His Royal Highness
If a little kid ever accidentally stumbled into the Underground, it would shatter her world. It’s a gritty underbelly compared to the land of make-believe that exists atop Castle Drive. Down here, fairies walk around in hairnets. Bears walk around in their jumpsuits with their headpieces tucked under their arms. Maintenance men honk the horns on their golf carts, angry if anyone happens to stray into their path. I once stumbled upon a huntsman from the Enchanted Forest getting it on with a smith’s apprentice from Castle Drive. So yeah, no one is allowed down here without an employee badge or a microchipped costume.
Julie swipes her badge and we gain entrance to a shallow set of stairs that open up directly into the hearth of the great room inside Elena’s Castle.
On a normal day, I’m excited for my shift.
Today, the hours stretch out before me in a never-ending sea of children. I’m counting down the minutes until I can leave here and hunt down Carrie for more information. She might as well have thrown a grenade at me in that dressing room. Even now, it’s sitting on the ground near my feet…
Ticking.Chapter FiveDerekAccepting my new role as His Royal Highness feels a lot like walking through the five stages of grief. Denial comes first, and it lasts exactly the length of time it takes me to get from Cal’s penthouse to my new apartment in exec housing. I smile to myself and think, That Cal, what a trip. He really pulled one over on me this time. Working In Character in the park? Hilarious. Then I realize, no. Cal is sincere.
He expects me to agree.
That realization gives way to anger—a healthy dose of it. It’s not that I think I’m above the task. Work is work. It’s an honest job just like everything else. Coming from the board, though, it feels like a slap in the face. They know how hard I’ve worked the last decade. They know it’s insulting to suggest I might not have earned the position as Director of Operations.
I go to sleep fuming and wake up only a few hours later, kicking off my sheets. My run is so abusive, the treadmill sighs with relief when I step off of it. Over coffee, I fantasize about forwarding my CV to our board members—a way of throwing my experience in their faces—and then creating a middle finger out of keyboard characters to go along with it. Once my coffee kicks in, I realize that option lacks tact. I can do better.
Leaving the Knightley Company is another possibility. Going to work for a competitor would certainly sting, but there’s no way I could go through with it. I don’t have the heart for revenge and I would never do that to Cal.
Bargaining blends with depression as I drag myself to the Costuming Department later in the morning. I’ve been here thousands of times before, but never under these circumstances—never for a fitting.
I barely smile at Patty, the receptionist. She’s been here so long, she knew my late grandmother. On another day, I’d stop and hug her, ask her how she’s doing. Today, I keep walking down the hall after a polite nod.
My grandfather is nuts, the kook everyone assumes he is. My entire life, I’ve looked up to him as a genius, but now that he thinks I should take a role as His Royal Highness, I actually think he might just be insane.
The thought sours.
He’s not insane.
Just…wrong.
I’m greeted by the Head of Costuming, who ushers me into a room where a tailor and his assistant are waiting.
While measurements are taken, the tailor only speaks to call out numbers, but his assistant fills in the gaps for him with answers to questions I didn’t ask.
“You’ll love working in Elena’s Castle. You’ll be with Whitney. God, she’s been in that role for years, hasn’t she, Hank?”
The tailor nods, reports the length from my hip to my ankle, and then separates my legs so he can get my inseam. It’s a pleasant experience for no one.
“I don’t think anyone is more dedicated to their post than Whitney. You know she’s won employee of the month more than anyone else here?” I didn’t know, but the assistant doesn’t give me time to respond. “Some people think she’s a little over the top, like we get it, you love working here, but Whitney sees the real magic in this place.”
I’ll admit, Whitney hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind in the last twelve hours. I’ve been a little preoccupied with the grieving process.
“You two will make a perfect pair. Ryan’s working alongside her now, but you were born to play His Royal Highness. You have the exact right coloring. The build too.”
It’s not a coincidence. Cal imagined the character with my father in mind. I’m his spitting image. I have a bone to pick with Cal, though, because His Royal Highness deserves a name. In the original story, Elena’s love interest is just His Royal Highness. I never cared much about that before. Now, it grates my nerves. It’s like he’s completely auxiliary to the main plot of the story. He’s just some guy. Y’know, the prince or whatever. Who cares?