The Prince of the Valeran Isles

1 - Victor

James meticulously adjusted the collar of my casual overshirt. His hands, usually steady and unhesitant, trembled ever so slightly, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

"Are you sure you won't need my assistance on this trip, your Highness?" His voice carried a subtle undertone of concern that didn't escape me.

I chuckled lightly, trying to inject some levity into the atmosphere. "I can manage a casual wardrobe on my own, I'm sure," I said. "Besides, I'll have Antonio as my bodyguard, and he knows enough to assist me in a desperate time of need."

James merely nodded, his expression unreadable as he continued his fussing. The furrows in his brow deepened—a clear sign of his inner turmoil, which he attempted to mask under a guise of professional duty.

"Are you worried I won't know how to dress myself during my vacation?" I teased, hoping to ease his worries with a bit of humor.

"No, your Highness," he replied mechanically, his focus never wavering from the task at hand.

"Then what is it?" I pressed, catching the brief flicker of apprehension in his eyes.

"It's nothing, I assure you," he said, a bit too quickly, which only piqued my curiosity further.

James had served as my valet since my teenage years, and over time, I had come to read him like an open book. His current demeanor was a tell-tale sign that something was amiss. "Don't do that," I said, a gentle reprimand in my tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he responded, straightening up and attempting to appear nonchalant—a poor performance by his standards.

"You know I'll be fine. I'm not that helpless without the help," I said, stepping away from his ministrations to check my reflection in the full-length mirror. "I've managed three years at Oxford without such close oversight. I think I know my way around a simple wardrobe."

"Hm," he grunted noncommittally, turning his attention back to neatly arranging my belongings on the bed. His hands moved with practiced precision, but the usual rhythm was off.

His persistent unease nagged at me. "You know this will be my last bit of freedom before I take the throne. You'll be plenty helpful once I'm king," I reassured him, hoping to allay any underlying fears he harbored about my impending responsibilities.

"I'm aware, your highness," he replied dryly, his tone laced with a resignation that spoke volumes.

"Then it would be pointless to have you following at my heel during my entire vacation, especially if it ruins my new identity," I reasoned.

He paused in his task, his hands ceasing their movement as he finally met my gaze. "You don't think Antonio following you around might give that away already?"

I gestured to the khaki overshirt and casual pants I wore, a stark departure from my usual attire. "No one will think that with these clothes on. Besides, Antonio won't be hovering too closely. He knows how to blend in."

"Hm," he grunted again, his skepticism evident.

"James, there's nothing to worry about. I can manage on my own," I insisted, trying to infuse confidence into my voice.

He sighed deeply, his next words carrying a weight that momentarily chilled the air between us. "It's not just that, your highness."

"Then spit it out," I urged, not unkindly.

"There's an ache in my bones. Something doesn't feel right about this trip," he admitted, his voice low.

I rolled my eyes, although a part of me couldn't entirely dismiss his intuition. "You said that last time I left for my studies. Yet nothing happened then."

"May I remind you, your Highness, that you almost got yourself killed off by your rugby sport," he countered.

"That was just a scratch," I dismissed.

"Getting sidelined from your team during the last trimester for a busted shin does not qualify as 'just a scratch'," he retorted, his worry etched deeply into the lines of his face.

"Well, if that's the sort of thing I have to look out for on this trip, then I'm sure I'll survive," I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mm. I'm not sure about that," he muttered darkly, his brow furrowed in concern.

James had always been overly protective, almost fatherly, since my own father had taken ill. He was more than just a servant; he was a confidant, a guide through the tumultuous waters of royal life. While I appreciated his concern, at times it felt overwhelming, suffocating even.

"Don't say it," I warned, sensing another wave of dire warnings about to be unleashed.

"I'm afraid it might be something else," he continued, undeterred.

"James, don't."

"This could be an—"

"Assassination attempt?" I finished for him, not quite masking the irritation in my voice.

He paused, his actions stilling as he finally nodded gravely.

"Let's not get into this again," I said with exasperation. "I'll be fine. It's a cruise, not some night out at Ford's Theatre."

"I'm just worrying for your safety, your Highness," he said, his tone earnest.

"It'll be fine. That's why I have Antonio. It's just for a few weeks, and I'll be back here before you know it," I reassured him, although a small part of me wondered if his fears were not entirely unfounded.

"Of course, your Highness," he conceded, though his tone suggested his worries were far from alleviated.

As I watched him resume packing with meticulous care, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the burdens my role placed upon him. He would never truly be at ease until I was safely back under his watchful eye.

"Are you sure you won't need another set of tails?" James asked suddenly, pulling a black suit from the closet.

"One should be fine. This cruise only holds one formal night, so I don't think I need more than that," I responded, trying to stay practical despite his over-preparation.

"And you don't think people seeing you in a suit will give you away?" he questioned, his worry creeping back into his voice.

"If it does, then we'll have to bribe everyone onboard into secrecy," I joked, elbowing him playfully in the side.

"Hm. Don't be clever with me, boy. I'm serious," he admonished, the word "boy" emphasized with a firmness that was rarely displayed.

Before I could respond, a knock at the door signaled Antonio's arrival.

"Are you ready to go, your Highness?" Antonio asked, his voice carrying through the open doorway.

I glanced back at James, who had just secured the last of my suitcases. He nodded solemnly.

"I think so," I affirmed, stepping towards the door.

"Then let's get on with your last moments of freedom, shall we?" Antonio suggested, his smile offering a brief respite from the morning's tensions.

I took one last look in the mirror, my reflection staring back at me—a prince about to embark on perhaps his last adventure before assuming the mantle of kingship. Once I returned, everything would indeed change. Everything.

©️Sky Mincharo