Death of a Prince | ✓

EP 16: MINGLING WITH DEVILS

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This chapter is dedicated, first and foremost, to my annoyingly helpful sister for helping me figure out this entire tirade and who fought for its publishing date. Forced me to sit down and write, even at the expanse of her movie-watching.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

'mingling with devils'

part 01

    

     

THE NIGHT BEFORE the engagement party, I decided to come partially clean to my parents. Or at least, an admittance to where I see my future.

My knees uneasily juggled against the carpeted flooring of the dining roo. Our usual state during dinner time is perennially quiet; my father preferred not to be talked to but did deign my stepmother when her rhetorical chatter turned to quips or needed a hum. I never said anything much either, following in my father's suit.

But I took a gulp of water now, exhaled, and made sure my voice rose just above my stepmother's mutters about Mrs. Thackery being pregnant again to get both of their attention.

"So I was thinking of going back to school next year."

The table was silenced, my stepmother wide-eyed and eyebrows high. My father on the other hand, vaguely raised his head and made a sound from the back of his throat in posing of a query. I kept my eyes on the rolls in front of me, nodding along.

"Yes, so I've already got my applications filled and most of the money I have saved up is still intact so..." I finally raised my head, meeting my father's eyes behind his small, clear glasses. He was a weary looking man, almost, always busy somewhere else. If not physically, then mind constantly adrift. "I'm going to take a criminology course. Hopefully somewhere close by but I'm most likely going to dorm anyway."

Little Hodge was too far out into the countryside for any means of transportation day to day.

My stepmother glanced at my father before she swallowed her food. "Criminology, dear? I mean that sounds fantastic, you'll love college life I'm sure, but um..."

"Since when," dad asked, going back to his meat as he sawed it carefully.

My stepmother pursed her lips, unable to eat as I carefully looked over to my father. "When what?"

"When did you decide that you're going? Or that you've chosen a course?"

"Since this summer," I said honestly. "I wasn't a hundred percent sure yet back then so I didn't make the necessary process for this year, but I am now and I've done most of the applications, I just need to send them."

"What do you intend to do with a criminology degree?" I tried to discern through my father's usual tone and voice, but there was nothing to dig. This was his usual tone, his usual voice. The conversation felt normal and my shoulders eased slightly in relief.

But I was not relieved. Not yet.

"I was thinking of doing consulting work after." The truth felt like sand in my mouth, but I kept at it despite the wide-eyed stare now blooming in my stepmother's face, shifting a look between my father and I like we were a tennis match.

"Private Investigation?" she finally peeped, voice sort of high and reedy. "Like a PI?"

I kept her stare, willing to make her understand that I was being serious. "Yes, something of a kind."