Awkward silence for twenty seconds.
Vincent:
If I may, I’d like to redirect us back to the topic at hand, which is choosing the number of nannies and setting up criteria so we may be able to start the vetting process.
Princess Tessa:
Perhaps this is a discussion Prince Arthur and myself need to have in private.
Prince Arthur:
Agreed. We’ll take your advice under consideration and come back to you as soon as possible with an answer.
Princess Tessa stands and vomits into a bin. Prince Arthur calls an end to the meeting with no decisions on Item 3 of the agenda having been made.
***
ONE OF THE WORST THINGSabout being a member of the royal family is the way in which your private life is anything but private. Not just the media and public scrutiny, but the ‘stakeholders’ and advisers who must be consulted whenever major (and minor) decisions are to be made. As far as I can tell, regular folks enjoy complete autonomy over almost all of their choices, which is something people like me have never nor will ever experience.
Oh, and please don’t say, ‘But Arthur, are you really complaining about being a prince? Surely, you don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.’ I assure you, I’m not looking for sympathy—more like wanting to provide an in-depth understanding of what it means to be a royal. And more specifically, what it’s like to be a royal married to someone from the ‘normal’ world. It has its challenges. You see, it’s easy for me to forget that it’s unusual and often unwelcome for Tessa to have to invite a team of people to assist in personal decisions. I take all the formalities for granted, assuming she’ll ‘just know’ what the protocol is when the reality is, she doesn’t, and I can’t expect her to.
Tessa and I may have decided to have a baby, but beyond that original decision (and the fun of carrying out our plan), the rest becomes the subject of countless meetings with people whose opinions must be considered. Take our wedding, for example—it was a complete shock to Tessa how the ball got rolling and quickly slipped out of her grasp and down the hill at a furious pace. In the end, we managed to pull together the perfect day, one that suited us both rather beautifully, but that doesn’t mean every time something big happens this will be possible.
There’s a delicate balance required to allow Tessa to be herself within this strange world in which she now lives. That balance requires a husband who’s ever vigilant about the responsibilities and expectations placed upon her, as well as the fact that she won’t automatically know what those expectations are. And sometimes, when her husband is very tired because he can’t get a decent night’s sleep and his father has gone away so his work is piling up, he drops the ball.
Today is a perfect case in point. I should have had a conversation with Tessa about what to expect at the ‘Heir Preparedness Meeting’, but I completely forgot. And my failing led to an inability for us to present a united front—which is slightly embarrassing for both of us, not to mention infuriating for Tessa.
As soon as the meeting ended, I walked Tessa back to our apartment. I got her and Buckety settled on the couch, then I had to leave for a luncheon. Before I walked out the door, she said, “I think we’re going to have a lot to talk about when I’m feeling better.”
“I’m very sorry about today. I should have warned you about what the staff had in mind.”
“It’s not just about the meeting today,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “It’s about us raising a child together. I have a terrible feeling you and I aren’t going to agree on how to do it, and quite frankly, that’s much more terrifying than what just happened.”
Crouching down, I said, “No couple agrees one hundred percent on how to raise their children, but I promise you, together we’re going to nail this whole parenting thing. I’ll just have to do a better job of letting you know when a surprise is coming down the pipe.”
Tessa nodded, then said, “Yes, you will.”
Then she vomited, putting an end to the conversation.
By the time I got back that evening, she was fast asleep, so the whole nanny discussion will have to wait. But in the meantime, I’m left wondering how two such different people are going to manage to present a united front as parents to the world when we can’t even do it in a quick meeting.
***
“THIS IS GILES BIGLY, reporting live from outside Valcourt Palace with breaking news. About twenty minutes ago, palace officials posted an announcement on their website that Prince Arthur and Princess Tessa will be welcoming an heir to the throne early in the new year.”
Veronica Platt smiles into camera. “Very exciting news for all of Avonia, but less so for Princess Arabella, who will fall to third in line for the throne.”
Giles wrinkles up his nose. “I imagine Princess Arabella will welcome the news, as she is very close with both the Duke and Duchess of Wellingbourne.”
“Yes. I suppose so. But Giles, does this mean the palace’s earlier statement about the Duchess’s food poisoning was falsified?”
“They did address that on the blog post, Veronica, stating that what originally was believed to be food poisoning was actually an early case of morning sickness.”
“I see, so another shocking twist in the Vomitgate scandal.”
“I’m not sure I’d call it that. More like wonderful news for royal watchers everywhere. Palace officials say that although Princess Tessa is not feeling completely well yet, she is in good spirits, and she and Prince Arthur are positively over the moon with excitement about the baby.”
Veronica’s face grows intense. “Yes, but certainly the people of Avonia are entitled to the truth as to whether the palace knowingly fabricated the reason behind Vomitgate.”
“Or we could just celebrate the happy news for once and stop trying to make mountains out of mole hills.”
“Giles, it sounds like you’re suggesting we stop seeking the truth, which is the very cornerstone of journalism. If we do that, we’d turn ABNC from Avonia’s number one source for news to a royal fandom channel.”
“Would it, Veronica?” Giles asks, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, is a princess vomiting at a state dinner really a scandal in the first place? Aren’t we grasping at straws a little here to try to draw this out? Isn’t it possible—given how early she was in her pregnancy—that they didn’t know she was pregnant?”
Giles raises his voice with each question, his face turning increasingly red. “And even if they did know, would it be so awful of them to allow her a bit of privacy and autonomy with regards to announcing the news, so that if something should go wrong, she wouldn’t have to share such a private moment with the entire kingd—”
Giles’ half of the split screen goes black, then Veronica’s face fills the entire screen. “We seem to have lost the feed. We’re going to take a short break to hear from our sponsors. When we return, weatherman Quentin Filch will be here to tell us if this early summer heat wave is going to continue, or if we’re in for some cooler weather.”
