Blessed

"When can we expect you to return, then?" my father asks. "Give me a date."

I don't want to give him a date. I don't want to go home. I want to switch off my phone and roll over for another hour’s sleep. I want to forget that Elanda exists. What would my life be like if I got a job with my MBA, right here, in Manhattan? What would my life be like if I could create my own destiny, make my own money? Live my own life?

"You must come home. This is not a request."

"It’s an order," I say with a sigh. "I know."

"Your mother misses you, too," my father adds.

Right. I had been taken to my parents one hour a day for viewing since I could remember. When I was older, I was homeschooled and sometimes my father would sit in the classes to ensure that the tutor was teaching me the right things. When I was fourteen, I was shipped off to study abroad, and I’ve been here ever since, studying as many broads as possible. The only time I go back home is for Christmas or national festivals.

That is the extent of the relationship with my parents.

Why do I have to care about a country when the country probably doesn't care about me? I'm just another face, another name. Why would I respect my parents when they don't invest time in me, only money?

"Why are you so against being king?" my father asks.

"Because I don’t want to be paraded around without a choice."

"Son, listen to me, now. This is your divine right. You have been born into a royal bloodline so you may lead El

anda into a bright and glorious future. It's a privilege, as much as it is a burden. You can’t refuse something that is yours by birth."

"What if I want to abdicate my throne?" I ask. "Do you know how many countries are democracies now? A hundred and twenty-three. Out of almost two hundred. Why are we still stuck in the past?"

My dad clears his throat. He's upset. He can be intimidating when he's upset, but I don't have to face him. Over the phone there is nothing he can do to me.

"Don’t you toy with me," he says. "I don’t have to argue with you to get you to do something. You are to come home immediately and take your place as the rightful future king. You'll reign as I have taught you, and you'll be happy with your fate."

I take a deep breath and keep everything I want to say to that inside. It isn't worth the fight.

"What if I don’t come back?" I ask. "What if I decide that it’s not what I’m interested in? What if I don’t want to be the prince anymore? I want to abdicate."

"That’s not an option."

I shake my head. "You can’t make me come back."

"You’re right," my father says and for a moment the fight leaves me. Is he agreeing?

"But I can freeze your accounts and remove all your privileges. I can make life very hard for you."

This is true. Dreaming about earning my own money one day is one thing, but losing it all, now? My apartment alone costs more than the average person’s salary.

He isn't going to let me get away with this. I don't have any choice. This is my life, and no matter what I do, I won't be able to escape it.

I take a deep breath.

"Give me thirty days," I say. "I want one month to say goodbye and finalize everything here."

"You’ll come back, then? After thirty days, without argument?"

"I will."

Thirty days isn't much time, but it's better than having to leave tomorrow.

"Thirty days, then," my father says. "One month, and then I’m sending your plane for you."

"Can’t I travel on a normal airline?"