Princess Disaster

Chapter 2

The drone of the airplane hummed on and on as the plane bobbled and nearly dropped over the airspace. I wake up to hear the ding of the aircraft and feel an IV in my hand. I thrash and make an attempt to flee, but then I remember where I am. Who I'm with.

There was a time during the Great Pollution that people lived in intense fear of what was flying around in the skies. Was it the aliens that had come to stake their claim on us - or the Gods that had finally decided that their creation was too much?

Perhaps that was why Dad was not in a rush to find Mom. How can you go return a royal to her proper place when planes heat up in the sky, hardly able to make it across the nation? Let alone to the other side. Who knew if the legendary Arkethia was gracing the skies with her presence!

Mr. Sokolov makes a gesture with his hand, and a flight attendant comes to remove the IV. She wraps it in gauze, and I exclaim "What is going on?" to everyone.

"You had a panic attack," said Mr. Sokolov. "I have wrestled bears in the Tartar Mountains, and I have never met a woman with such a strong grip like yours. Nearly toppled me over."

I felt oddly satisfied with that answer and sat deeper into my seat after leaning back. It is rather comfortable, and my legs are tingling from the satisfaction that I feel.

I am served Menemen - eggs scrambled with peppers, tomato, and olive oil on a brioche bread, Borek (baked pastries filled with spinach and cheese), and a whipped White Russian coffee. Feeling positively pampered, I practically melt when a warm wet towel is put over my eyes and my hands are put in bags of warm lotion.

"Oh, my goodness," I murmur, full of glee.

Then I feel gentle hands on my feet being put in a bowl of warm water.

"Oh no, you couldn't possibly," I say.

"I insist," says the woman, and I throw my head back in happiness as she cleans my feet. I am barely able to bite back my happiness.

It does end though. My feet are dried, my hands are freed, and I feel the coffee-laced thoughts coming back to me.

What the hell am I doing? Where the hell am I? This has to be some kind of mistake. Granted, I had possibly known in the back of my mind that this was real, but I would never actually assume that it could be so. I mean - my dad is Mitch Vesper. Sure, he may have had a high-profile job, but he left that to go into the restaurant business. He ran a barbecue place in St. Simon's Island. Surely, no Queen of Tartaria would associate with a man like my dad. Not that I don't love him, but we hardly seemed like princess material.

I want to ask all these questions to Mr. Sokolov, but he seems very animatedly entertained in the conversation on his phone.

My mind zones out to my father. He never seemed very interested in all the women that were in his life. There were always so many women coming in and out of my vicinity. Something about his peaceful presence. They all wanted to be a part of it - to make sure that he alright and thriving. He was always so sad.

Now I know why.

That stupid Queen Cleodora had probably abandoned me on his doorstep. That had to be what happened. Dad was always too nice, he probably found himself being abandoned all alone with me when she couldn't do it.

How did she do it though? Did she fly an assassin late in the night to drop me off at my doorstep?

That didn't make sense though. Cause Dad would have had to left me first. That didn't seem right.

She must have done something to make him feel like he had to go ahead and leave me. Yeah, cause that's exactly what Aunt Grace said. Except, we haven't seen this woman in 30 years. I'm sure the story is a bit fuzzy by now.