11

                                    

                                          


                          
"Philip?" I called out to an empty dark room from the comfort of my bed.
                          
"It's me." He reassured. I could barely make him out in the dark but I relaxed at the sound of his voice feeling more at ease. "I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep again."
                          
I made way for him on my bed and he slipped in. I curled up against him, a thousand questions on my tongue but he drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
                          
The thud of his heartbeat slowed and he felt so peacefully asleep. I didn't move in the bed, letting the sound of his heartbeat and the warm arm on my back lure me into sleep. It's almost effortless, following whatever path he went on in his sleep. 
                          
It's the comfort of his very warm body in the same bed, the way his arm curled around me, drawing me closer in his sleep, it's the soft sounds of his breath, the reassuring feeling his presence brought in a room, but it wasn't enough to erase the panic in my throat.
                          
Two days left.
                          
Two days before I was engaged.
                          
A large heirloom, his grandmother's wedding ring to be exact, one that has been passed down from royal to royal to now, pauper. 
                          
I didn't want this. I wanted the surprise that followed a normal relationship. I wanted the hinting to my boyfriend to get me a ring, I wanted to have the most real romantic dinner or walk with my real non-prince boyfriend. I wanted to admire a view, and turn around and be shocked at the sight of my boyfriend on his knee, though the both of us would secretly know it was a long time coming. 
                          
I wanted a normal relationship, one that wasn't expected. I didn't want my life, my fake dates planned out for me and also a fake engagement where I had to pretend to be genuinely surprised. I wanted a real surprise, I wanted to marry the man I loved. 
                          
I wanted to feel what love was.
                          
Had things been different, perhaps the sleeping figure beside me could be a person I could fall for. It was easy. My tourist, the warm, affectionate one who threw sand at me and hugged me when he was sticky with saltwater. 
                          
He was a whole different person here, he slipped in effortlessly into this role he had, just like our successful date on a speedboat, it frightened me how effortless that change was. Philip was the master actor. I fumbled, from the start throughout this whole thing. It made me wonder how many relationships has he acted in. 
                          
I couldn't follow his warm figure into sleep. With that realisation that it was impossible for me to sleep. I slipped out of the bed careful not to wake him. He barely registered I'd moved out. I stop for a minute to glance at his soft face. My heart flutters. He really looked like the tourist I'd begun to like in that moment, lost in sleep. Forcing myself off the bed wasn't easy but I needed some answers. I walked to the door, a little surprised to find two of Philips guards there.
                          
"Um, hello," I greeted.
                          
One of the guards looked at me, not at all surprised. "Evening," he replied gruffly. Were they always there? I wondered uncomfortable. What did they think we were doing?
                          
I stepped outside playing with the thread at the bottom of the silky pajama top I wore. "Is there a computer anywhere here?"
                          
The guard glanced at his friend who groaned, "I'll show you the computer," he said reluctantly. He began walking down the corridor, stopping to check if I was following. I scampered after him, following his strides with a bit of difficulty in the dark.
                          
The castle was dimly lit, and felt spookier at night. The guard was silent, hardly speaking as he led me to an empty room. Inside it looked like an empty bedroom, it was smaller than my room but there was a computer resting on the desk. I went to the computer, turning it on and watching it start up. In the reflection of the screen, I could see Philip's guards watching me.
                          
It made me feel more uncomfortable. I'd never realised how much privacy would cost.
                          
As the computer loaded up, I changed the screen brightness to the lowest it could go before googling, Prince Philip Romances.
                          
The browser loaded and I scrolled through the search results, the latest one was about me. Someone found out I was Irish and it lead to a whole stream of news. The Queen had also leaked about our romance. 
                          
Curiosity gnawed on me, so I clicked on that.
                          
Prince Philip's Mystery Romance revealed. The headline wrote. I glanced at the article, noticing that the romance was nearly completely fabricated. Philip and I met on the beach, but no, it wasn't as innocent as the Queen played out.
                          
A Royal Representative said Philip was Alana's first love and she knew it was meant to be. She also didn't know who the Prince was when they met. 
                          
I frowned, I haven't been in love, but it was an exaggeration. I wondered what my two best friends thought. I wasn't too hard to recognise from the pictures.
                          
"You shouldn't be reading that," a sleepy familiar voice said his accent thicker in sleep.
                          
I didn't bother turning around. "I probably shouldn't. I was curious." I hesitated, "do you read them?"
                          
"Sometimes."
                          
I was afraid he'd look at the browser, so I closed the tab, hoping he didn't check the search history. "Why?"
                          
"I want to know what they say about me, sometimes it boosts my ego, and sometimes it doesn't."
                          
I turned off the computer, "I don't feel any confident," I admitted, "I feel fake."
                          
"You'll get used to it," Philip told me holding me by the crook of my back and leading me back to my bedroom. It didn't sound reassuring...at all.
                          
"What do you mean, I'll get used to it?" I stopped moving, standing in the barely lit hallways with his two guards behind us. 
                          
"You just will, you're going to be the Princess of Greece soon, Alana and in a few more years with the help of my mother, you will rule by my side." Philip let out a breath, "it isn't easy, no one ever said it was and I'll help ease your workload too, Alana."
                          
"Philip," I felt panic in my throat, Rule a country? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I could feel a barely sort myself out as it is. I was only 21. No way ready for marriage much less ruling a country-
                          
"Alana," he wrapped his arm around me as I held on to his shirt feeling like I just ran into an examination in my lingerie. There was no way to prepare me, far from the royal line as a commoner could possibly be into a future Queen. "Breathe, it's okay, I'll take care of you." 
                          
"I can't do that Philip," I breathed out, "I can't."
                          
"You can, Alana, you're a strong woman."
                          
I wanted his confidence, I wanted him like this, so warm and reassuring. I held on to him, tightly trying to breathe and ease the sudden weight on my shoulders. No wonder he looked so heavy if this was the fraction of the weight he carried beneath that crown. 
                          
He'd been groomed for this role, the slip was possibly effortless and along the way he lost parts of himself for the country he was about to rule. He would make a wise ruler and I wished desperately that I wasn't adding to his burden on his already heavy shoulders.