He nods.
“Um... hiking to the top of Brunelleschi’s dome at sunset in Florence, exploring the medieval structures of Toledo, and . . . I guess spending time studying the Roman aqueducts outside Rome.”
“I thought the Roman aqueducts would be number one on your list. You’ve been fascinated by them since you were a child,” he teases.
“You put me on the spot,” I poke back.
We share a laugh. “How was your meeting with the PM?”
Papa pinches his lips together. “About as fun as watching wet paint dry.”
I snort. “What did he want?”
“The PM is calling elections in six weeks. He’s urging me to postpone all previously planned engagements until then, including the state visit from the emperor and empress of Japan. He wants the public’s attention to be on the elections, not us.”
“I don’t understand.” I frown. “Does that mean Trooping the Colour and the Order of the Garter ceremony will be called off too?”
“No, those will still go on. There’re too many important guests and visiting dignitaries involved. It’s everything else that’ll have to be put on hold.”
What Papa doesn’t mention are the tourist dollars that’ll flood London’s economy for the week. The PM can’t have business owners angered with him. My jaw clenches. “In other words, all the causes that matter.”
Historically, we don’t involve ourselves in politics. It’s always been the family’s standard practice to go along with what the PM wants. I don’t understand why we should have to give up our visits to places like the children’s hospital so the PM can conduct dinner fundraisers. But then again, it’s Prime Minister Carrington, and he only cares about one person. Himself. He’ll do anything to stay in office even though his party is probably doomed.
“Let’s not let Prime Minister Carrington ruin our day. Why don’t you show me some trip photos. Then we’ll talk a little about what else you have planned for the rest of the summer before you start uni.”
I sit up taller. A few alarms start ringing in my head. There’s something I haven’t mentioned to my parents yet about where I plan to live come fall.
“Sure.” My voice wavers. “Where do you want to start?”
“Wherever you’d like.”
Later, after we’ve enjoyed some tea and mini Victorian sponge cakes—Papa’s favorite indulgence when Mum isn’t around—he brings up the one topic I’d hope we could avoid.
“I know you have your heart set on moving into your own flat, but what about the cottages at Kensington Palace? They’re much nicer than anything you’ll find around Imperial College. Not to mention you can move in whenever you’d like.”
“That’s generous of you, Papa, but moving into a Kensington cottage wouldn’t be much different than my current flat. I’ve always lived in a property owned by the crown. It’s time for me to have a place that’s mine.”
At present, I live inside one of the apartments at St. James’s Palace in the heart of Central London. It’s a beautiful, historical home that anyone would be lucky to call their own, but it’s always been intended to be a temporary base while I traveled during my gap year. I’ll be starting at Imperial College here in London in September, three months from now. It’s my plan to move into my own place by then.
Papa taps his fingers against the arm of the sofa. “So, we’re back to square one.”
“Afraid so.”
He sighs deeply.
“I don’t suppose you and Mum have reconsidered property locations?” I ask hopefully. My parents are being sticklers about the neighborhoods they’ll consider allowing me to move into.
“No. The furthest your mum and I will allow you to move is still Earl’s Court. We want you to be within a five-kilometer radius of school.”
His tone is firm—it’s going to be a challenge convincing him to change his mind. My chest grows tight. I’m running out of time. What he doesn’t know is that before I left, I bought a flat. But it’s not exactly in one of the neighborhoods he’ll approve of. I’m going to need help and a plan of attack before I approach him about it.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Enter,” Papa says.
The door opens, revealing his private secretary. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but there’s a call from the PM on line two.”
My father’s jaw clenches. “Tell him, I’ll be with him shortly.”
