Chapter Three: We Can’t All Be Princesses

  As soon as he stepped out, Elijah was assaulted by a strange woman in a black dress and white apron, blonde hair tied in a tight bun behind her head. The girl beamed up at him, her arms crossed behind her back, and, bowing, she kissed his hand, her garments swishing slightly.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty,” she told him. “The Queen has requested your presence: You are to eat with her in the grand dining room. May I lead you there?”

  Is that a maid? He thought.

  Yes, the Guide responded. One of my personal favorites, actually. Her name is Eveline, resembling the Queen’s, but I called her Eva, so you should do the same for now, and she’s a level 13 maid. Oh, you should respond to her before she assumes you’ve fallen asleep!

  “Um…” Elijah began, attempting to make his voice more feminine, but as the sound only ended up forced, he switched tactics and allowed it to flow freely, and that seemed to do the trick. “Good morning, Eva. Yes, please show me the way.”

  That was horrible, the Guide said. If you can’t tell, I’m rolling my metaphorical eyes right now. Maybe repeat my instructions next time.

  “That sounds great!” He exclaimed in relief.

  Not out loud! She told him exasperatedly.

  “Are you okay, your majesty?” The maid asked with concern, her eyes flitting up to stare at him, worry lines creasing her young face.

  “Yup, totally fine,” Elijah responded quickly. “Just hungry, that’s all.”

  Eva curtsied, smiled, and walked away at a brisk pace, her hips bucking up and down, dress swishing up to bare her legs with every step.

  Stop staring at her, idiot, Guide Amanda said. You are the Princess now; you shouldn’t ogle others. Also, you’re supposed to be following her. Ugh, this is going so well.

  Elijah winced, strolling with a slight limp, unused to the high heels he wore or the frilly dress, causing him to slip on the floor, shoes squeaking, before he controlled himself and ambled carefully after Eva, aware of how polished and slippery the floor seemed.

  “You told me I have a relationship bar for everyone who knows me. What does it look like with her?”

  You don’t need to speak to the air! Here it is.

  A glowing green box appeared above him, see-through yet solid, startling him, and on the top it read Eveline Cormallin. True to Guide Amanda’s words, there were three slides on it, one saying love, the second trust, and the final, authority, all key points to a monarch’s reign, according to the voice in his head.

  On the highest line, representing love, the small pointer was mostly towards the right side of the slide, the number 84 displayed above it. Trust, which was the second slide, was at an astounding 93. Authority was the most surprising one, staying at 98.

  Is this good? He wondered.

  Well, I worked on it for years, so it’s perfect. Don’t you dare ruin it for me, Amanda.

  The hallways of the palace were beautiful, elaborate, and somehow cozy, and the corridor was coated with a delicate, smooth, velvet carpet, colored in gold and patterned with never-ending spirals. The left side of the walls were lined with portraits—Elijah assumed they were ancestors—, and the right was filled with arching windows, providing a stunning view of the outside city, some open letting in the welcoming crisp air. He could see a garden, one that stretched for what seemed like forever, ornate flowers painting a pattern on the floor, the colors forming a dragon surrounded by flames.

  My family’s crest, or, I guess, your family’s crest now. The Dragon. Never forget it.

  Another maid passed as Eva led Elijah—Your name is Amanda, think that way!—to the grand dining room. She bowed at once, causing Elijah to smile awkwardly in response.

  “Here we are, Your Majesty: the grand dining room,” Eva curtsied, and opened the door, stretching her arm as an invitation for Elijah—AMANDA!—to step inside.

  Give her your gratitude, the Guide told him. But formally, or else it will sound unusual.

  “My thanks, Eveline,” he smiled at her, warmth filling his expression. The maid returned his smile and sashayed away, feet skipping in happiness.

  STOP STARING AT HER! Guide Amanda yelled, and covered his ears, groaning at the intensity of her shout.

  “Are you alright, my daughter?” A concerned voice arose inside the room.

  Oh no, that’s Mother. Enter the chamber and repeat after me: Hello, Mother. I am fine, just woke up with a strange headache. Bow on your way in, too, she is still your ruler.

  Mother? He thought. That word is so old-fashioned.

  You wish to do this on your own, Amanda?

  No, you’re right, my apologies.

  “Daughter?” The voice asked again.

  He stepped into the room and bowed as low as he could.

  “Hello, Mother. I am fine. I woke with a strange headache is all.”

  “You may rise,” the Queen said.

  Elijah looked up and stared at his new mother. The monarch, whose name he had forgotten—Evangeline!—appeared regal in her crown and gold dress, the swirling silk a slithering serpent on her garments. Her plain yet inviting and attractive face gave off a motherly commanding air, and she seemed ageless; if he wagered a guess, he would say she was in her mid-thirties, although she could be of any age.

  “I summoned you here because we have much to discuss,” the Queen told him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she scowled. “How did you lose your levels?”

  Guide Amanda cursed in his head.

  Damn, I feared this. As you will soon learn, the highest-ranking members of society have the ability to see the levels of others. You can, for example, as can Mother, but Eva cannot, as she is simply a maid. Her standing is not as strong as yours. Your levels shall always be more powerful and important in the hierarchy than any common Advantian citizen.

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  So what do I do? Elijah asked. What can I tell her that won’t make her suspect foul play?

  I don’t know, the Guide admitted. You must change the subject somehow.

  “Isn’t the sky beautiful?” Elijah blurted out and regretted it as soon as the Queen’s eyebrows rose in anger, her face flushing red.

  “What has happened to you, my daughter? Why will you not be honest with me?” Her voice reflected hurt, yet also ire, and he felt guilty for it, even though he still felt no attachment to her.

  Okay, repeat after me.

  “I apologize, Mother,” he obeyed. “I shall endeavor to be truthful. While I do not know how I lost my levels, I shall do everything in my power to return them to me.”

  “It would not do for the other kingdoms to see you weak like this, and this forces me in a bad position, but we have no choice!” The Queen exclaimed.

  “What do you mean?” The Guide told him to say.

  “Sit, eat,” Evangeline commanded. “We must talk.”

  With a feeling of dread in his gut—sorry, Amanda, that’s me—, Elijah sat down next to his mother, the chair squeaking as he pulled on it.

  There was plenty of food on the table, enough to fill dozens of people. Heaps of meat—beef, lamb, pork, even duck, cooked in several ways, some in which he had never seen—and sides of rice and potatoes set on the plates, plus some sort of fluffy bread, sliced to the exact millimeter, making his mouth water. There were jugs full of a red liquid that he hoped wasn’t what he thought it was.

  It’s wine, Guide Amanda provided helpfully.

  But I’m not old enough for that!

  His Guide laughed. Old enough? There’s only one person in charge of you now, and she has decided that you are allowed this drink, so who are you to decide otherwise?

  True, Elijah responded. Still don’t want to try it, though.

  Queen Evangeline was already helping herself to the food, her plate filled with the assortment of delicacies emanating a gamey smell that made even his mouth water.

  That’s a lot of food, the princess thought. How does she not get fat?

  Magic, his Guide said.

  Must be, he snorted inside.

  No, it’s true, his inward voice responded. The magicians here can cause her to slim down whenever she wants it, although even a monarch must pay the price for that. Pretty handy, yet I preferred to keep your body how it always is when I was you.

  Elijah nodded and filled his plate with a portion of duck and potatoes. He wasn’t too hungry, but he would eat for politeness and experience alone.

  “Wine?” The Queen asked him, pouring some without his permission. “This drink comes from the frozen grapes of Blodomruder, aged for a century and breathed in by the Karthans themselves.”

  Oh, you better not waste it, the Guide exclaimed. This is one of the most expensive ones!

  You must be kidding me, he responded, but took the goblet in his hand and poured a dribble into his mouth. The tangy tartness hit him when the juice touched his parched lips, and he almost gagged from reflex, but, forcing the alcohol down, he swallowed audibly. In his throat, the wine became pleasant, sweet, even fruity. He immediately craved more, reaching for his cup.

  Woah, hold on there. You shall not be seen drunk. Take it easy. That wine has high amounts of alcohol.

  I’m responsible, Elijah protested, downing his cup, and Guide Amanda snorted in derision.

  “Now,” Queen Evangeline said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, a simple move filled with grace, “We must talk of your schedule. As you already know, the next year will be full, barely allowing any downtime. It is a tempestuous age you have reached, and it shall teach you what real life is when you are older and rule this nation. I was sixteen when I became betrothed, and I trust that will happen with you too,” she finished with a knowing smile, winking at him.

  What does she mean? Elijah wondered, but the Guide just giggled.

  Oh, you’ll see. I can’t wait!

  “Today, Amanda, Thomas shall come over. You understand how to behave with him, so I shall leave you alone, but I tell you this: I approve of your relationship. I know you love him, Amanda, and am excited for your future with him.”

  You were dating someone named Thomas? He smiled mockingly.

  Well, actually, you’re dating someone named Thomas! Guide Amanda responded, laughing. Elijah’s face blanched.

  Oh, hell!

  “But that is not why I called you here,” Evangeline continued. “You see, the ódauelegur have been restless in recent times. To them, Stormhold is still theirs, and so I am forced into a rut now. I cannot give them Stormhold: our people have occupied it and handing it to the ódauelegur would have massive political implications, showing me as weak while also taking our people’s lands from them. But not gifting them the land could cause a war; they are short to anger, after all, and their patience is wearing paper thin.

  “Also, there is the matter of your coronation. You shall be officially pronounced as the first in line that day, and we must prepare ourselves for it, especially because of the dragon you will hatch.”

  I am so confused, Elijah thought. Dragon? ódauelegur? Thomas? What is any of this?

  You shall learn all of this alone, Guide Amanda replied, and he was sure that if she had a body, she would be shrugging. I can guide you through your daily life, but you must learn to also explore it yourself.

  But I have no idea what to do! I’m in a new world, I know nothing, and frankly, I’m a little scared. Is this what hyperventilation feels like? Elijah’s breath was fast, ragged, forced, his lungs felt compressed—a strange sensation—and the world was spinning around him; he tried to stand up, but a dizzying sensation in his head sent him reeling to the ground, vomiting on the floor. This is what hyperventilation feels like, isn’t it?

  Calm yourself, his Guide commanded him. I understand your fear and concern, but your previous life is gone. You cannot return to where you came from. You are not Elijah anymore; from here on out, you are a princess, the only princess of Advantia, Her Royal Highness Amanda Gold. You cannot let yourself get lost, so you must contain yourself. I will help you.

  Queen Evangeline bent down next to him and grabbed his lithe body.

  “Are you alright? You look unwell; I must get you to visit the doctor.”

  “I’m fine,” he responded. “Just need some rest is all. I had a rough night.”

  The Queen of Advantia nodded. “That is acceptable. I’ll need to see you in the council room tomorrow after lunch. Can you do that?”

  Elijah nodded. “I can, Mother.” He rose to leave, but his Guide objected in his head.

  You can’t leave without her explicit permission! She is your queen, after all!

  “May I leave to my room?” He asked.

  “You may,” Queen Evangeline responded. “I have much to do today. I shall see you later.”

  Sighing in relief, the new Princess—still a boy in his head—left the grand dining room, panic clawing its way up his throat, a bug that tore him inside out.

  Eva was waiting outside, her face showing impassive concern and curiosity.

  “May I lead you to your room, your majesty?” Her ever-smiling face beamed up at him again.

  “Yes, please, thank you.”

  After a couple of minutes down the winding hallways and staircases, they finally arrived back at Princess Amanda’s—Elijah’s—sleeping quarters.

  “Thank you so much, Eva,” he said, and she curtsied.

  “Anytime,” she responded. “Call my name if you need anything.”

  Elijah shut the door hurriedly.

  “I need to leave,” he groaned. “I can’t do this; it’s too much. I’m not a princess; I’m just a normal teenager.”

  He closed his eyes and blocked out all the Guide’s protests. He imagined his home, his school, his friends; they’d be alive when he got back, of course; the monster had been his imagination, a metaphor for his insecurities or something else as pathetic.

  But opening his eyes, he remained lying down on the floor in the room within Advantia’s castle—this new, unfamiliar universe.

  He was stuck where he was.