make it easy | young royals ✓

twelve

August

The desolated gym in the morning gives me an inexpressible rush of motivation, and as I set up the weight racks, upbeat music blasts in my ears. I seldom ever sleep in later than seven, maybe only when I'm travelling and my body isn't adjusted to the time differences. Sometimes my superiority complex flares up when I've finished a run, lifted, read thirty pages of a self-discipline book and showered all before anyone is up.

My phone rings insistently in my pocket, and I stop my set, sliding it out to see who's calling so early.

"Queen Kristina." I acknowledge her, instantly alert and sitting up straighter. "What's the occasion?"

"Goodmorning, August," her voice comes from the other side of the phone call, distant yet close. "I'm just calling to see how Wilhelm's going."

Maybe you should talk to him yourself, but he's probably still sleeping, drooling on his pillows dreaming about some lower-class filth. "Of course, the prince has settled in very well. He's on top of his school work and making friends. He seems happier these days, you know? It's like-"

"Yeah, good," she cuts me off like she didn't really care about anything she asked, and my muscles tingle with tension. "How about the PR stunt?"

"It's... coming along."

"Coming along? That's not good enough."

Your son isn't good enough to be the prince, admit it. "I've been trying to convince him, he's just not listening to me."

The queen exhales deeply. "Well, do something, August. Make sure he goes to that stupid ball with someone suitable."

And it's my fault that the prince is naive, childish and lacks the cognitive abilities to think and make decisions? I want to yell at her. How can you think of him when I exist? The outstanding, future valedictorian, successful, ambitious...I would make a better king than Wilhelm ever will. But my efforts will always go unnoticed.

I clear my throat. "What about Felice Ehrencrona? She's-"

"I don't care. Get him in a photo with a girl, any girl if it's really this hard."

I wince at her bluntness. "Don't worry-"

"Just get it done," and she hangs up.

If I had sympathy and regret for Wilhelm during the past months, it's ebbing away. When he returned to Hillerska earlier in the term, I thought he was ready to change. He seemed ready, new, and determined. As the weeks pass by, his total disregard and carelessness for the duty he's supposed to uphold is enough to make my blood boil. He has no idea how hard it is to be nobody, to have to climb the ladder for recognition. He's born into the spotlight, and I'm the backup dancer. How can he be so damn ungrateful for what he has?

"Why can't you just do what your family wants you to do?" I corner him one afternoon. "When will you stop being so selfish?"

"Why must I do what others ask of me?"

"Because family will always be there for you."

Wilhelm turns to me, his face twisted into something resembling fury. "Be there for me? That's the funniest joke you've ever said in your life."

"We were there when the tapes got leaked, when Erik-"

"Did you forget that you leaked the tapes, August?" He almost screams, but seems to be aware that we're standing in the corner of a classroom with students streaming past the door outside. "And don't - don't talk to me about Erik. His name isn't worthy in your mouth."