#((to quote swendie/my own typo...NUGO))

[evalinkatrineberg]

Questions

A/N: This is the product of challenge 3 side RPs done with @hugo-stanton and @arin-schreave . I feel compelled to mention that Evalin has definitely NEVER read 50 Shades of Grey before. With that, I’ll leave you to it!

I really didn’t have much of a clue as to what was going on. The note, once again, had arrived while I was out of the room - probably when I had been in the library studying, or perhaps when I had been out running, or talking to Idalia, or doing other tasks that demanded my attention. Regardless, all I knew was that my maids were now getting me ready for someone to take photos of me this afternoon at the beach. I couldn’t help but wonder why photos were only being taken now, so far into the Selection already, but perhaps it really wasn’t my place to question this. There must be a good reason, anyway.

The other question I had was how appropriate my appearance was for the setting of these photographs. Grace had insisted that I needed to wear heels to this photography session, but I was having trouble discerning a logical explanation for her assertion. The photos were to be taken on a beach, after all. Grace must have never tried to walk in a pair of heels in the sand, because it was near impossible to do. I had managed to take all of three steps before stopping dead in my tracks and leaning down, undoing the thin straps of the heels and deciding to just walk barefoot with them in my hand until I found this photographer.

The other issue with my appearance at the moment was the fact that my hair was completely down, loose and unbound, the wind tossing it every which way, specifically right in my face. A few strands kept finding their way to my lips, which led me to believe that my makeup was probably wonderfully smudged already. The whole look was rather impractical. That was fine, though. I supposed I just had to get this over with.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I caught sight of someone - a man - crouching by a log, holding a camera up to his face. Deciding that he must be the photographer, I dropped my hand, tucking the same loose strands of hair behind my ears for the umpteenth time and looking down at the sand as I walked, intent on avoiding stepping on anything sharp. I really didn’t need to bleed in front of another man while I was here. Once was more than enough. I didn’t need to make that a habit.

“Hello,” I called as I approached, offering the photographer a small wave as my eyes flitted between the sand beneath my feet and his face. Something about him was unsettlingly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

It’s probably nothing.

The photographer lowered his camera, looking up at me and rising to his feet with a smile on his face. “Hi, Evalin,” he began, extending his hand towards me. “I’m Hugo.”

So he knew my name, then. Funny how some people were good with that sort of information, whereas others had only learned my name after a few weeks of us living under the same roof. Hugo probably met a lot of people in his line of work, though, I figured, so he had probably had to get good at memorizing names.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hugo.” I shook his hand, offering him another smile before pulling my hand back and leaning down to put on my shoes, not dropping his eye contact as I did. My fingers fumbled with the straps. Damn them for being so tiny. “Sorry about this - sand and heels don’t mix, apparently!”

Hugo simply shook his head and waved his hand dismissively at my shoes. “Oh, you can leave them off if you like. I imagine they’re not very comfortable.”

“Oh.” I had to laugh at that. He was right, of course, but his answer still surprised me a little nonetheless. I wasn’t about to argue with him, though, so I placed my shoes in the sand, quickly making a mental note of what they were near. There was the log, and a small grouping of rocks. It shouldn’t be too hard to find this spot again. “Okay, yeah, that’s a lot easier for me, thank you!” Looking at him once more, I clasped my hands together in front of me. “So, is there something in particular you want me to do right now? I don’t really know how this works.”

I didn’t even know what I was doing here, to be honest. Was this something I had signed up for? I had no memory of doing so, but maybe I had signed some paper or another without even thinking about it, distracted by the million and one other things I had to do. The policy proposal was demanding most of my mental focus at the moment. I didn’t feel like it was as far reaching enough as it could be, or far reaching enough to make much of an impact at all,  but I couldn’t come up with a solution that would rectify that before the damned thing was due. I could only hope that what I had come up with was satisfactory enough to keep me around here for at least a little while longer.

Long enough to receive another kiss from Arin, maybe.

God, I was the hopeless one, wasn’t I?

I snapped back out of my thoughts as Hugo nodded, smiling at me. “Why don’t you sit down on the log and we’ll take it from there?”

I was pretty confident in my ability to do that. “Sure.” I smiled back at him, brushing the wrinkles out of my dress once I had taken a seat on the log. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable chair, but it wasn’t too unbearable. I could handle it. Still, chatter might be a welcome way to distract myself, and it seemed like Hugo might be a better conversationalist than some of the other people I had been talking to recently. It was worth a shot. “So, what got you into photography, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Hugo took a few steps backwards before taking a seat on the sand, crossing his legs like a pretzel. He began to fiddle with his camera, instantly drawing my attention to the device. It looked nice, though I didn’t know the first thing about photography, so I could have been very incorrect about that. I was willing to bet that he was adjusting the settings, though, to account for the lighting of the beach. “My aunt used to be in the film industry,” he finally answered, “so that’s where it came from, I think.”

“That’s so cool!” I responded with a smile. Had his aunt worked as a camerawoman, then? I was close to recommending that he talk to Indie, since that seemed right up her alley, but something had me biting my tongue, keeping my advice at bay. “You’ve been doing this for quite a while, then?” I asked instead.

“A few years,” he replied with a shrug, lifting his head to look at me once more.

“Oh.” I inclined my head slightly to the right, narrowing my eyes at him ever so slightly, as if I could pull the answers I sought out of him with my vision alone. Most of the Fives I had met had begun pursuing their craft at a younger age, in their early teens, mostly, in order to perfect it by the time they were young adults. My own mother had done just that, based on the stories of her childhood that she’d shared with my siblings and I. How had he made a living before finding photography? He looked young enough, sure, but definitely a good few years older than me. Maybe he just looked older than he actually was, though.

My curiosity got the better of me. “Did you have another job before this, then?”

Hugo shook his head, looking at me with an expression that showed me that I had just caught him red-handed. So, he hadn’t, then. Interesting, indeed! “Does being a student count as a job?”

I was only growing more confused with each answer he gave me. He had had enough money to go to school for photography, or at least that was what I assumed he had studied, and yet he hadn’t held a job before then? That was practically unheard of for a Five. I could only imagine the reaction my mother would have when I shared this story with her.

I laughed a little at his response, then, pushing my own prying questions aside in the interest of being polite. “I’d argue yes, but as a student myself, I think I’m a bit biased.”

His camera was already up, the shutter flashing, as he captured his desired image. Still, he continued the conversation nonetheless. “What are you in school for?”

“Biology, actually.” Maybe I can use this as a segue into my own questions. “What about you - what did you study?” Perhaps he was simply an insanely wealthy Two or Three - a lawyer, or an engineer, perhaps - who had discovered he had a passion for photography, and had picked it up as a hobby. I was interested in why the palace would hire him, then, as opposed to a Five who did this sort of work to make a living, especially since Princess Mélanie seemed so sympathetic to the plight of the lower castes, from what I had seen and heard of her work.

“Arts,” Hugo answered, snapping another photo before continuing, “but some strings had to be pulled to make that happen, so I’m not sure how fair it is I had the opportunity.”

“Well,” I began, unsure of how to respond to that. All I knew was that I could not allow myself to frown, even if it was only in consternation. That would not look pleasing in a picture. I shifted my position a bit, doing my best to keep my face down and hidden as I considered my next words. “If that’s your passion, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to pursue it.”

I wholeheartedly believed that statement. It was actually somewhat related to the policy proposal I had saved in my drafts on my computer, though different enough that his experience couldn’t be used as an example of how my proposed policy could be beneficial to Illéa as a whole.

Once again, Hugo shrugged. “I’m happy enough,” he reassured me, smiling as he pulled the camera away from his face.

“That’s good.” I nodded back at him, my smile falling a bit and my eyes narrowing as I considered his words. Happy enough, but not happy. What was holding him back from that last bit of contentment, then? Did he really feel so guilty about studying the arts in university that it kept him from being completely happy?

The sound of waves crashing against the short pulled my attention away from him then, and I turned to watch them roll in, and then flow back out, pulled by a force none of us could see. As if in response, some strands of my hair flew out from behind my ears, blowing in the direction of the waves. I smiled a bit as I pushed them back where I wanted them to be, though it was starting to get on my nerves. Despite that, I could hear the shutter of Hugo’s camera, and decided it was best to keep my negative emotions at bay for the time being. Maybe I needed more sleep, or maybe just more time to relax, but either way, I shouldn’t take it out on Hugo, or the photos. He had been nothing but kind, no matter how confused his tales of his life left me.

I heard him standing up, and before I could fully drag my attention away from the waves, he had already made his way over to me, his hand held out towards me, palm upwards. “Why don’t we go down by the water?”

I placed my hand in his, feeling a faint blush form on my face at the touch. His hands were smooth - practically uncalloused. This man hadn’t done a day of hard labor in his life, and he definitely had never played a string instrument, that much I was almost one-hundred percent certain of. Who was he?

I pushed that aside yet again, instead offering him a, “Thank you,” as I rose to my feet, shaking my head as I looked back at the water. “That’d be nice. It’s been so long since I’ve actually been to the beach. I don’t know why I haven’t come down here sooner.”

“It’s pretty nice down here,” he agreed, looking out at the water himself now. He pointed a finger off towards the expanse of beach that lay to my right. “If you go down that way maybe ten to fifteen minutes, there’s a little lagoon.”

I followed his finger, squinting as if that would somehow magically bring the lagoon into view. It was definitely too far for me to see. It was foolish to even try. Still, maybe I could incorporate it into some of my morning runs, if I could find it. It’d be nice to shake up my route a little bit, anyway, and dipping my feet in the water would probably feel really good after running in the dry, Angeles heat. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you!” Turning to him then, I smiled, and asked, “Are there any razor clams around there? Those things used to scare me like nothing else whenever I went to the beach as a kid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. Maybe scared wasn’t the right word - startled was more like it. As a child, I had somehow managed to convince myself that being hit by the water those stupid little clams squirted into the air whenever somebody got too close would hurt like a bee sting, or being hit by a water balloon. I had often clung to my father’s arm whenever one of my brothers called out that they had found some razor clams, doing whatever it took to circumnavigate my way to the ocean, just to avoid being hit by the clams’ water. It was so silly of me, but I had been a rather skittish kid.

Hugo sucked in a breath before answering. “Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not the right person to ask. That’s more Arin’s thing.”

Arin had a thing for marine ecology? I raised an eyebrow, remembering the questions Reggie had asked me in the library all those weeks ago. Was that somehow related to this new revelation about Arin’s interest? Hell, the fact that he had actual interests outside of running the country was news to me. I chucked a bit as I stepped into the water. “Really? Interesting! I’ll have to keep that in mind then.”

Wait a minute. How does Hugo know that?

I narrowed my eyes at the photographer, furrowing my brows. “How do you know him?” If he had only been a photographer for a few years, he couldn’t be the one responsible for most of the royal photographs I had seen prior to coming here. He shouldn’t have had enough time to build up such a casual rapport with Arin - comfortable enough to call him by only his first name, with no title or honorific.

Who the hell was this guy?

He shot me an expression that was somewhere between sheepish and guilty as he admitted, “We’re cousins.”

Oh, maybe that’s why his face looks kind of familiar, then.

My eyes went a little wide, and I covered my mouth with my hand for a moment, trying my best to hide the shock that was undoubtedly still evident on my face. Once I had taken a second to compose myself again, I pulled my hand away from my face. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I had no clue!”

“Why are you sorry?” His confusion was written all over his face. Unlike his cousin, he wore his emotions openly, it seemed. “If I ran into one of your cousins, I wouldn’t know who they were unless they told me.”

I looked around for a moment, attempting to come up with a response. “Yeah, but…” I trailed off. My family isn’t famous, or royalty, and I don’t have any cousins. I couldn’t blurt that out without thinking. I had to learn to stem the flow of my words before they seriously got me in trouble one of these days. So I looked at him again, offering a small smile and waving my hand through the air. “Never mind,” I decided, turning to look down at the water as it lapped at my feet. It was a lot colder than I had expected it would be.

Hugo didn’t respond, instead taking a few steps backwards and fiddling with his camera again, which now hung around his neck. I looked back over my shoulder at him. Maybe I should try a new topic of conversation, then. “Have you lived in Angeles your whole life?”

He shook his head, his body going still as he lined up his next shot. “No, I was born in France, actually. Have you lived in your province your whole life?”

For someone who had supposedly grown up abroad, he didn’t have much of a discernible accent, at least not to me. Then again, maybe I was just used to my grandfather’s thick Northern Swendish accent. There were times that I could barely understand what he was trying to say when he endeavored to speak English. Hugo didn’t seem to have that difficulty, though. He must have had a great education, then.

I nodded in response to his question. “During the school year, yes. When we were younger, though, my parents would send my siblings and I to Swendway with our grandparents for the summer. They still have this little cabin near Tromsø, but they don't like to live there year round because of how cold it gets. It’s fun in the summer, though, because the sun never sets.”

I could feel my smile growing as I spoke, the memories of my childhood summers flooding back all at once. My grandfather loved to take my siblings and I out on a little sailboat he had docked at the local marina. We’d all do our best to distract him so he didn’t realize how late it was getting, and then whenever he did realize, we’d inform him that we couldn’t possibly go to bed yet, because the sun was still up. He’d always chuckled at our mischief, but I was sure he must have gotten tired of it after a while. Yet, neither he nor my grandmother had ever reprimanded any of us. I missed those summers. It had been ages since any of us had been back, thanks to the ongoing conflict with Swendway. It wasn’t exactly the safest place for an Illéan to travel at the moment, much to my own disappointment.

A new light shone in Hugo’s eyes once I had finished regaling him with the tales of my summers past. “That must be beautiful. I only ever visited Swendway once before…” he trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished.

What had happened when he had gone to Swendway?

I tilted my head a bit to the right, keeping my smile in tact as I asked, “When?”

“I was a teenager,” he answered, his own smile reappearing now. It wasn’t much of an answer, seeing as I didn’t know how old he was, but I assumed that that had to mean it was before the relations between Illéa and Swendway had taken a turn for the worse.

“Me too,” I replied, laughing a little, “though I guess that’s not saying much in terms of how long ago it was. We stopped going once my older siblings started heading off to college. Timing got too complicated, and all that. So it’s been a few years.” Or so that was the reason my parents had fed me when I was fourteen. It felt like a safer explanation to give him, somehow. “Where in Swendway did you go?”

“Geirangerfjord,” he answered smoothly. A hint of hesitation crept over his face then, and in a more tense tone of voice, he added, “and Stockholm, of course.”

“Naturally,” I replied, nodding. It only made sense that he had been to the capital of Swendway. My own father had grown up there, mostly, thanks to my grandfather’s job. It was a lovely city, based on what I had been told by both my father and his parents, with cobbled streets and some buildings over hundreds of years old. Now, though, I could understand why visiting there could be a point of contention. I’d better change the subject again. “Sounds like you’ve had the chance to travel a lot!”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I have, and I’d love to go back.”

“Me too, one day,” I agreed, looking up at the sky and gesturing around a bit with my right hand. “I’ve got other things to do first, though.” I looked back at him then, laughing a bit, though it felt more forced than it had before. There was so much to do at this point in my life. Weren’t you supposed to gain more freedom as you grew up? It certainly didn’t feel that way to me.

Hugo laughed along. “I think we all have a lot we want to do.”

“Of course,” I replied smoothly, flashing him a joking smile as I turned to face him more, gently kicking a little of the water in the process. “We just need a time machine to do it all.”

“A time machine?” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he looked at me.

“I mean, there’s just so much to do, and so little time to try and do it all,” I attempted to explain. It was an age-old problem, I had supposed, but maybe it wasn’t as relatable as I had thought. I cleared my throat, looking up at the sky, holding my left hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. My hair tickled the bare skin of my neck as the wind blew it backwards this time, out of my face. That wasn’t my main concern as I took in the rapidly darkening sky, though. “Are those storm clouds?”

He looked up as well then, nodding once as he took in the sky. “Looks like it. That blew in quickly, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I frowned as I made my way back out of the water. In Carolina, it wasn’t uncommon for storms to pop up and then dissipate within the span of a couple of hours, especially during the summer, but I hadn’t seen that happen here, yet. I had a feeling we were in for a long afternoon and evening of much needed precipitation. “I think this will actually be the first time it’s rained since I’ve been here.”

Hugo glanced down at his camera, a frown forming on his face. “Maybe we should head back.”

“Yeah, that seems like the best idea,” I agreed, already making my way up the beach towards my shoes. “Your camera looks very nice, and I’d hate for it to get damaged.”

“It’s just a thing, but I’d love it if it didn’t get wet,” he called after me, following me up the beach. So, he wasn’t incredibly materialistic, then. Each word that came out of his mouth was like another piece of a puzzle, but instead of the pieces coming together to form a clear picture of Hugo, none of them seemed to quite fit together.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Entirely understandable.”

“Well,” he began, his pace speeding up as he attempted to close the distance between us, “if we’re quick, it won’t be an issue.”

A bit ironic that that’s coming from the guy who’s trying to catch up with me, isn’t it?

“Good thing I like to run, then!” I replied with a laugh.

Hugo just made a face at that. “I don’t run. Speed walking is the most you’ll get from me.”

At this point, I had kind of figured that out, but I laughed anyway as I looked at him over my shoulder once again. “Ah, but you’re tall.” It was true. He couldn’t have been more than an inch shorter than Arin. “That makes up for the speed difference.”

“I’m pretty sure multiple people would disagree with you,” he replied with a small laugh.

I raised an eyebrow, my chest still rising and falling with silent laughter. I hadn’t met his entire family yet, but they didn’t seem like giants compared to him. “What, are you a stop and smell the roses kind of guy?”

He waited a few seconds before responding, and then settled on, “I’ve never had anyone say that about me, but I guess I am.” With that, he began to hum thoughtfully, his mind no doubt embarking on a small journey of self-reflection over a sentence I hadn’t even thought about as it had flown out of my mouth.

I offered him a reassuring smile. “Nothing wrong with appreciating the small wonders of life! Sometimes it’s nice to just be able to take your time and really enjoy something.” That was quite possibly the most hypocritical thing to ever come out of my mouth. “Though, it doesn’t seem like many of us get to do that anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, glancing over his shoulder to check on the clouds, which were blotting out more of the sky now. We really needed to get a move on to save his camera. Yet, he turned back to me, and asked, “What do you take your time on?”

I pursed my lips, mulling it over. What did I take my time to enjoy, anymore? Sure, I enjoyed my studies, and could easily lose myself in the details of them, but it was still something I did in part out of necessity, and not entirely for fun. “I used to like watching ballets,” I admitted, attempting to remember what it had felt like to watch one, years ago when I had in high school, “and taking time to enjoy every detail that went into making the production as a whole so breathtaking, but I’m afraid it’s been a while since I’ve done that.” I too turned to look up at the clouds now, rubbing my right forearm with my left hand. I didn’t know why admitting that one detail about myself had left me feeling so exposed - vulnerable, even - yet I found myself half tempted to find an excuse to run away from the conversation.

“Angeles has a pretty fantastic ballet company, if you ever have the time to go.” The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a grin, something sparking in his eyes as he spoke. “You could have Arin take you sometime.”

Bold of you to assume that I “could,” have Arin do anything he doesn’t explicitly want to do himself.

Despite the fact that I was beginning to wonder if Hugo and I were in fact referring to the same person when we said, “Arin,” I found myself smiling at the idea. “I would quite like that, if he ever has the chance. He seems pretty busy, usually, though.” When he’s not drinking, or kissing girls. “Not that I can blame him! It’s just difficult to get to know someone when you’ve only accidentally bumped into them twice, and been on one date that was more a series of unfortunate incidents than it was a date.”

God, why was I telling him this?

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t catch what you mean, sorry.”

That was probably for the better. I waved my hand through the air as best I could while still holding my shoes. They bounced against each other, the sound of them knocking together hollower than I had thought it would be. “Don’t worry about it! The ballet sounds lovely, and I really hope I get the chance to go at some point.”

“Just ask him,” he reiterated, flashing me a reassuring smile, “it can’t hurt.”

“Fair enough,” I said with a nervous laugh. Maybe he was right. Was it worth the risk, though, was the question holding me back.

Something wet landed on my arm then, prompting me to stop where I stood, only a few meters away from the palace doors. Rain. When was the last time I had felt the rain on my skin? May, maybe? Definitely sometime before I had come to Angeles. That felt like so much longer than only a little over a month ago.

Beside me, Hugo had stopped as well, looking up at the sky as a few drops landed on his face. A stop and smell the roses kind of guy, indeed. That much was painfully obvious now. I looked away, revelling in the feeling of the rain on my own face. Without even thinking, I wandered a little further away from the doors, walking in a small circle as I looked upwards at the clouds. I had never noticed how much I had taken something as simple as the rain for granted.

“As much as I’d love to stay out here in the rain, my camera wouldn’t.”

I spun around to look back at him, my skirt swirling around me as I did, only to find him staring right back at me, a small smile on his face. “Right, of course.” I felt myself begin to blush again, though I was doing my best to convince myself that the blood wasn’t rushing to my face simply at the thought of him watching me as I was lost in thought. I walked over towards the doors, intent on getting the door for him, since he was holding something valuable, and I only had my shoes in my hands, which I should probably put back on now, anyways. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the rain, and I got a little distracted.”

“You can stay, if you like,” he offered, shrugging and then laughing a little. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your chance to see the rain.”

I shook my head as I reached for the door handle. As much as I would have liked to stay in the rain, I knew it would be a poor decision to do so. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t. I’m afraid there’s other things I should be doing instead.” A certain policy proposal was still sitting on my laptop, having undergone only one round of edits thus far. I really wanted it to be as good as I could possibly make it, if only to make a lasting impression on whoever was judging our proposals. Maybe they’d put in a good word for me. That’d be nice.

“Well, then hopefully it rains again sometime when you don’t have things to do.”

I looked down, attempting to hide my frown at his words as I opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open with one hand for him to grab. What did he mean by that? Did I really seem that obsessed with the rain? It was probably nothing. I was probably overthinking it. “One of these days, maybe.”

I let go of the door once I felt that he had grabbed it. “Thank you,” he said from behind me. I turned to face him then, watching him shake his head like a dog in an effort to dislodge some of the raindrops that lingered in his hair as the door closed shut behind him.

I brushed my fingers through my own hair, smiling a bit as I watched him. What an odd man. Still, he was rather nice, and that was very much appreciated. “Well, I know that didn’t go exactly as planned, but thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he responded, smiling as well. “I really appreciate how willing you were to help out.”

I felt my smile widen a bit, even as I slowly began to back down the hallway, clasping my hands in front of me. “Right, well, I should probably get going, but thank you again!”

“Have a good rest of your day, Evalin.” He turned to head down the hallway in another direction, looking over his shoulder at the last moment to add, “I'll see you around.”

“You too!” I turned away then, intent on making it up to my room and changing out of my slightly damp dress as quickly as possible. My thoughts kept flitting from Hugo’s words, to the advice he had given me about asking Arin to take me to the ballet, and then back to the work I should undoubtedly be doing instead of thinking of all this. Maybe I could multitask, though - write Arin a letter, and then get some work done as I waited for his reply. Yes, that seemed reasonable.

As soon as I was changed into a dry, more casual dress, and no longer wearing heels, I began drafting my letter to Arin. A letter seemed like the way to go - it was more polite than just barging into his office unannounced, that was for sure. Plus, it gave Julia the time to braid my hair as I wrote, which was probably for the better, since my hair had gotten more unruly than usual, after getting wet. I smiled down at my letter after finishing, looking it over briefly for any spelling errors.

Your Highness,

You never did get around to giving me your book recommendations. We should rectify that quickly, I think.

Sincerely,

Lady Evalin

PS - I have some questions about local marine life, if you have a moment or two to entertain them.

Hugo’s comments about Arin being knowledgeable about marine life had stuck with me. It would be kind of nice to see Arin speak passionately about something other than his woes or his own moral dilemmas. Seeing him so enthralled by my notes in the library had been fun, for sure, but that had been more of my passion than his. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a topic that got him talking like my work got me talking.

Satisfied with my letter, I smiled at Christina, beckoning her closer with a hand gesture. As she approached, I folded the letter in half, smiling at her again before handing the letter to her. “Could you please take this to the prince?”

Christina raised an eyebrow back at me, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “The prince? Why, of course, Evalin! It would be my pleasure.”

I laughed a little, drumming my fingers along the top of my computer and saying a quick, “Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” as she departed.

Julia had just finished with my hair, and I had barely even gotten my computer booted up when Christina scurried back in, stopping beside me and placing a small, folded square of paper on my keyboard. Her grin was infectious, and I found myself chuckling as I unfolded the letter.

Evalin,

What kind of book are you looking for?

P.S. I’m not an expert on marine life but if you’d like to ask me I’ll do my best to answer.

-Arin

I had to snort a little at his formatting. What fool put the post-script before signing his name? Still, it was nice of him to offer to answer. Pulling out another sheet of paper from my desk drawer, I quickly scrawled a reply, before folding it and handing it to Christina to repeat the process again.

Arin,

I believe you said you could recommend some books on history?

The marine life part came up in a recent conversation where I asked somebody about whether or not there are razor clams on the beaches here, and I was advised to ask you.

Thank you in advance,

Evalin

Mentioning Hugo by name felt wrong, somehow, as if admitting I had spoken with Arin’s cousin would somehow put Arin on edge. I knew it was ridiculous to think that, but I still couldn’t help but feel like I should be careful about dropping names.

Christina returned with Arin’s reply in a matter of minutes. It appeared I wasn’t going to get much editing done on my proposal, at this rate.

Evalin,

“2024: Wallis’ War” might be an interesting place to start. It gives you a peek into what life was before Illéa.

As for razor clams, no. The furthest south you can find them is about 20 miles north of the Angeles and Sonage border.

-Arin

I quickly wrote the name of the book down on a post-it note, and then pulled out another paper to write a reply.

Arin,

I’m assuming I’d be able to find this book in the library? It sounds quite interesting! Might I send some light reading your way while I’m there - only if you’re interested, of course!

Ah, sad about the clams!

Thank you for your reply,

Evalin

I truly wasn’t sure where I had even planned on going with the line of questioning about the razor clams. Was I going to drag him out to the beach with me, to watch me laugh as they squirted up water? How ridiculous! It was probably for the better that they weren’t native to this area.

Evalin,

Yes.

-Arin

I assumed that his reply was to both of my questions. It looked like I was going to the library, then. With a small sigh, I closed my laptop, rubbing my hands on dress once before picking the post-it note with the book title off my desk. Life before Illéa. It was such a strange concept to me. Obviously, I knew Illéa hadn’t been a country since the dawn of time, but 2024 didn’t sound like it was that long ago, if I was being honest. It was only six years before my father was born. Had he been alive before the creation of Illéa? I frowned, wrinkling my nose as I realized that I’d never thought about that before.

It didn’t take me long to find the book once I got to the library. Despite the gargantuan size of the palace library, it was still organized using the same system as every other library I had been to during my lifetime. The book itself seemed decent in size - not huge, but thick enough to keep me busy for a couple of days, for sure. Once the book was safely tucked under my arm, I made my way over to where I expected the scientific journals to be. Arin had seemed somewhat interested in my notes, the last time we had spoken. Maybe he’d enjoy some of my the work I had helped publish under Proctor.

I knelt down, immediately finding the first two articles I had contributed to. Those were the two I had expected to find. Both of them - one with a red cover, and the other with a blue cover - contained the results of experiments that Proctor had come up with. I had merely helped her with the analysis and by proofreading her findings, once she had written them up. I was almost surprised to find the third, though. It’s black cover caught my eye just as I was about to turn around and stand again. That journal contained the results of an experiment that I had come up with, that I had practically begged Proctor to let me run in her lab, under her guidance, of course. It hadn’t been a success by any big, discernable margins, but having her say yes to my proposed experiment had still been one of my proudest moments to date. I quickly snagged that journal off the shelf too, stacking the three journals on top of the book Arin had recommended me.

I debated just heading back to my room, and having Christina just run the journals down to Arin’s office along with another note. It wasn’t like they were particularly heavy - they were rather flimsy, as a matter of fact. Yet, I still felt a pang of guilt about making her run what would likely turn into yet another chain of messages between Arin and I. It was probably just easier for me to bring him the journals myself.

I stopped outside the door of his office, taking a deep breath. He had seemed so adamant about not wanting me in his office the night we had drank bourbon together in the hallway. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to turn back now, though. I knocked three times, staring at the door as I waited to see if it would open.

“Come in!”

It seemed he wasn’t going to come get the door, then. With a small frown, I juggled the books in my hands, shifting them so they were held up by my left hip and arm, opening the door with my right hand. Arin was sitting at his desk, his head down, pen in hand.

Oh, crap. I just hoped whatever he was working on wasn’t classified, or super important.

I kept my voice soft as I spoke, taking care to close the door as quietly as possible. “Hi,” I began, tossing a timid smile in his direction, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I came by to drop off the reading I mentioned to you earlier. There’s three different articles in these journals that I contributed to, and since you seemed interested in my notes and textbook the last time I saw you, I thought you might be interested in these, too.”

At the sound of my voice, he looked up, his eyes going wide for the briefest moment as he shot to his feet so quickly I thought he might knock over his chair. “Evalin,” was all he said, brushing his hands on his pants.

I felt my own eyes go wide as I laughed a little at the speed with which he had risen to his feet. It was rather entertaining how startled he always seemed to be by my presence. First in the library, now this. A small part of me hoped it would become a consistent pattern.

“I’ll be sure to be clearer about when I’m coming by next time, I suppose.” Taking a moment to shuffle the books I was holding, I tucked the book he had recommended me under my arm again, and then held the three academic journals out towards him.

He seemed a bit fidgety as he made his way around his desk, coming to a stop in front of me and taking the journals from my hand. What had he been working on before this? What had I interrupted? I was more curious now, seeing his reaction, than I had been before.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt you in the middle of something too important!” I was being genuine, in the sense that I had had no intention of disrupting work that required his utmost attention, but I also kind of hoped that by saying something, I might be able to get him to explain his nervousness, a bit. I had to wonder why he was acting so on edge as it was. He had been the one to tell me to come in, after all. Regardless, it was still fun to see him caught off guard yet again. “I could just go, if you’d like! I just wanted to drop these off for you!”

He looked down at the books that were now in his hands. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem!” I laughed a little again, more nervous this time, but then shook my head. He hadn’t asked or told me to leave, after all. I looked over his shoulder towards his desk, narrowing my eyes at the papers that sat atop it, as if I would somehow be able to make out what was written on them from this distance. “What were you working on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh,” he began, glancing over his shoulder at his desk before turning to face me again. “Nothing interesting.”

Fine, then. I supposed he was entitled to his secrets.

“Ah okay, just curious! Wanted to make sure I hadn’t interrupted anything important!” I’d already said that, hadn’t I? Shoot! I must have looked like a total fool, desperate for attention.

“Nothing that can’t be done later,” he reassured me, nodding at the journals I had given him. “Besides, this is much more interesting, I’m sure.”

“Ah, it may be!” I offered him a sheepish smile, hoping I hadn’t completely misread his interest in my notes in the library that day. Was he actually genuinely interested in my work, in what I was studying, or had he just been looking for an excuse to kiss me? Perhaps I was a bigger fool than I had thought. Still, the hole I had dug myself was too deep for me to climb out of now. “I only assisted in the articles my professor published in the first two, but I actually came up with the experiment in the third one - the journal with the black cover. I practically had to beg her to let me run it! I bought her coffee, did her busywork, ran her scantrons - anything to get her to say yes!” A small laugh escaped my mouth as I reminisced about those few weeks. Proctor had to have known what I was doing. I was terrible at deceit. I wore my true intentions all over my face every time I interacted with someone, I was afraid. She had still given me the go-ahead in the end, though, so I supposed that all’s well that ends well, and all that.

“That’s dedication,” Arin acknowledged, raising his eyebrows. He then turned away for a moment, setting the journals on his desk in a neat pile, aligning them just-so, similar to how he had carefully placed his book on the library table all those days ago. I was so fascinated by his near obsessive precision that I almost didn’t hear him add, “I’m not sure I’d have the same level of persistence.”

The corners of my lips tugged further upwards at the compliment. He was really feeding my ego today, it seemed. “I was really passionate about that experiment. I thought it’d be the greatest thing since sliced bread, I swear.” I chuckled a little at my own joke. I had come damn close to letting that experiment consume me, if I was being honest, practically living in Proctor’s lab for a couple of months. I would likely never do that again, I realized, my smile falling as I let the thought sink in, even as I continued rambling. “We didn’t think it all the way through, though - like how hard it would be to apply what we did in the lab in an actual human body - so there’s still a lot of future research to be done.” Future research that I likely won’t be allowed to assist in, despite coming up with the original idea. I’d brought that upon myself though, ultimately.

“What’s it on?” He asked, leaning back against his desk.

“Cancer research,” I answered without thinking, my eyes darting between him and the journal for a moment. Was it worth attempting to explain it to him? Looking back at him again, I decided to go for it. “The theory behind it was that maybe if we removed the gene in cancer cells that codes for their rapid reproduction, and inserted the gene that codes for apoptosis - spontaneous cell death - maybe we could stop or slow the spread of the cancer.”

He blinked. That alone told me that there was no way he had completely understood what I had said, but he nodded along regardless. “You think it could work?”

“In theory, yes. In actuality, probably not,” I admitted, shaking my head. “It would be extremely difficult to target individual cells within a person’s body. One solution I proposed to my professor was that maybe we could introduce some virus cells that would only target the cancer cells - like HIV targets immune cells only, kind of - and see if that would kill off the cancer cells. I’d bet actual money that she’s working to put her name to that idea right now.” Even though, once again, I was the one who came up with it. I laughed a little wryly, wondering how I had put up with Proctor’s behavior for as long as I had as I gazed at the journals.

Arin simply nodded. “Well, that’s a shame, then. It could so a lot of people good.”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking back at him then, “that was my hope.” With a shake of my head, decided to change the subject, flashing him a closed-lipped half smile. “But back to your previous point, about persistence - you mean to tell me that there has never been anything you felt like you would do whatever it took to achieve?” The concept of someone not feeling that passionate about anything seemed impossible.

“Anything I want to do will always be on the back burner,” he replied with a shrug. Right, I hadn’t considered that. Maybe that’s why he was so insistent on finding a wife, after all - he needed someone to relieve him of some of his workload, so he could pursue something he actually enjoyed, for once. That would likely be good for him, if I was being honest. He continued, oblivious to the thoughts churning in my mind. “At least for now. So, I find it's not efficient to focus on it too much.”

I offered him a sympathetic smile, close to offering him my help so he might be able to explore his own interests. Something held me back, though. That might be too much too fast. He was a hard nut to crack, and I didn’t feel like ruining what little progress I had made in getting to know him. “That makes sense. I tend to get the same way with work.” I gestured towards the journals I had given him, a single laugh escaping my lips before I added, “I think I saw my professor more than I saw my parents when we were running those experiments. Though in my case, I still definitely wanted to do them.”

“Well, you should try being employed by your parents. It’s interesting, to say the least.”

Ah, right, that. I hadn’t considered that, and yet, now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t help but wonder if we had more in common than we thought. I angled my head slightly away from him before admitting, “In a sense, I am. My professor and my father are co-heads of the biology department at my university, and both of them have to sign off on any students working in the labs, and place them in a position that corresponds to their interests. I just got lucky that my father and I aren’t interested in the same subfield.” I shook my head, looking down for a moment. Okay, maybe I had been wrong. Maybe we weren’t as similar as I thought. I met his gaze again, adding, “I can’t imagine how it must be for you, though.”

He shrugged. “I can’t imagine how it would be otherwise.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes at him with curiosity as I inclined my head a bit to the right. “I take it you’re not someone that deals in hypotheticals, then.”

“Hypothetically, if anything was different then I wouldn't be me.”

A simple enough answer, and one that I could get behind, I realized as I shook my head. “No, that’s fair. I feel the same way.” I should say something more, to show him that I understand. The only example that was coming to mind, however, was the conversation I had had with Proctor the day before I had left for Angeles. Was it worth the risk to mention it? I bit my lip, attempting to come up with a way to word it that wouldn’t sound incriminating. I may not like Proctor at this point in time, but I didn’t want her ideas on the caste system to get us both in trouble, somehow. I would not let that woman take me down with her. “My professor asked me once what I would want to do with my life if I could choose absolutely any path, regardless of how realistic it was, and I swear it was like my mind just shut down. I just can’t really imagine being anything other than myself, you know?” I shook my head again. He must have thought that I was insane.

“I’m sure I could imagine it if I really tried,” he admitted, “but there’s no point in wasting time on impossible things.”

“Agreed,” I said simply, nodding once before biting the inside of my cheek. “But in a sense, everything is theoretically impossible, until it’s done. I mean, that’s how most technological advances are made, but that’s different, I suppose.” I shrugged, glancing back up at Arin. I was rambling again. I needed to figure out how to stop myself from doing that. It was getting out of hand. Exhaling through my nose, I decided to continue regardless. “It’s a shame that the world exists in nuanced shades of grey instead of clear-cut black and white. It’d make some things so much easier.”

“Grey is a perfectly wonderful color,” he replied with a soft smile.

I mirrored his expression, turning his words over and over again in my mind. “I suppose I’ll have to search for more pleasing shades of grey, then.”

For whatever reason, Hugo’s advice popped back into my mind at that moment, maybe because Hugo seemed like the kind of person who could see the hidden beauty in anything. I could hear his voice clearly, urging me that it couldn’t hurt to at least ask Arin if he would take me to the ballet. Was it worth the risk - to get my hopes up, only to have him potentially shoot them back down? Or maybe Hugo knew something about Arin that I didn’t. He was Arin’s cousin, after all.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

I looked back up at Arin, my head still inclined slightly to the right. “There was something else I wanted to ask you as well.”

He blinked once, a look of surprise flashing across his face. “What?”

Here goes nothing.

“Okay, well, I’m kind of spitballing here, but,” I stopped mid-sentence to take a deep breath, attempting to pull myself together, “theoretically, if I asked you to take me to the Angeles ballet - if you had the time, of course - would you say yes?”

I really was terrible at hiding my intentions, I realized yet again, as I smiled up at him with a glimmer of hope that he might say yes. My nerves got the best of me as I watched him tense up, and then let out a sigh.

Oh, no. It had not been worth it. Why had I thought it was a good idea to take Hugo’s advice? I had thought it was ridiculous the first time I had heard it! I should’ve trusted my instincts.

“Evalin,” Arin began. I felt my heart drop in my chest. “That’s not really my sort of thing.”

I knew my face had fallen, and I scrambled to cover it up before he noticed, in a vain attempt to save any shred of my pride I had left. What had I been thinking? I nodded once, my mind reaching for words that felt completely foreign at the moment. “Understood. Just thought I’d throw it out there, but, uh, forget it, I guess!”

“Sorry,” was all he said in reply, dropping my gaze.

Oh, God, what had I done? The little progress we had made towards getting closer was all falling to shreds right in front of me. I was such a fool.

I shook my head, offering him the best impression of a reassuring smile I could muster up at the moment. “No, no need to apologize! It was a silly idea to begin with,” I lied, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Arin wasn’t someone I could count on to not let me down. I should’ve known as much by now.

“Maybe you could see if Safiya would want to go with you,” he offered, glancing back at me. “That’s up her alley.”

I was pretty sure Safiya was away for the week on some trip or another, if I remembered correctly, and the thought of asking her was borderline mortifying, considering we weren’t very close, but I offered Arin a small smile regardless. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Pointing over my shoulder at the door with my thumb, I added, “Anyways, I should probably get going. I’ve still got some work to finish.”

Arin nodded, pushing himself off his desk, to his feet. “Oh, yeah, of course. I shouldn’t keep you.”

We had really reversed our roles over the course of this conversation, it appeared.

“Right.” I slowly began to back towards the door, sliding the book he had recommended me out from under my arm and into my hands, holding it in front of me as I took another step. “Sorry again for interrupting. I’ll see you around, then.”

“It’s fine, really,” he reiterated, quickly walking towards the door himself. I stopped dead in my tracks, watching him as he made his way closer to me, brushing past me as he closed in on the door and opened it. “Don’t worry about it.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, offering him one last smile and a nod as I walked towards the door. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else, but then clamped it shut. So this was it, then. What a rocky conversation this had been. I just smiled at him one last time before quickly making my way down the hallway, not waiting to hear the door close behind me. I just needed to get back to my room. I just needed to lose myself in this proposal that was due soon. That was the best use of my time. The least I could do was make sure I sounded more intelligent on paper than I did in person.

The proposal couldn’t be any worse than that conversation had been, at the very least. I had that much going for me. Now I just had to hope my idea for the policy wasn’t as silly or fantastical as the ideas I had had during that conversation.