Blue Blood and Belgium Chocolate

|20| The Bothersome Night

PRINCE DAEGAN

A man of killer instincts

ONCE, MY WORLD was encased in a glass bubble. I knew there were issues out there but I dealt with them from the comfort of a meeting room. I'd sometimes doodle while I wait for them to finish talking about whatever new issue we had.

Then, the next day, I'm tossed outside the glass bubble and no longer did an issue feel so far away. Suddenly, it's an issue of life or death, of your next meal. 

I thought I'd never be in the glass bubble again. 

Till I was, but the the outside followed me in. 

There are things that your memory does to you. When I had been lying on the cold ground, trying to sleep, all I could picture in my head was soft feathered beds. When I lined up to get some of the worst meals I've gotten. I remembered our families tedious Sunday dinners with more warmth and appreciation. 

I missed a lot of thing the Castle has given me. I'd taken them for granted. So when I came back, for good this time, slowly my duties piled on me. It's become more and more apparent as days flew by, that it wasn't all feathered beds, large rooms and delicious meals at my beck and call. 

There were meetings, with the Parliament, with individual members, with Adaliz, and with father and Adaliz. 

And these meetings spanned hours long. Each of them. With the Parliament, it's mostly listening taking notes when needed. I had people to take a full run-down of what was said, but I too, should take notes when needed. I'm not meant to voice my thoughts out until I could think of it in a more diplomatic manner of speaking. 

Then after a meeting has concluded, if I thought any man or women in their right minds would want to go home. I had been very wrong.

They lingered.

Some would come to me. To talk. 

What did you think of the meeting, Prince Daegan?

Was the Prime Ministers pitch of the new legislation fair to those ...?

Have you met my daughter, Prince Daegan?

They ranged from anything I could think of. And I had to think of the best diplomatic way to answer them. Sometimes, I'd catch Adaliz's eye. He'd smile. Proud. And it made it bearable, but not for long. 

Because, there's always something more pressing at the back of my mind. 

Meetings with father and Adaliz, I still had to think diplomatically. I could never voice myself as freely as I do with my brother and I alone. Adaliz felt it too, which was why after every meeting he'd drop in on my room so we can discuss further and freely what we really thought.

When Adaliz thinks, he needs to voice it out to process it. Often, he already has a solution, a better idea but he vets it through me because, for Adaliz, it has to be perfect. 

Do I sound tired? I can't tell, my thoughts either drift slowly or quickly by for me to grasp. I'll think of a solution but it disappears too fast before I can write it down on paper. I'm just so tired.

Nights have begun to feel harder and harder to rest. When I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I see the prominence of the darkness under my eyes. I'll think of the glass bottle of sleeping pills each night with more and more temptation but fear keeps me away. I can't let anything happen to my family.