Page 5 of The Dandelion Princess
I focus on a mediocre landscape painting hanging on the opposite wall and inhale. Nothing has changed. I exhale slowly. Marc is back, but I nursed that crush along like aSquadRunteam for too many years. The castle is a smoking pile of ruins and I’m out of arrows. It’s time to call it quits.
Past time.
2
Friend Zone
MARC
Noah sinks a three-point shot over my outstretched hand and jogs backward, taunting. “When did you get old?”
“Do you know what time it is in Seong? I should be asleep.” I roll my neck and pass the basketball to a teammate before posting up under the basket. Thor Brosemann, Ella’s usual security detail, shoulder-checks his guard and drills the ball into my hands. I roll it in for a soft layup.
It’s not enough to win.
“Your crown,” I say, lobbing a towel at Noah’s head at the end of the game.
He rubs it over his hair as the others—an under-butler, a couple of guys from palace security, and a pastry chef—make their way to the showers. Amidst the distant clink of weight machines and classic rock, I wipe my face with the edge of my tank top and sink onto a bench.
“Are you going to give me your report?” Noah asks, throwing back a swig of water.
He’s not only my best friend but my future king. The noble families of Sondmark are still required to take an oath of allegiance to the monarch, and I, as the current holder of the van Heyden title, will bear the sword of state when Noah is crowned. When he asks a question, I have to answer.
I flick the rubber lip of the water bottle. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. “It’s worse than the press reports show.”
My words are a meager portion of the truth and a line forms in my brow until I work out why. For months, I have been reporting my daily observations to another member of the House of Wolffe. They belong to her.
“The press is reporting significant progress,” Noah prods.
I lift my shoulder and repeat the words of my government report. “Urban centers are beginning to take shape. Farther out, we established temporary shelters and a reliable supply chain for food and other necessities, but Seong has a lot of people scattered in upland villages. Even in the capital, it’s one step forward and two steps back. Inflation is rampant, and it’s hard to get anything but shelf-stable food.”
His tone sharpens. “Is there a risk of famine?”
I shake my head. “Without regular shipments, maybe there would be.”
Noah tosses the ball between his palms. “Glad to be back?”
“Of course.”
My answer is brisk and certain but my thoughts stir with complexity. I close my eyes, blocking out the opulence of the palace gym, trying to tap into the single-mindedness I woke up with every day in Seong. Most of the time was spent getting supplies to outlying islands and organizing donations. During what were supposed to be periods of rest, I donned a hardhat, work gloves, and face mask, clearing villages of rubble and debris.
I open my eyes to the painted ceiling depicting the old Sondish myth of the Dragonslayer and the Maiden, the apple-cheeked girl nestled in the curl of a scaly tail. The knight, clad in his requisite armor and carrying his requisite sword, is left to handle the beast on his own.
I am here, but there is another me still in Seong. Still living the story of aftershocks and refugees returning to ancestral villages. Still living the story of a whole country being stretched and stretched until everyone has a place to spread a sleeping mat.
This is Sondmark, I remind myself, where the prime minister is calling for stricter immigration controls, afraid that I will be a bridge between my mother’s homeland—a place that is stamped on the shape of my eyes and the warmth of my skin—and the country of my birth.
Vailys.
“I don’t know how you did it,” Noah says.
“With my favorite chainsaw,” I answer.
Noah palms the ball. “You didn’t have to return.”
“I can’t neglect my business any longer, and Alix is about to be married.” I smother a yawn as jetlag has its way. “She needs to step back from helping so much with the estate.”
Though I am a hereditary peer of Sondmark, I learned about duty from my mother.
