1

Fenburg Times

As your plane soars toward the gently rolling Gallatin foothills, cold wind whips around you. You nestle in your seat, pulling a scarf up over your face.

"I'm bringing us down for dinner and refueling, Your Highness!" yells Asher from the pilot's seat ahead of you. "Brace yourself! I hope it's not too bumpy for you!"

Asher's been your bodyguard since you were small, and was the obvious choice to accompany you on this journey. Even bundled up in a scarf and flying cap, as Asher raises a hand to give you a brief salute, you can easily picture bright blue eyes and their earnest smile. Their expressions are as familiar as those of your own family.

The Garnetts have been in service to the royalty of Westerlin for generations. Asher's father guarded your elder sister, and as soon as Asher was old enough to handle a sword and pistol, they were assigned to you.

And so they have come with you to Archambault Academy, the country's most prestigious boarding school. Even if their flying leaves something to be desired.

The engine judders. Is something wrong?

Next

Wind bites around your ears as the airplane jolts.

"Sorry!" Asher shouts.

It's hard to tell whether Asher hears you over the wind and the noise of the engine. Maybe that's a good thing. In this situation, getting distracted will only put them in a literal tailspin.

As they recover, the engine grows smoother. You fly down at a light incline, descending gently in slow circles through the clouds. A smooth lake comes into view, its vast expanse undisturbed at this distance; as you grow closer, you spot small buildings clustered beside the water.

The plane gently touches down.

Next

Sheep in the next field glance up with incurious gazes as you grind to a halt. Asher hops out of the cockpit, grabs the supply satchel and holds out their arms to help you out of your seat.

"Would you like a hand?" they ask diffidently.

Sheep in the next field glance up with incurious gazes as you grind to a halt. Asher hops out of the cockpit, grabs the supply satchel and holds out their arms to help you out of your seat.

"Would you like a hand?" they ask diffidently.

Barely a breeze disturbs the early evening sunshine, though you feel a faint bite in the air. This close to the mountains, fall is colder than in Fenburg, the capital. Without the rumble of the airplane engine around you, the open air feels strange.

Eighteen years old, and attending Archambault Academy, Westerlin's most prestigious boarding school. This will be the first time you've ever been away from home by yourself for any length of time.

Next

In principle, your move to Archambault is for you to discover more about yourself. According to the prospectus, the Academy specializes in teaching "the leaders of the future," and that is what you are. You may be the middle royal child—your sister Josiane is the crown princess—but your responsibilities will only grow as you get older. This is where you are to brush up your skills of leadership, and take your place amongst the highest echelons of society.

In practice, the royal family has been under greater scrutiny lately, in the wake of heated discussions in the papers about the governance of Westerlin. Many say that the royals are out of touch with the life of Westerlind citizens, and that sentiment has begun to bleed into parliamentary debates as well. And so, your mother decided to send you to Archambault to round out your studies, rather than continuing your tuition at home.

You'll be the first member of the royal family to attend a school like this for two generations. Now, sitting by the lake on this crisp evening, it's odd to imagine that only this morning you were in the palace, saying your farewells to your family.

When you hugged the Queen goodbye this morning, you breathed in her familiar orange-blossom perfume; when would you have the chance to hug her again? She patted your shoulder.

"Sweetheart," she said, "you'll thank me in time. I'm certain when you come for the holidays, you'll be desperate to fly back to the Academy."

She turned to smile at Asher, who was already dressed in their flying gear.

Your mother smiled at you, bright-eyed. "And you never know," she said. "You might find someone appropriate to get engaged to while you're there. We'd love for you to make a suitable connection."

There had always been an expectation surrounding you that you'd marry someone of high standing at some point, but it was never stated so overtly. With regard to your own feelings…

Perhaps you will find someone to get engaged to who will satisfy your mother's plans for you, and who matches what you want and need. Your mother will be exacting, whatever happens.

And now here you are, having nearly completed your journey to your new school. Your new home.

You pull off your flying cap and goggles, allowing the air to play over your face, then sit beside the water. Asher wipes their dirt-smudged face. Their smooth, pale hair is damp with sweat. They're your age, and tall, too…

Asher was taller than you when you first met as children, but in the last few years, you've shot past them. Still, it's unlikely that you could overcome them in a fight, given all their physical training.

They stuff their gloves in the pocket of their heavy flying jacket, then shuck off the jacket. "Time for dinner?" they say.

Asher swiftly spreads a cashmere blanket on the ground and smooths it out. Even in the plane, your stomach was grumbling; now, as Asher opens the picnic basket, you can't wait another moment.

Next

The wind picks up, rippling lightly along the surface of the lake. Close by, birds sing in the reeds while swans sail serenely across the water. This could be a pastoral landscape painting from the last century.

Dinner consists of crusty bread, roasted vegetables, and salad. Asher waits to check that you've eaten your fill before wolfing down a sandwich. They spread the map over their knees and study it while they eat, occasionally shaking their pale hair out of their blue eyes.

"I'll make sure it's more comfortable for the next part of the journey," they say. "It shouldn't take long. Round the western edge of the mountains, over Gallatin town, and then we should be there by the evening. I'll telephone the palace to let them know you've arrived all right. No need to worry."

They sound very much as though they're worrying.