2
“How am I supposed to think with that racket, let alone get anything done in here?” Edward posed the question aloud to no one, but Lance, his driver, was coming out of the restroom and heard him. Lance walked over to Edward.
“If nothing else, those protesters are a determined bunch,” he said.
“’Determined’ is one way to put it.” Edward let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s a miracle no one was hurt yesterday at the schoolhouse implosion,” he said. “A group larger than this one was at the site all day, chanting, waving signs, getting in the way. One woman even charged the school just before the devices were set off. She could have been killed!”
Lance shook his head. “You seem stressed, sir. Would you like me to fetch you a tea?”
Edward did not want tea. What he would like Lance to fetch for him was a large container of common sense that he could dump all over the crowd outside the castle. Did they not understand the need for progress?
“No thanks, Lance. I’m fine,” he said and watched Lance tread casually down the hallway of the old castle Edward had inherited from his aunt. Lance whistled his way through the front doors, and Edward found himself envious of his driver’s serenity. He wished he could go on a long drive in the country instead of being stuck with the historical society breathing down his neck to restore this old castle to its original splendor at all costs.
Splendor.
All Edward saw was work. So much work and money to be poured into something from the past. Why not put the effort and resources into the future? He would so prefer to be immersed in the urban development project, designing modern structures with ecological benefits. Instead he was stuck in this drafty old castle that devoured fossil fuels at light speed and was falling apart at the seams. His contractors were all behind schedule, and their work was shoddy when it did get done, leading to even more uproar from the historical experts who blamed him for every shortcoming.
In the back bedroom, the one where he used to stay during summer visits to Aunt Ellie, Edward noticed a water spot on the ceiling.
“Jenna,” he called to one of the contractors. “Can you take a look at this?”
A heavyset woman with thick glasses appeared at his side. “Yes, sir?”
“I hope that isn’t a leak.” He pointed to the ceiling, and Jenna nodded.
“I’ll get it checked out right away,” she promised and hurried from the room.
Once he was alone, Edward let his eyes roam around the space. As a young child, he used to play toy soldiers on this floor. Anytime he engaged in hide and seek with his aunt, he never failed to hide in the wall closet in this room. He went to the wall closet, opened it and grinned.
It still smelled like mothballs.
These boyhood memories softened him, nostalgia making him glad, if only for a moment, that he was tasked to rehabilitate the castle rather than demolish it, even though it was taking up far too much of his time. He gazed at the pale blue walls—the ones he used to stare at until they blurred and he fell asleep. Beside his old bed was a window that offered a view of the forest beyond. He remembered when he and his childhood friend, Bo, would climb out this very window and race into the forest to have adventures.
Bo had been a bit of a troublemaker, a friend his parents didn’t quite approve of. Given that they were only eight years old at the time, his mother had been willing to give Bo a chance, to let the boys be boys, as she had said back then, but not his father. After Edward and Bo were caught stealing chickens from a neighboring farm, King Hansen had forbidden his son to play with Bo.
“You must be mindful of your actions and guard yourself, son,” his father had told him. “You have a reputation to uphold as future king of Sovalon, and the friends you keep will affect your family name.”
“But Father.” He’d cried and begged his father to reconsider, not wanting to end his friendship with Bo. They were like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer—pals. At eight years old, this was important.
“No more words, Edward. Stop crying and put on a brave face,” he said. “Along with the crown comes the responsibility of pushing away your personal feelings for the good of the kingdom.”
Once Edward had wiped his eyes and stopped crying, his father patted his head.
“Now, let’s leave the past in the past and look ahead.”
His father’s words had stayed with him from that time on. He’d struggled with letting go of Bo, but he knew it was for the greater good. In the same sense, demolishing the schoolhouse and other decrepit sites was for the future of the kingdom.
Leave the past in the past.
Forge into the future.
This was what he was trying to do, but he continued to be railroaded into projects like restoring this old castle. As the chanting from the mosh pit outside grew louder yet, Edward felt like he was about to implode. What reason did they have to protest his work here? This was seemingly what they wanted—for him to protect and rejuvenate the relics of old. But of course, they had to find some reason to complain. In this case, it was because they thought he was dragging his feet, not making this a priority.
Okay, maybe they were right—but that was hardly the point. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have better things to do.
In haste, he marched out of the blue bedroom and down the corridor into the foyer. He threw open the front doors and squelched his fear of public speaking. He absolutely had to address this heckling pack of troublemakers, and as the bright sun forced his eyes into a squint, he opened his mouth to give them all a piece of his mind.
And said nothing.
Because at the very second his eyes adjusted to the light, they fell onto a face he’d had a hard time getting out of his head for the past two days. Standing in the crowd of protestors, with her hair piled in a messy bun atop her head and her wide blue eyes throwing glints of surprise his way, was the woman from the old schoolhouse. Her presence seemed to distort reality for a beat. Edward shook his head, unsure if she was real or just a mirage of his desire. The memory of their passionate kiss wafted over him, and he was rendered speechless, stuck inside her gaze until the moment passed.
Edward took a deep breath and centered himself. He descended the castle steps and approached the crowd.
“Citizens,” he addressed them, trying hard not to look at the woman who affected him so. “I understand and sympathize with your desire to salvage important historical landmarks.”
The people muttered to themselves. A man with a sign reading “Save Sovalon’s History” pushed forward.
“What about the schoolhouse you destroyed yesterday?” he complained. “My great-great-grandmother was the teacher there.”
Oh, for goodness sakes. If Edward had to worry about everyone’s great-great-grandmothers, he would get absolutely nowhere.
“I’m sorry it meant something to you,” Edward said, his hands clasped in a manner he thought might give him an air of empathy and care. “But the building was falling apart. It was a danger to the neighborhood. And now that we’ve let it go, we can create something fresh and special. The Urban Planning and Housing Development board is trying to balance the new with the old, while keeping in mind that the future of our kingdom depends on progress.”