I picked up on a few things, okay?"
"That is so…"
"She seems like a nice girl," Zane interrupted, "but her dad…"
"Yeah, I know," I cut in. "She's nothing like him."
Zane raised his eyebrows. "I hope not." He started unloading equipment from his cart and setting it up on a sturdy table in the middle of the new training room.
I had moved into the new castle on the ocean floor, and now all my training and correspondence took place there. It was nearly identical to the old castle on land, except that there were some upgrades, like better lighting and flushing toilets. I was able to go out into the city more often, but only when I was accompanied by a dozen or so guards. Regardless, I loved seeing it, exploring it, and finding out what Gulbrania was really like. The past few days had been a lot more enjoyable than the rest of my stay in Gulbrania. Not only was I able to see more of the country, I had also been texting Kayla quite a bit, and that had really improved my mood, even though I was a little worried about some of the things she had been going through. I had surprised myself by how I responded to her concerns about bullying. I'd never really considered what had gotten me through all those difficult times, but maybe, even back then, I had some sense of self purpose. Maybe I did have an inkling of who I was supposed to be.
"Okay, are you ready for this?" Zane asked excitedly, handing me some goggles and thick gloves. "Put those on, stand back, and watch me carefully, because then it will be your turn."
I obeyed, and then observed Zane as he took a large chunk of Gulbranak and set it on a tray over a large hot plate. He poured a chemical mixture over the metal, then grabbed a blow torch and ignited it. I watched him as he circled around the Gulbranak with the directed flame, adding more chemicals and melting the substance down. As fascinating as it was, I couldn't keep my thoughts from wandering back to Kayla. It must have taken a lot of courage to report the incident with Wyatt, and I was frustrated that nobody seemed to believe her. I supposed I could call up the school and tell them I had witnessed it, but I hadn't left a very good impression on the administration there and I wondered if they would take me seriously.
"Hey! Freddy! Did you hear what I just said?"
Zane's voice brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw that the Gulbranak was now liquified in the tray. "Uh, no, sorry," I replied. "Could you tell me again?"
To my surprise, Zane scowled, turned off his blow torch and set it down, then folded his arms across his chest. "Frederick, this is extremely important. We are smelting Gulbranak, which is a dangerous and valuable process, and I need your full attention."
I raised my eyebrows. I was being scolded by a twelve year old. "Look, I'm sorry, I just-"
"Sit down," Zane interjected, gesturing to a nearby chair. "The only way to get you to concentrate is to clear your mind. So, tell me what's going on. Go ahead, get it off your chest."
I balked. "Are you serious?"
Zane didn't say anything. He just looked at me expectantly.
I threw up my hands and sat down. The last thing I wanted to do was have some kind of therapy session with this kid, but Zane seemed determined.
"Okay," I began. "I've, um, been talking with Kayla, and… she's been having some issues." I said vaguely.
"What kinds of issues?" Zane prodded.
I frowned. I didn't really think it would be appropriate to reveal all the details of Kayla's situation. "Well, she was dating this guy at school, and he sort of… took advantage of her, and now that she's reported it, nobody believes her."
Zane's eyes lit up. "Oh, I know what you're talking about! It was that jerk at the homecoming dance. The one that you flipped. I have to say, Freddy, that was the most heroic thing I've ever seen you do."
I stared at Zane. "How in the world could you know that?" I asked incredulously.
Zane smiled and walked to his cart. He pulled something out of one of the drawers and held it up. "Does this look familiar?"
I squinted at the tiny object between his fingers. It looked like a fly with an abnormally large head. "No," I replied.
"Good, that means it's effective." Zane walked back to me, showing me the device. "This is a micro camera, and it's been following you for most of your life."
"What?" I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair.
"Calm down," Zane said, waving his hand dismissively. "We never recorded anything too sensitive, but this was a necessary precaution. A lot depends on your safety, and we needed eyes on you whenever you traveled outside of our secure zones."
"Secure zones?"
"Yeah, like your home, your car, your regular classrooms, Milo's house…"
I shook my head. "So you've been watching everything I do all these years?"
"Not just me," Zane said casually. "There's an entire team dedicated to your security. And we didn't watch everything you did, that would have been incredibly boring."
I shuddered. I felt so violated. So exposed.
"It's okay, Freddie, it's not a big deal. Nobody was watching you for entertainment, although there were times when it was kind of entertaining. But mostly it was all professional. We were just looking for potential risks and threats."
I took a deep breath. Parts of what Zane was saying made some sense, but knowing that I'd never been truly alone was exceptionally unnerving.
"You were just trying to keep me safe?" I said, more as a statement than a question.
"That's right. And let me tell you, I had to save your life a few more times than I would have liked."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, like that time you almost got crushed at the football game."
I blinked. I remembered the pillar almost falling on me, but I thought it was just adrenaline that had helped me move so swiftly out of harm's way.
"What did you… how did you…?"
"I have a line of incredibly powerful remote control cars," Zane explained. "I had one of them zip in there and move you out of the way."
I didn't know how a little car had the capability to do that, but I wasn't in the mood to ask. I didn't think my brain could handle any more new information.
"The good news," Zane said happily, "is that if your friend needs proof that that guy attacked her, we have it."
It took me a minute to figure out what Zane was talking about. The horror of discovering that I'd been under constant surveillance had made me forget that this whole conversation had started with Kayla.
"Yeah, I guess that would be helpful," I said, but I wasn't so sure. If I sent Kayla video footage of that night, I'd have to explain how I got it, which meant I'd probably have to explain everything.
"Okay, so are you ready to smelt some metal?" Zane asked, picking up his blow torch again.
I nodded, but I doubted I would be able to focus. In addition to my thoughts being full of Kayla, I now had to wrap my mind around the fact that my life had never been my own, and never would be.
*****
"You really are getting much better."
I squinted up at Alm from the floor. He had just knocked me off my feet for about the seventh time, and I was starting to wonder if I should just stay down there. "You think so?" I asked skeptically as I sat up and rubbed my shoulder.
"Definitely. Your form has improved and your agility is top notch. It's just your execution that needs work."
"No kidding," I grumbled as I got to my feet.
"I think we'll end for today," Alm said, eyeing me. "You look like you should take a rest."
"Who? Me?" I laughed. "No, I was totally looking forward to getting knocked out ten more times."
Alm frowned. "Sarcasm is not becoming of a prince."
I sighed. "You're starting to sound like Ms. Dahl."
He smiled, which was a rare occurrence. "That's because I've been spending more time with her." He turned and left the training room without another word.
I chuckled, then grabbed my side because laughing hurt from the beating I'd gotten from Alm. I gathered my things and started to head back to my room, but as I was crossing the front entrance, I heard a knock on the door. I stared at the huge wooden slabs, wondering if I had heard correctly. I'd never heard anyone knock on the castle doors before. I approached them hesitantly, then turned the huge knob and peeked outside.
"Oh good, it's you!"
Kirsten Dahl was standing outside, wearing a bright pink coat and looking expectant.
I forced myself not to make a face that reflected the way I felt. "Hi. Can I help you?"
She quirked an eyebrow. "The real question is: can I help you?" She smiled flirtatiously and winked.
I didn't respond, so she continued.
"My aunt wanted me to deliver this to you," she said, pulling a large book out of her coat and handing it to me. I read the cover. The Compete Guide to Becoming a Gentleman.
"Wow, thank you," I said. "It looks like a fascinating read."
Kirsten stood there gazing at me for a few seconds, and I was tempted to just shut the door.
"Aren't you going to invite me in? That would be the polite thing to do."
I swallowed hard. I most definitely did not want to let her in, but if I didn't she'd probably report my lack of manners to Tabitha.
"Of course," I replied with a forced smile, opening the door wider so she could pass.
Kirsten took in the expansive entry way, her eyes lingering on the elaborate chandelier hanging above us. "It must be nice to be so rich," she said dreamily.
I raised my eyebrows. "It's about the same as being poor, but the clothes are fancier."
She laughed, a high-pitched giggle that I was fairly certain she had practiced. I led her into a sitting room that was right off the entry way. She sat down on a love seat and I chose a chair across the room.
"Don't you want to sit a bit closer?" She asked, patting the seat next to her.
"Ah, no, I just got done with training and I'm all sweaty."
Instead of being put off like I'd hoped, she smiled and let her eyes rove over me.
"So, you studied narwals?" I asked before things got too uncomfortable for me.
"Yes, I did."
"And, what did you learn about them?"
Kirsten pouted. "I learned that they're a lot uglier in real life."
I took a deep breath. This girl was something else. And at that moment I really wished that she was doing something else.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask me?" I said, wondering why I was always the one asking questions.
"Oh, I don't need to," she replied, "I already know everything about you."
I blinked. "You do?"
"Of course," she said with a little laugh. "The news has covered your whole life story."
I straightened in my chair, a little disturbed at this new development. "Really?"
"Oh yes," she replied with a glint in her eyes. "They've covered all your history, your talents, your preferences, and your downfalls."
I started to feel a little sick, wondering what everyone in Gulbrania would think about my pitiable life in Indiana. "They covered all that, huh?"
"Yes, it's very interesting," Kirsten said in a suggestive voice. "This one is my favorite," she added, pulling out her phone and walking over to me. "I have it bookmarked."
I tentatively took her phone as she offered it to me, not terribly excited to read what she thought was so interesting. But as I skimmed through the first few paragraphs, I realized that I had been worried about all the wrong things. The article from the Gulbrania Herald described how I had been sent to Indiana to get a "real world education," but while I was there I had broken so many hearts with my stunning good looks and reckless charm that I had to be recalled to Gulbrania to receive rigorous etiquette lessons. Apparently the press hadn't been satisfied with my lack of cooperation the other day and had decided to make up their own stories.
I handed the phone back to Kirsten, who was too close and peering at me with that frightening eagerness. "Kirsten, you should know that-"
"Don't worry, I like bad boys," she said in a low voice. "I can handle having my heart broken."
I was very nearly squirming out of my seat when my mother stepped into the room.
"Frederick! There you are! Oh, you have company?"
I stood up and took a step away from Kirsten, extremely grateful for the interruption. "Um, yes. Mom, this is Kirsten Dahl, Tabitha's niece."
My mom smiled. "Oh, of course! How are you, dear?"
"I'm wonderful, thank you, your highness," she replied politely.
"Well, Kirsten," I said, crossing the room to the door, "thank you so much for coming by and delivering the book."
"Oh, she doesn't have to leave," my mother interjected.
"Yes, she does!" I said, perhaps a little too emphatically. My mother stared at me, and I turned to Kirsten. "I mean, it'd be great if you could stay, but I know my mother has urgent matters to discuss with me."
"I do?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "About the presentation gala! Which I'm totally excited about, by the way."
My mom gave me a stern look, but then she turned to Kirsten. "I'm afraid he's right, dear, I do have some things to discuss with him, but I'm sure we'll see you again soon."
Kirsten smiled and nodded, then gave me one more longing gaze before leaving the room.
My mother raised an eyebrow at me. "I hope you have a good reason for being so rude."
I threw up my hands. "I'm sorry, mom, but I have absolutely nothing in common with that girl. And she's a little bit scary."
To my surprise, my mother laughed. "She is somewhat vapid, I'll give you that. But son, you really need to work on being tactful, even if you're uncomfortable."
"Believe me," I grumbled, "I tried."
My mother waved her hand. "Anyway, I did, in fact, need to talk to you about the gala. You're going to need to put together a performance."
"A what?"
"Just a little performance to showcase your talent. You could play your guitar or something."
I frowned. "That sounds silly."
"Nonsense. It's just to help people see who you are and get to know you."
Her words reminded me of the news article I had just read and my mouth went dry. "I don't think people want to get to know me," I said woefully. "They all think I'm some douche-bag ladies man."
My mother suppressed a smile. "I assume you're talking about the news stories. Don't worry, Frederick, nobody believes that stuff anyway."
"Some of them believe it," I mumbled. As much as I didn't want to be painted as some heartless jerk, what bothered me even more was the fact that nobody really knew me. They didn't know who I had been and what I had been through. They all just assumed that I was some spoiled, good-looking prince.
"The other urgent matter," she continued, "is your date to the gala. Have you asked anyone yet?"
I groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Yes, Frederick, it's tradition."
"Well, maybe we should try being a little more progressive."
My mother sighed. "Honey, it's really not that difficult. Why don't you ask Kirsten? I'm sure she'd be willing to accompany you," she teased.
I glared at her, and she put up her hands defensively.
"It was just a suggestion," she said lightly. "But you need to figure that out, as well as your performance. The presentation gala is less than a week away."
I nodded in defeat, realizing there was no arguing with her on this. She walked up to me and gave me a hug. "I love you, son. I know this is hard for you, but you were born to do this."
I backed away. "To do what? Play guitar and ask girls on dates?"
"No. To lead this country."
Her words felt like a ten ton weight on my shoulders. Of course I knew that being a prince meant that one day I would take charge of Gulbrania, but no one had ever said it out loud. Now it felt real. I shivered. Hopefully that day would be many years in the future.