make it easy | young royals ✓

ten

Wilhelm

Weeks ago, I met Felice in the stable after class and patted her handsome horse, Rousseau while I waited for her. She seemed surprised that I had decided to come, and glanced around cautiously before greeting me, ushering us into the vacant tack room.

"What's this about?" I stared curiously at the saddles lining the wall, smelling of leather and horses.

"I have a proposal," her eyes sparkled. "It's about August."

I'm immediately standing straighter at the mention of his name. "I'm listening."

"What do you think about finally getting some sweet revenge?"

I am all that I never wanted to be at that moment. A satisfied smile spread across my face, we stayed in that smelly room for hours after the sun had gone down.

In the passing weeks, in between classes and during times when I'm unluckily alone, August approaches me about my mother's request. I don't let my mind think about it when there's so much else going on, but he's a constant reminder of reality.

"Have you found anyone suitable yet?" He asks me one day while I'm sitting on the front steps, his books heavy in his hands.

I don't bother looking up or stopping what I'm doing. "No."

August sits down beside me. "Get a move on, Wille."

"Can you stop bothering me about this?"

"You're my responsibility."

I close my phone and slide it into my pocket. "I don't care."

"Stop being so ungrateful and selfish." He puts a hand onto my shoulder, forcing me to stay where I am. "I know you and the socialist are getting comfortable again, and you know what? I don't care. As long as you don't get into trouble and no one knows about it. But you know what I do care about? The image of our family, and you need to do what your mother told you to do. Then you can go have as much fun with your boyfriend as you like."

"Thanks for your permission," and I start to walk away, my footsteps heavy.

"You got a date for the masquerade ball?" August's voice is annoyingly close to my ear as he follows me, and I jerk away.

"I haven't thought much about it," I say honestly. The ball will be a publicised event for the school, and I'm almost sure photos of me will be released by the royal family to the press for confidence and assurance. Yes, the crown prince is perfectly happy at Hillerska boarding school, pictured arm in arm with his girlfriend.

"This is an ideal situation for you, way better than getting sneakily photographed in Bjärstad."

The morning sun beams down upon us, and the sky is a watery blue. "It's not who I am."

"Sometimes, you don't get to be who you are because of circumstances."

"I didn't ask to be a prince."

August's tone is stern, and he's shaking his head. "You're so ungrateful of your privilege, do you know how many people would-"

Not willing to hear his infuriating parenting for any longer, I quicken my strides and disappear into the crowd of people streaming in the hallways.

***

With Simon's promise, he sits next to me a weekend after sunset, our shoulders touching on the narrow bus seat. The bus is lively with chatter with Hillerska students heading into town for the fair, and I glance across to his nervous expression as he watches the scenery in a blur through the window.