“Yes, thank you.”Our flight to and from Zurich was quite pleasant.
“Did your business negotiation go well?” she asks, keeping her eyes on Darrel even though the question is for me.
Over the years, I’ve grown so used to people cringing and refusing to look at my face that I’m no longer bothered. Honestly, I don’t care. It is my hope that one day soon I’ll reach a place of equanimity where my mind won’t even register it.
“Yes, it did,” I say.
“I’m delighted to hear that!” She accompanies us to the elevators, her eyes downcast. “Were you able to conclude the deal that Monsieur Dumas told me about?”
A pang of annoyance shoots through me at her second question. I know she’s just being friendly and solicitous, but her insistence forces me to tell untruths, which isn’t something I relish.
Darrel calls the elevator. I stare at the manager, in no hurry to answer her question.
This morning, I didn’t fly across the border into Switzerland to negotiate a business deal. I went there to lobby in my capacity as Mount Evor’s chief emissary and crown prince. Given that Uncle Richard, the current reigning prince, is childless and his younger brother—my father—died following a mysterious illness seven years ago, I’m the next in line. Unlike my younger brothers Arnaud and Max, and our youngest sister Gigi, I’ve never shunned the weight of that responsibility.
While my siblings enjoy their status, wealth and comforts, they also perceive their position as a cross to bear. Me, I see it as a custodianship rather than a burden. It is my life’s mission to look after our people and land. But also a chance to show Mother, Uncle, and everyone in the principality what I’m made of. Above all, it’s an opportunity to earn my subjects’ respect, since my physique precludes love.
With that in mind, I used this trip to perform some statesmanship.
Today, in Zurich, I had five back-to-back meetings with a variety of European royals, heads of government, influential ministers, and various businesspeople. The head of MINDFUCH and our representative in Paris is my cousin Celeste who also assisted me in my talks.
We’re good at rallying support and sympathy, and we’re very good to our allies. But with being a tiny landlocked principality hidden from the public, our alliances can be fragile. Put another way, our alliances are as strong as our allies’ pluck in the face of our powerful neighbors and as secure as their resistance to Kurt Ozzi’s incessant onslaught of corruption. Which isn’t very secure.
The elevator arrives.
I wish the manager a good day and step in with Darrel in tow. We ride to the top floor where I have a suite, and Darrel, Jordan, and Roberto have their rooms. We’ve also booked a room for Elise Pontet, should she choose to accept my offer.
As I open the door to my suite, Darrel checks the time. “If Elise Pontet says yes and I pick her up, would you like to have a bite before?”
“No, thank you. The business lunch I had with the Scandinavian royals was copious enough to last me a few more hours.”
“Very well.”
I survey him. “What about you? Did you have something to eat at lunch? Are you hungry?”
“I had two sandwiches while waiting.” He steps in after me. “I’m good.”
“After I call her, you can order room service for the three of us before you leave to fetch her.”
“Perfect.” He shuts the door behind us.
I gesture toward the salon. “I’m assuming you swept it for bugs after the cleaning crew?”
“Roberto did it while we were in Zurich.”
“And?”
“Nothing to report.”
“See you back here in an hour.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After Darrel retreats to his room, I take a shower and shave my face and skull. It’s a pain to have to shave twice a day, but my scars make it a necessity. My facial and body hair grows through some of the scar tissue where the follicles weren’t completely destroyed and leaves other areas bald. The result isn’t pretty.
Why does it matter?
I do wonder sometimes, because shaving barely moves the needle on my “prettiness.” The answer, I suppose, is what makes me work out daily and dress with the utmost care. When beauty is gone, what’s left to a human being—royal or otherwise—is dignity.
