Wilhelm
As the masquerade ball looms closer each day, there's a heavy burden of making the right decision pressed onto me. I can no longer stand August's persistent talking, nor can I not feel the guilt running through my veins every time I see Simon. Making a choice shouldn't be so hard. I used to think as we get older, things will be clear cut. Go to university or not. Move to a new city or not. Not something like this, not choosing the person you love and sacrificing everything you have or upholding your duty and disappointing the one you care about the most.
When times get bleak, Erik keeps me holding on. I think he'll be proud of me for being at Hillerska, keeping up with my school work and being somewhat happy. I think he'll want me to choose my happiness over the crown, wouldn't he? Or would he sit me down, patiently talk me out of pursuing a stupid teen fling like how everyone seems to be labelling it.
Sometimes I want to shake their shoulders until they apologise and see it my way. They have no idea what it feels like to be in... love? When he touches me, it's like stars are dancing across my skin. The mischievous spark within him ignites me. How marvellous would it be? For us to say what we wanted, exactly how we felt? Just friends don't look at each other like how we do, we're playing dumb but we know exactly what we're doing.
"I like being around you," I tell Simon one afternoon as we're sitting in the empty music room.
He chuckles at my spontaneous statement, our hands touching on the piano keys. He's been teaching me how to play. "I know, Wille, so do I."
"Usually being around people drains me, but I feel alive when I'm with you."
I think I understand why he never told me that he loved me back now. Simon suffered hell at the sacrifice of being with me. Had I expected for him to open himself up? Display vulnerability in front of me when all I've bought to him was hurt, confusion, and angst? Perhaps he wants to be with me, but it's unfair for him to be hurt any longer in this mess. Is he protecting himself from the inevitable heartbreak that the universe has written under our names?
Part of me wants to protect Simon too. If I end up with him publicly, what will the monarchy do? Will my mom ruin his life, force him and Sara out of Hillerska? Will I be plucked out of the school as well, and sent to some American school instead?
The long-overdue conversation is fresh in my mind, and I approach him after rowing practise one day. "We need to talk."
"Yeah?" He turns serious upon seeing my grave expression.
I don't know if I have the courage to say anything, so I fumbled with my hair and popped a piece of gum in my mouth to soothe the anxiousness.
"Wille, are you okay?" Simon prompts me, concern springing upon his face.
"Yeah, um," I pause as August and his friends jog past me. When they're well ahead of us, I start again. "I think I'm going to the dance with Felice."
I can't read his expression, but I know the storm that's brewing in his chest. Is he angry with me? Is he disappointed that I'm still unable to chase for what I wanted? How many times have I let him down? And how many more times will he be able to withstand me?
Simon's closed mouth smile radiates with discontentment. "Cool, I hope you guys have fun."
"Hey-" I grab his arm, forcing him to look at me. "Are you going to be there?"
"Would it matter if I wasn't?"
"I want you to be there. I-" fumbling for words, I stare angrily at the trees overhead. "We can still hang out at the dance, you know?"
His laugh is colder than I expected. "Yeah, okay."
Frustration pickles at my throat. Doesn't he understand? I'm protecting both of us. By getting a picture or two with Felice at the dance, I'm saving the two of us and buying us more time. Things will continue as they should be after it, and nothing has to change.
"Simon, can't you try to understand this?"
"I do understand."
"No, you don't. You think I'm ashamed to go to the dance with you."
Simon let out an exhale. "Even if that isn't the reason, it's what you're thinking."
"I don't think that."
"Then why?"
"Because of my parents! Because of who I am! I have to be a certain someone they're forcing me to be, but trust me, I would do anything to go to the dance with-"
He looks more despondent than angry. "If you wanted it so bad, then you should have the courage to do so."
"You have no idea what it's like."
"I'm trying, okay?" Simon says slowly. "I'm trying to understand."
"It's just a stupid dance," I try to downplay the situation. "Like, it's no big deal, alright? Everything will be how it is after it."
"Maybe it's not a big deal for you, but it speaks a thousand words on how you feel about me - about us."
I want to cry. "Look, this doesn't mean anything. I just need more time to figure some stuff out."
"Then it would be fine if I went with someone else too, right?"
The air is less tense, and I'm starting to calm down. "Oh yeah, for sure. Of course, I won't mind if you take Sara."
Simon stares at me in apparent disbelief. "No, I mean like another guy."
Another guy? Has my head been so far in the clouds that I've been completely oblivious to what's happening in Simon's life? Did I really think nothing would've changed after I left? That Simon won't have met someone else? Maybe he's too nice to tell me anything yet, but I'm determined to find out everything right this second.
"Oh, like who?" I say in what I hope is a tone radiant of casual and indifference.
His strides are longer and faster, and he pulls ahead of me, leaving me staring after him. "I guess we'll see."
***
I'm silent when Felice adjusts my tie in the mirror of her room, and she's in a stunning crimson dress, her hair cascading in waves around her shoulder. Our masks match each other's, and I'm almost glad it's hiding much of my face. My hair is slicked back to neatness, and the suit is stiff against my movement. I feel like I can't breathe, and I just want to slink back under the blankets in my bed.
Preferably with Simon tangled up against me, but that's too much of a fantasy.
Holding my head up high, my back straight. I give her a polite curtsy, offering my hand. "You look astonishing tonight, Felice."
She giggles, and takes it. "Thank you, Prince Wilhelm. You look rather put together yourself."
"Shall we?" I indicate at the door.
As we walk down the hallway towards the grand hall, we pass other students making their way towards the venue in sync. It's a sea of expensive dresses, custom made suits, exquisite masks intricate with details, shoes polished to a shine and accessories worth more than a semester's tuition. As we near, who I think is August and his date on his arm stop us from entering.
"Felice, Wilhelm, it's nice to see you two together."
My eyes are cold. "Of course."
"Stay away from the communist tonight, there are photographers everywhere," he drops his voice and leans in. "Don't mess this up, Wille."
We brush past him, and my heart is thundering in my ears. Felice seems to sense my panic because she squeezes my arm assuringly.
"Hey, you're going to be okay."
I'm not entirely sure I believe her. "Thanks."
"You know you're one of the bravest people I know?"
I shake my head, nearly breaking into bitter laughter. "Sure, sure."
"No, really," Felice says in a low voice as we move towards the entrance. "I think it's brave you decided to protect Simon and yourself. Sometimes there are no good choices for us to choose, but you decided to uphold your duties and your family, and that's the bravest thing you could've done."
I wish I could just trust what she's saying, but in my head, I see Simon's face maneuvered in disbelief when I told him that I won't be going to the dance with him. How is it brave to give in to pressure and expectations? To sacrifice happiness and joy for a life someone else has already planned for me since I was born?
My face hurts from the smile I have plastered upon my face all night, and after the introductions and formal procedures, we made our way to the dance floor. It doesn't feel entirely wrong to have my hand on Felice's waist, leaning into her and dancing across the dance floor. She's a brilliant dancer, and I feel other's gaze on us wherever we go. After the fifth song, a photographer taps me on the shoulder for us to pull aside for a formal photo. He explains that he has been snapping photos of us all night, and this one is just for the cover.
My mouth is dry as we wind our way through people, and my eyes can't help but search for Simon. I wonder if he's even here, or if he's dancing with someone else.
As if on cue, I spot Simon standing beside a group of people, but I can't see clearly if he's with anyone else in particular. His suit characterises him as a prince, and he looks elegant with royalty, his face masked by a dashing design. His friends and acquaintances might not be able to recognise him, but I know it's him by sight alone. If not by his looks, then by his touch. I'll know him when the room is too dark for us to see, I'll still know him if there are a million people in this room, dressed identically to what he's wearing. I won't be surprised if my mouth is hanging open, and blood is rushing hotly in my veins. It terrifies me how willing I am in this second to just kiss him and forget about the world. Forget about the consequences.
Our eyes meet, and he looks away in unrecognition, pretending we have never dreamed of a future together, never spoken a word to each other in our life, never touched each other in ways that lovers do. He passed me in a split second as if he's nothing but an illusion I've conjured in my mind, and the photographer is already pushing Felice and me into position, his camera huge in his hands.
"Smile!" And the camera flashes in my eyes, blinding me.