Finals week—er, weeks actually. 2 weeks of pure torture. Here in East Creek we call them ‘the trials’ because the teachers literally treat finals like it’s some kind of Greek Mythological quest.

But that isn’t the only kind of trial going on right now.

My uncle—the evil one, of course—is finally going on trial for his crimes. His face is plastered all over the media, from CNN to HLN and even my local Channel 4 News. He’s finally sitting there in a courtroom in the federal courthouse in Seraphim, the capitol of Chirnova. His buddies that attempted to assassinate Ben and Victor are currently in St. Agnes, the capitol of Vladesvya at that federal courthouse being put on trial as well.

Me, Ash, Ave, Sami and Mel are sitting here on my bedroom floor watching it all unfold while trying to study for finals, while the rest of my family watches from downstairs in the living room. Things have been pretty tense for a Sunday evening so far.

It’s already Monday in Vladesvya and Chirnova and these trials started early. Christiane Amanpour is in front of the Chirnovian federal court right now, explaining what’s going to happen over the next few weeks and months following this first court date.

“The disposed King of Chirnova will go through hundreds of hours if not thousands of interrogation by the federal prosecutor’s team along with his own defense team. It’s  a wonder anyone stepped up to defend this man in the first place, but it’s even more shocking to learn that the defense team that is taking on his case is from another country and from a private firm. Since he has virtually no income left his wife’s family has actually stepped up to pay for the team—although, that may prove to be a fruitless venture anyway. The general notion over here is that the people of both these small European nations want him dead or confined for the rest of his life.”

“Dead sounds much better to me,” I mumble harshly. 

Ashlyn sets a hand on my shoulder and gives a good squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’m sure if that prosecution team isn’t enough then the public pressure sure will be to send him for lethal injection.”

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I say, “We don’t use injection.”

“What? What do you hang people?” Sami asks in horror.

I feel slightly uncomfortable as I state, “We’re like Belarus. We shoot them. Execution style. Sometimes there’s a whole firing squad.”

They stare back at me in horror for a terribly long time. I wince and keep watching while they let that sink in. Honestly, it isn’t a big deal to Chirnovians and Vladesvyans since we rarely use it. We’re following in the footsteps of Sweden and Norway by rehabilitating people as much as possible. Only the worst killers still get shot to death. Take for instance the leader of the terrorist group that organized the bombings back in February at the train station and near the statue in the center of Seraphim; the man who killed over a hundred people. He was just executed last week. Now it’s their turn. 

It sounds horrible. But, when you take into account that my uncle killed his own brother—a King nonetheless—and his sister in law; then attempted to kill his niece, other brother and other brother’s family… well, I don’t want to be that person to say he deserves it but… he deserves it. He nearly wiped out the entire royal family of Chirnova. And his buddies? They deserve the strictest punishment as well.

“That’s… hardcore,” Avery utters, “very Eastern European—almost Russian.”

I nod, “yeah my people aren’t exactly fond of people who kill their royals. Dmitry is headed full-speed towards that execution chamber, I’ll tell you that much.”

Anderson Cooper, who is in Vladesvya as we speak, decides to interrupt me just as I’m about to add something else to that statement, and every turns to the television screen to see what the latest development is.

“And we’ve just received word that the King and Crown Prince are, in fact, in the court room with their alleged attempted assassins. Of course, we cannot get live feed of that, but our sources state that they are there,” Anderson suddenly says after an aide runs in and out of the shot. “I can’t imagine how they must be feeling right now—and not just them but the entire royal family, and the entire nation.”

“No, Anderson you can’t possibly understand,” I quip angrily. 

Ash gives my shoulder one more squeeze before saying, “Don’t pay attention to the media, An. It’s only going to make you more upset.”

“I know… just keep it on this channel. I don’t feel like watching my—.” I stop myself short of saying the ‘U’ word. I’ve been trying to distance myself from him. “Uh, Dmitry.”

Mel points out, “A King is being accused of killing his brother, sister in-law and attempting to murder his niece. Yeah, I think we all know which story is going to be in the news non-stop for a while now. We may have to keep switching channels.”

“But just think,” Sami says brightly, “A couple months from now the news will be so obsessed with the olympics and your wedding they’ll completely forget about these two cases.”

As I open my mouth to say something in response, the door to my room creaks open. Gabe’s head pops in and so does his arm. In his hand he holds a magazine, though I can’t see which one from this far away. I can tell it’s a tabloid from it’s square shape.

“I thought you might wanna take a look at this. Kassy brought it over—she’s getting settled in downstairs, by the way,” he says, throwing the magazine across the room.

I miss it by an inch, scrambling to pick it up—but Sami beats me to it. She reads aloud, “Crown Prince Caught Chatting Up Ex-Flame, Lady Alissa Vasilovich.”

The noise that leaves my mouth is something between a dying whale and an angry cow. “Oh god.”

She further opens up to the page where there’s a full piece on their encounter, and reads some of that bullshit as well. 

“The Crown Prince was spotted at the Voscovich Derby this past Wednesday, chatting up with old friends and countless family members. Of all the new people spotted in the Royal Box, including Crown Princess AnnaMaria’s relatives who recently came out of their hiding in Switzerland, the most talked about guest was The Honorable Lady Alissa Vasilovich. The ex-flame of the Crown Prince appeared to be in good spirits as she greeted the man she once talked about marrying. Nothing seems to have changed between the two, and one close friend of Lady Alissa says that ‘they’re still really good friends’. No word yet on how the Crown Prince’s fiancé is taking this latest interaction.”

And that’s when Sami pauses and looks up at us. “I don’t like her and I don’t even know her.”

“That’s what I said to Ben—he can’t stand her either; she cheated on him with one of his old aristocratic friends and attempted to cheat on him with his own cousin. That’s the actual reason why their relationship ended a few months before he showed up to meet me. It wasn’t just because he knew he was going to marry me,” I explain. “Then, a couple of days ago he said… he said she sent him a text saying that ‘she would be the Camilla to his Charles anytime’ or something like that.”

Avery is the only one that gasps. Ash simply says, “Well, then we can be the paparazzi that make her life a living hell. You need to get her before she gets you.”

“But she won’t get me,” I laugh it off. “Ben and I have a good relationship.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

My brow creases and heat swells in my face. “What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? He would never do that to me. I’m not Diana.”

Avery comments, “It can happen to the best of us, Ann.”

I don’t realize I’m getting defensive until I say, “Ben is not Josh, Avery.”

She sighs, rolls her eyes and replies, “Every guy has the potential to become a Josh.”

I get increasingly annoyed when they begin discussing what they’re going to do to take care of this matter. I finally interrupt and state, “She and her family are getting D-List invitations to the wedding and they won’t be invited to the reception. That alone is enough to send the message to them from me.”

“Yeah but you need to do something that says ’stay away from my fiancé or I’ll choke you with my tiara,” Mel smirks. “You know, like actually saying that to her when you see her next.”

“Mel!” I scold jokingly. “Do you know how much trouble that would get me in? No, I won’t give the press the satisfaction of a cat-fight.”

We go back and forth for a good half an hour about what should be done about this ‘ex-flame’ and by the time we reach a conclusion I have a headache. 

The conclusion? Don’t invite her or her parents to the wedding. That will definitely send a message, and I’m sure Ben will agree. Not getting an invite to our wedding ceremony of close to 7,000 people—not including some 1,000 that will be squished, standing up against walls and in corridors; that’s a huge insult to their pride. Royals and blue bloods take attending weddings, anniversaries, confirmations, communions and baptisms very seriously.

But I can’t help but be a little… uneasy. If this girl is really determined to get Ben back who knows what she’ll do. I have a feeling she’s the kind to do almost anything. And even though I feel confident in Ben’s ability to say no and prevent another royal scandal, I feel very nervous about her.

However, I don’t let the girls know that. I keep it to myself and we skip to more conversational topics, like the wedding and the honeymoon. The olympics are also a hot topic with the girls ever since I told them I would get to meet royals and olympians. I think it’s the olympians I’m most excited about, though.

“Hey can you get Prince William’s autograph for me?” Mel asks jokingly. At least… I think it’s a joke. I hope it is.

Brushing it off with laughter I say, “No, Mel royals don’t do autographs.”

“How about a picture?”

“You’ll see one in US Weekly.” 

Bursting out with laughter, the girls give me thumbs up for my latest royal pun. It seems becoming royal has only served to increase the amount of sarcasm and wit that comes out of my mouth. And for that, I’m grateful. Thinking fast and smart is ideal when talking to journalists and reporters. But it’s also good for just life in general; especially life at school. These last few weeks are going to be… interesting.

“How many people from town are you inviting to the wedding by the way—or should I ask, who?” Ash asks, flipping through her index cards for the hundredth time tonight.

I shrug, “Just close friends… Madeline, Bailey—hell, even Tom I mean he did give me my first job.”

After a slight pause Sami says, “It’s going to be so weird.”

“Weird how?” Avery asks.

“Well… I mean… I… I’m not trying to sound judgmental but…” She lets out a huge sigh and finally spits it all out. “It’s going to be weird going off to college while you’re off, already married and working full time and… I don’t know it’s just strange to me.”

“Oh, don’t go all ‘Merica on me now,” I joke lightly. In all seriousness I tell her, “I get called weird and even inbred by Hannity and O’Reilly, I don’t need it from you guys.”

“No, no, no we don’t mean it like that,” Ash waves me off. “It’s just weird because… ok I don’t really know it’s just weird.”

“See? There you go with the ‘weird’ again!” I try to sound as humorous as possible but they sense my annoyance.

Mel assures me, “You know we don’t mean it in a bad way, we’re just trying to get used to the fact that our best friend is getting married at eighteen and moving half way across the world.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s just strange for me too,” I admit. “I can’t believe I’m leaving for good after graduation.”

Everyone seems to mull that over for quite some time.

Ashlyn finally just says, “We’re going to miss you a lot.”

_____________________________________________________________

The flashing of cameras is blinding as we walk into the courthouse. On either side of the steps are hoards of journalists shouting at us. It’s a normal thing for us, but usually the photographers are more subdued. Today they’re ravenous.

And on top of this, I woke up this morning to Oleg showing me magazines with me and Alissa slathered across the middle pages. Articles about our ‘mutual friendship’ have been exploding across the internet and sending Anna into a fit of rage. Literally. I received a five balloon rant about it ten minutes ago in the car. She’s livid and I’m afraid if she encounters Alissa once more she’ll end up knocking a hat off or stepping on a high heel. 

I trust her not to cause any more chaos, but I don’t know if she trusts me as well. Her texts were vague at best in regards to whether she trusted me around Alissa or not. Instead of ‘yes’ I got ‘I trust you won’t make the same mistake other royals have’ and ‘I know you’re not that kind of guy’. There was no straight-forward ‘yes I trust you’ statement. That’s left me stewing in anxiety, in my seat next to dad in this stuffy courtroom.

I try to pay attention as the first day carries on. This and the final sentencing is the only day we’ll be attending, so we need to make it count. Next time we’re here Anna will also be here and we’ll hopefully be listening to a ‘guilty’ verdict.

When the defendants go one by one onto the stand, I make sure to stare at them. I make sure my eyes never falter and I don’t fidget. Everything that my advisors said not to do, I’m not doing. I’ll listen to them this time. I bet they’re shocked I’m taking their advice for once.

I’m just thankful that my appearance here is something to wash over the hype about me and Alissa. Everyone has been waiting to photograph my reaction to seeing these guys.

I’m determined to keep myself together; the picture perfect Prince—brave, noble and humble. I won’t say a word, but I won’t let my facial expressions give anything away either. Dad has taught me well. 

“Something tells me they’ll be headed straight to Death Row just like their leader,” dad whispers lowly.

Leaning in close, I reply just as lowly, “You know they used to behead traitors to the crown back in the old days.”

“Unfortunately the United Nations wouldn’t like that,” he mumbles. “They’re already pushing us to adopt the Lethal Injection instead of the shooting method.”

“I don’t care,” I tell him, “As long as they’re in prison for the rest of their lives or dead.”

My chest still aches when I move the wrong way. It’s extremely painful in bad weather, and I’m practically living on ibuprofen. They didn’t succeed in killing me or my father, but they did hurt us. 

Dad walks with a cane around the palace, but suffers through the pain in public. No one but his doctor and close relatives know about how that day screwed up his already ailing left leg. The damage he did to it in a hockey game when he was my age was exacerbated by the blow he took by one of the security guards when they slammed us to the ground.

And we’ll never let them know, but they’ve scarred the rest of our families as well. Even our extended relatives are nervous now. The Swedes and Norwegians bumped up their security after an increase in threats, and so did the Danes. The entire royal world in Europe and beyond saw what happened to me, to Anna, to my father. Now they’re terrified the same thing will happen to them. They’ve always known it’s likely, but now the reality has begun to set in. They need to do more to make people like them or they might be the next ones being shot at.

“Has she answered you yet?” Dad asks as we exit the courtroom for an intermission. He knows about the tabloid photos and my texting conversation with Anna.

I shake my head, “No. She didn’t give me a straight answer in the first place, why should I expect a direct answer now?”

“I know she trusts you, Ben,” he reassures me—or, tries to.

Biting into my cheek nervously, I ask, “Then why won’t she just give a straight forward ‘I trust you’ answer?”

With a sigh he replies, “Every woman on Earth would probably be reacting this way to a scandal like this. She’s afraid, Ben. It’s that… thing she doesn’t trust, not you.”

After a pause of silence he clears his throat quietly. “I believe you are smart enough to not make the same mistake our dear British cousins did. You’ve become the man your mother always wanted you to be. Stay like that, and Anna will trust you no matter what.”

“I just want to hear her say it.”

“Say what, Ben?” He asks, sounding rather annoyed with me.

“I trust you completely.”

_____________________________________________________________

*to the right is a picture of Ben & Anna's royal cyphers :) I drew them myself!*

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading my latest chapter! :) all feedback is very appreciated, as always and votes are pretty awesome too. I haven’t edited this completely yet. Of course, if you’ve been reading my story you know that I’m constantly going back and editing even if the chapter is perfectly fine. I’m never content with my chapters lol

Be sure to vote & comment and let me know what you think! I always take your opinions and comments into consideration when writing future chapters. 

Thanks again for reading! x   -Nicci