Above All Else

Chapter Thirty-Three

I look up from my sheet music, blinking back into my reality. Arnold is leaning against the piano, Oliver is seated at the keys. They both are looking my way expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. No... I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," I utter, truthfully. My fingers are curved around my cell phone and my eyes cannot stop looking to the screen, hoping I'll receive good news soon. It's been three days since Samuel was taken from Lionel's house. Tension is thick between Henry and I, both of us unable to comprehend how we'd take to hearing he'd been harmed.

Nicole is missing. She is basically a ghost, floating around without a trace. And we are left here, waiting for any news, which is probably exactly how she wants us.

"Let's take a break," Arnold murmurs, flicking his head towards Oliver. Oliver looks disappointed but stands, grabbing his water bottle, walking off the stage. I look to Arnold leaves the piano, taking a seat beside me, crossing his legs with a sigh.

"Are you nervous to sing again?" he asks, after a moment. "Is that what's going on?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Then what is bothering you?"

I smile softly, glancing at him. "I cannot speak of it."

"We've been friends for a long time. Have I ever let you down before?"

I shake my head. "No but that doesn't mean I can tell you."

"I don't know how you do it, truly," he says, with a soft chuckle. I gaze at him curiously.

"Do what?"

"You go from being a performer, an adventurous girl from Queens who has the world ahead of her to the Queen of England in the timespan of a year, a woman with the entire world on her shoulders who cannot trust in anyone she used to- because instead of getting followers, you acquired subjects. Subjects and enemies."

"And you think the price isn't worth the reward?" I question, eying him intently. He purses his lips momentarily.

"Do you want the truth?"

I nod. "I do."

"I think the reward feels satisfying now but when you grow older and this new lifestyle becomes a routine you know like the back of your hand, when you've witness every kind of function and dinner gala you can to not feel excitement in it any longer, the reward you hold dear now may not seem so worth it then."

As he says the words, I realize a few months ago, I'd be shoving up already screaming at him but not now. Now, I listen. I can think and absorb his words. I can answer him with more clarity.

I run a hand into my hair, breathing in. "Do you know how long people that have heart transplants usually live?" I ask, quietly.

His mouth frowns. "I had a thought to believe it was a replacement that would sustain you- till you grow old, like any other heart."

"Less than half see past three years, Arnie," I whisper. He stares at me, his face still as stone. "Because I'm younger, I have a better chance to make it past ten years."

"You're lying," he whispers. I shake my head, smiling slightly.

"No, I'm not."

"There have to be exceptions. I mean, you are the Queen of England. You can get the best physicians in the world."

"The longest person lived thirty more years after. That's one person. And being Queen doesn't change anything, Arnold. I can choose to go when this heart fails me or I can opt for another surgery, but the risks are greater."