The Prince and the Punk [EDITING]

Chapter 20

Xavier

I'm officially one of those annoying, self-pitying dicks.

Part of me thinks, well, who can blame me? My little sister is the result of my father's affair, my family is basically a sham, the only girl I've ever loved is about to go to war and I can't even talk to her, and there's a 99% chance I'll have to marry that vapid mannequin Desiree Adams.

Another part of me tells me that four weeks is enough time for moping and I should get over it and get on with my duties. Which would be true if my job was anything other than looking pretty on the portscreens.

So why shouldn't I mope? I can force a decent smile for the world—why should I lie to myself the rest of the time?

I sleep a lot now, or I lay in bed and think. I think about how much better my bed was when Janice slept in it, and how much brighter and warmer everything felt. I think about that moment when she left, when I thought about calling out to tell her I love her. I think about what a coward I was for not doing it. I think about how much I hate myself, hate my father, hate my life, hate the world.

I start to cry.

God, I'm completely falling apart. I've never been this depressed.

I stare at the jacket Janice left draped across the back of my chair. For me, it's become a symbol of the past—that blissful time when I had no inkling of the unfortunate, unpredictable turn my life would take. It reminds me of the good times, which makes me sick.

Ever since I sent Janice's letter back, I've felt even worse. Somehow, it made its way into my hands without interception. Reading it was one of the hardest things I've ever done, because her words were so optimistic and hopeful. I keep forgetting that she doesn't know about my father's threat, about the jeopardy her life is in, or about the damage even a letter could do.

I wanted to write back and explain everything to her so she would understand, so she would know I love her and I'm trying to protect her. But in the end, I didn't. As much as I wanted to keep this one thread of contact, I didn't. Somewhere, I found the willpower to reseal and send back the small envelope. She may end up hating me, but I guess now that's probably for the best.

Somewhere during all of that worrying and grieving, I find time to stress about my mother. I haven't forgiven her, and I don't think she's any better of a parent, but she has managed to wrench a little pity from me. Not that there's much of it to spare. Most of what I don't take for myself goes to Katie. She has to find out about her true mother someday, even if the rest of the world never does. She'll always be my baby sister, but it's hard to see her the same way now.

I haven't talked to her lately, and I think she knows something isn't right.

"Xavier."

I jump, not having heard my father come in.

"Yeah, feel free to barge in. Don't knock or anything," I spit.

"Sit up," he orders.

I don't. "What do you want? You gonna make me cut off a limb, too?"

He ignores my comment and crosses the room to throw open my curtains, which have remained drawn for the past few weeks.

"It's like a mausoleum in here," he comments. When I don't reply, he continues, "I came up to tell you that you energy is slipping. It's clear to everyone you aren't happy."

"Duh."

"If you ever want to be an effective ruler, you need to be able to put your personal problems on hold for the sake of the public. You represent these people. You're their leader, and you need to appear strong and collected for them."

I bolt upright, outraged at his words. "That's all your fault. You decided to fuck up my life, and you're the one making me go on TV in the first place. I think I'm allowed to be upset! And you're not 'representing he public' with this game show bullshit—you're lying to them. You're saying that everything's okay when it's not. You're trying to keep them distracted and treating them like idiots. You do not get to tell me to smile, you manipulative asshole!"

His expression turns cold. "Here's my advice to you," he says severely. "Forget the girl. You're never going to see her again, even if she does live. And I'm sure you remember that a toe out of line means she won't." He pauses to let the reminder sink in. "There's an entire floor directly above us full of beautiful girls who will bend over backwards for you—"

"Gross."

"—so go take advantage of it. This isn't meant to be a punishment. You're the one refusing to enjoy it. If you change your outlook, things will get a whole lot easier for you."

He leaves before I can yell at him again.

I stare at the door.

"Goddammit."

++++

I'm editing this a year after I wrote it. It's easily the shortest chapter in the book and that's probably for the best. Whiny Xavier gets old pretty fast.

Anyway, be sure to let me know your thoughts so far! I really love hearing from you guys! I'm running out of different ways to tell you to vote and comment so... vote and comment.