“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?”
“Yes.” His hand reaches up to adjust his glasses—and it’s trembling. “I just received a call from the palace, Your Highness, with troubling news. The plane carrying the Prince and Princess of Wessco has . . . disappeared.”
It takes a moment for my brain to absorb the words.
“Disappeared? What does that mean?”
“We don’t know. It could be a malfunction in the plane’s tracking system. They’ve been unable to contact them, however, and they were scheduled to land some time ago but have not.”
A chill runs through me, my skin growing cold as my palms start to sweat.
“You and Prince Henry are to return to the palace immediately.”
Words echo in my head. My father’s smooth, steady voice when he and Mum came up to visit before leaving for their trip to New York.
Look after your brother. He needs you.
“They’ve tried to keep the news under wraps, but it’s beginning to leak out.”
I stand.
“Where is my brother?”
“He’s at recess in the courtyard. I was just about to—”
I don’t bother with explanations or goodbyes. I exit the building, not running, but walking in long, purposeful strides. There’s a crowd in the courtyard. A moving mass of dark-blue uniforms—and I know immediately that Henry is in the middle of it.
I push my way through before security can clear a path. In the center of the circle, Henry’s blond head is pushing into the chest of a bigger, older, uglier, boy. Their hands grasp each other’s jackets, tugging and tearing, fists punching.
The larger boy calls Henry a little shit and a red haze tinges my vision. I grip his arm—yanking him away, just as security gets there and separates them. Henry is panting hard, his cheeks red, his damp hair stuck to his forehead.
“Liar! Tell them he’s a liar, Nicholas! He said Mum and Dad are dead.”
“He’s a liar,” I say automatically. “We don’t know anything yet.”
I put my hand on Henry’s shoulder.
“The Queen has called us back to the palace.” My eyes meet the gaze of the dark suit closest to my brother. “Take him to the car. I’ll be along in a moment.”
After Henry is removed from the circle, the crowd goes quiet. Waiting and watching . . . always watching. I adjust my cuffs and turn back to the older boy.
And I slap him with the back of my hand.
A succession of gasps ripple around us, but then there’s nothing.
There’s no response from the boy before me—he just stands there with my handprint blooming crimson on his cheek.
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “You only pummel boys half your size?”
“It wasn’t my fault! I was only telling the others what I saw online. He started it.”
I smack him again.
“And I’m finishing it.”
I grip his collar, leaning into his face—my voice sharp and soft.
“If you ever put your hands on my brother again, I will have the men hold you down and cut them off. Do you understand me?”
He swallows. “Yes.”
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes . . . Your Highness.”
I glare into his eyes for one beat longer.
“Good.”
As I walk away I pull a handkerchief from my pocket, wiping the hand that made contact with his skin.
At the car, a security guard holds the door for me, but before I get in I hear my name.
“Nicholas!”
I turn and Ezzy slams into my chest—wrapping her arms around me and hugging me hard. Simon stands beside her.
“What’s happening, Nicholas? The things they’re saying . . .”
Things are always being said about us. Silly, hurtful, ridiculous things.
But this . . . this is different.
“I don’t know. But I think . . .” I choke on the words, to the only two people on earth I can admit them to. “I think it’s really bad.”
Ezzy releases me from her embrace.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“You have exams. Your parents . . .”
“I don’t care about bloody exams. And my parents don’t give a damn where I am, as long as it’s not with them.”
“I’ll ring you when I know more.”
She nods, and then she’s hugging me again—fiercely. And Simon puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I’m lucky in that respect, to have two true friends. My brother doesn’t have that . . . he only has me.
They step back and I climb into the car beside Henry.
And they take us home.
Three days later, the Queen summons me to her office. It’s early, the sky still a dull, ashy gray. But there are guards and servants about, because even though the palace feels like the loneliest place on earth, you’re never really alone.
As I stand outside the royal office my feet feel heavy, as if they want me to stay right here, rooted to this place and time. Because beyond this gilded door lies something awful.
But then it’s too late. The secretary opens the door and I have no choice but to step inside.