Officer Nancy offered me the passenger seat of her car and I took it. I didn't blame her for any of this. She was just doing her job. She didn't have to be so smug about it, but I suppose she could have been much meaner.

"This is embarrassing," I said.

"If you’d come when I first asked, it would have been easier."

"I shouldn't have to do this to begin with. I'm twenty-five years old."

"Then act like it."

"I'm trying to," I said. "What do you think twenty-five-year-olds do? They go to clubs. They go out and meet people. They have fun."

She sighed. "You want to be a normal twenty-five-year-old?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Let me show you something," she took a sudden right, which led us up a narrow, poorly lit mountain road.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'm going to tell you a story," she said. "Once upon a time, there was a normal twenty-five-year-old. She did her normal twenty-five-year-old things, balancing her normal twenty-five-year-old job, working as a barista at a coffee shop."

She started speeding uphill, getting too close to the edge for my liking. In my head, I knew she was an expert driver, I'd seen the video of her completing her driver's training at the police academy where she set a new course record, but it was still terrifying to look over the edge and see the houses and roads below getting smaller and smaller. "Could you slow down?"

"Just a minute, I'm getting to the good part. It was the weekend, so this girl said she owed herself some fun. So she went out clubbing with her friends. You know, all in good fun," it was clear she was trying to tell the story in as neutral a way as she could, but she was grinding her teeth together and clutching the wheel.

Her voice sped up. "She met a guy there and asked him if he wanted to go back to her place and, because it sounded fun, he said yes. Now the next part of the story, it's a little fuzzy."

Officer Nancy pulled into a lay-by and stopped the car.

"Come on out of the car, let me show how the story ends."

I got out of the car and she walked me over to the edge, where a railing allowed me to look over the city and notice the bright lights off in the distance.

She pointed over the edge. "Can you see that?"

"I don't see anything," it was pitch black below.

"No, then listen," she picked up a rock and threw it off the edge. There wasn't a sound.

"What am I listening for?"

"Shhh," she said. She picked up another rock and threw it. No sound. I waited as she threw another one, which, a second or so later, landed with a metallic clank. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah."

"That's the end of the story. Somehow between the club and her house she ended up here and the car went over the edge. It took the fire department seven hours to recover her body, which had a blood alcohol content of 1.4. They obviously never recovered the car."

"What's the point?" I asked.

"The point is, being a normal twenty-five-year-old isn't so much fun when you're dead. And while most twenty-five-year-olds have the luxury of dying, you are royalty and do not. Get back in the car."

I did as she said. She started it up and turned around, back down the hill.

"That story," she said. "Was about my older sister. Now let me tell you about me when I was a normal twenty-five-year-old. You know what I was doing? It wasn't so long ago. I was working fifty hours a week waitressing at two different restaurants to pay my way through school. On my feet all day, a smile on my face even as the customers were insulting me. Is that the kind of normal you're after?"

She shook her head looking over at me. "I think you've got it pretty good, kid. You've got people who do all your work for you, you live in a palace, and you're throwing a fit because we're trying to keep you safe."

"Maybe I don't want to be safe," I said. "Maybe I want to live a little."

"Maybe you do, maybe you don't. One thing I do know is your mother wants you home. So long as she's the one I'm working for, I follow her orders. You can take it up with her."

She was so annoying when she played the, "just doing my job" card. She wouldn't listen to any argument and I knew trying to convince her of anything was a waste of time.

"Yeah," I said, "I'll talk to her."

* * *

My mom was waiting for me when I got home, her Pomeranian on her lap, ready to offer up a thick layer of Aldonian guilt. I'd become immune to it, but it didn’t stop her from trying.

"Thank you, Officer Davis," my mom said.

"You're welcome, your highness."

"I trust he didn't give you too much trouble?"

"Oh, you know, nothing I can't handle," Officer Nancy said, smiling. I think she liked the challenge. Or maybe it was the power she had, working for the Queen. She effectively shut down the club with a snap of her fingers.

"Of course not," my mom said. "I'll take it from here. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Officer Nancy left the hall, closing the comically large doors behind her. My mom sat on her throne, wearing her crown, a figure of grace and royalty. And guilt-trips. Mostly guilt-trips.

It was all a show. Once Nancy was out of the room, she removed the crown, placing it beside her, and leaned back in her chair.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she asked. "Really, is that what you're trying to do? I have the whole kingdom to worry about. Keeping the people happy. Ensuring we remain on good terms with our neighboring nations. And you thought I needed more to keep me awake at night?"

"No, Mom," I said. "It's just…"

"I'm not done," she said. "You know I have an ulcer, don't you? You know stress causes it to act up? You don't see Frederick or David gallivanting around town when there's someone out there trying to murder you all, do you?"

"Come on, Mom, nobody's been murdered in Aldonia…"

"Not in fifteen years. That isn't that long ago. And now there is a very real threat from the Leitberg radicals."

"Very real? Mom, those are just rumors."

"They are not. We've had reports. The best intelligence we have suggests there's a violent faction planning to assassinate the royal family. Me, you, your brothers. All of us."

"So what?"

"'So what?' I tell my son there are people trying to kill him. And his brothers. And his mother. And his response is, 'So what?'"

"That's not what I mean. I mean we need to live our lives. We can't stop doing what we're doing. Otherwise, they've already won."

My mother slowed down her speech, accentuating each word to make sure I understood.

"They are not going to win," she said. "And you will be able to do whatever you like. You just need to be patient," she looked over at me and shook her head. "You've always been like this Beau."

She was beginning the speech. I knew it verbatim.

"When you were a baby, you'd always escape from your crib."

She always brought this up. It was the first thing she mentioned when I misbehaved as a child and now, as an adult, it was the beginning of every lecture.

"I've never been able to get you to do what's best for you."

Of course, it wasn’t her job anymore. I was an adult. In fact, I'd been one for more than a few years. How many twenty-five-year-olds still live with their parents?

I should have been living in my own apartment by now, able to make all the bad decisions I wanted, whenever I wanted to. That was the benefit of growing up.

It was here that she broke from the script.

"That's why I've taken the liberty of assigning you a bodyguard."

"A bodyguard?" I was livid. "Isn't that supposed to be Officer Nancy's job?"

"No. In fact, it was her idea. Officer Davis works hard and can keep you reasonably safe in most situations. It is not her job to put her life on the line for you. That's not what she signed up for. We need someone who can take a bullet for you."

She couldn't be serious. "I don't want anybody taking a bullet for me."

"Then don't leave the palace. If you want to go out into the world, there are people out there that want you dead. I don't want anyone to die, but if it has to be someone, I'd rather it be some American former marine than my son."

There was no use arguing with her.

"So sit tight," she said. "He'll be here in the morning."