"Brandon, please behave! For once on one trip, do not be a sour puss and leave the girl crying. You are a fine looking young man, but soon enough you will be too old to find a proper wife.” Tyler re-gave his speech to his superior friend. These trips were not his cup of tea, but word about Prince Brandon's behavior had gotten around and most royals did not want to waste money on him. The only way Brandon could see a blue blooded girl was to go enter her and her family's territory.
A quiet ring interrupted the silence. It came from Tyler's coat pocket.
“Hello?” Tyler dropped his voice a notch in hopes that Brandon would lose interest in him.
Across the sea - “Hey honey! How's the trip going?”
“Madison!” Relief swept over Tyler instantly. “I miss you already! How are the children?” Brandon's interest climbed until he heard 'children'. This particular subject of Tyler's no longer interested him ever since the mush call immediately after their marriage. Brandon returned to his sulking pose.
“Oh they're good. Have you seen the news?” Madison leaned over her three year old Micah and typed in 'www.globalnews.com' in the browser which erased Micah's game.
“No, I have not seen a screen since I left you, Micah, and Marissa at the airport! Why?”
“Brandon's in the Global again. They are saying that if he is not married soon, then The Queen may disinherit him. Please, find the poor boy a girl soon!”
“Do you think that I am not trying?”... Tyler planned his next sentence at a lower volume and without any details. “Do you think that She will do what they are saying?” It was not low enough. Brandon came back to the story.
“Who knows? I don't know her.” Madison played her favorite 'I don't know card' “It's not like she's my friend on facebook!”
“Thanks dear. I will be back in Hounslow before you know it! Give Micah and Marissa my love! Goodbye honey!”
“I'm praying for you both! Goodbye sweetie!” Madison put her phone down and grabbed her two year old daughter off of the counter.
“Who will do what who said?” Brandon's sleepy eyes were suddenly wide open.
“Uh, er, I was wondering if our neighbor, Jessica, was having an abortion like Madison's knitting club said. She is not though.” Awkward silence stifled the air in the rented Jaguar. “Okay, I have a plan. You be nice to this girl today, and I will put in a good word for a gold plated iphone for you. You get to know her for a week, and I may look into getting your Mercedes back. You hang out with her for a month and you get all of the above plus three weeks away from any royal girls. Deal?”
Curiosity lingered in Brandon's eyes. Tyler was a straightforward kind of guy, but this seemed out of the ordinary... “Why the bribes?” Brandon's left eyebrow raised slowly.
“No special reason... do we have a deal?” Tyler bit his lip a little bit. Brandon and Tyler's matching blue eyes found each other. A twinge of guilt forced Tyler to look at his phone and try to get internet service.
“Fine, But I want this in writing before I commit to anything!”
“Yes sir. I will tell the librarian at the Lexington Palace to print a contract up.” Tyler rolled his eyes with Brandon's doggedness about his situation. A contract for being nice to a girl? The average 18 year old boy needs a contract to stay away from a girl! Tyler flipped his dinosaur phone open again and called the home of the Lexington Royal Family.
The countryside flew by at 130 kilometers an hour. Brandon did not see much of anything but a green and blue blur. The chauffeur pulled off of the highway into the capital of Filemonia. The city was itself a sight for any tourist, but to an 18 year old boy in a Jaguar, on his way to see the granddaughter of the queen, it was another city with another bunch of fascinated people.
Suddenly, a magnificent grey brick castle loomed above the city. Five turrets marked points along the outer wall, and there were nine towers connected to the ginormous palace. The castle screamed old world to the modern streets below. Buckingham Palace had nothing on this place!
“Whoa!” An ominous sound flowed from the prince's mouth. “Tyler. We would not have had any difficulty in finding this place. This is glorious!”
The now dwarfed Jaguar crawled up to the wrought iron gates. Painted in a dark purple, the gates themselves were a piece of art. The curves and bends were irreplaceable. A small box containing an intercom threw off the 19th century feel.
“Prince Brandon and his escort.” Brandon's chauffeur spoke perfectly in Danish as did Prince Brandon.
“I will need some evidence.” The box replied as expected.
“The queen does not watch television.” The password was a silly one in Brandon's opinion, but it was true for both queens, so it worked well.
“Enter.” A small 'beep' emitted from the intercom, and the gates welcomed the gentlemen.
Brandon was the first out of the car. The chauffeur grunted when he saw that he had missed the door for his employer. Brandon rushed to the back before Tyler had even hung up his phone. Brandon hoisted out all four suitcases and snatched a small satchel from the back of the trunk.
While running past the first tower and around the corner, Brandon yelled back to his personal driver, “would you get my bags Charles? I have something that I simply must do.” Once he saw the stable, he was out of site.
Tyler got out with a look of frustration. Brandon's contract had made him miss the grand entrance. That was one of the only reasons that Tyler liked these trips. The librarian had said that she would have the contract written up and printed out before they could locate the library in the castle. Tyler sighed and viewed the world around him. Green grass, large brick walls, beautiful fruit trees, a ginormous palace, and Charles lugging Prince Brandon's suitcases up the stairs.
Tyler paused.
Brandon always carried his own bags. Ever since he was seven years old and his old chauffeur, Henry, had spilled all of Brandon's underwear on his female, private school teacher's shoes; in front of the entire class. It was a month until the boy came back to school.
“Charles! Where is the prince?” Tyler could not understand where Brandon could have gone.
“He took off sir. While you were still in the car sir. He unloaded his luggage sir, and grabbed a satchel sir. I do not know where he went sir, except that he went around that corner sir.” Charles huffed with each 'sir'. Sweat sat on Charles shiny, bald head.
“I will be back for my things Charles, do not bother with them. You have enough work there as it is.” Tyler put his phone in his pocket and took a walk around the corner.
In an empty stall, Prince Brandon found in his satchel, a pair of rugged shorts, a red t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, a belt with teeth marks all over, worn out boots, and a ruby, long haired wig. He covered his short blond hair and dumped his fancy clothes before a horse neighed.
Tyler looked into the stable and saw one lone worker. He looked as if he had just begun work as he had no stains on his clothes. “Boy!” The man's shoulders tensed.
“Yes sir?” Brandon tried to mask his voice. He could only hope that the noise of the horses stomping, chewing, and swishing their tails would muffle it.
“Have you seen a young man come by here?”
“No sir.” Brandon dug his shoulder into the rough shovel. Brandon hoped with all of his might that he was using the clumsy tool correctly.
“Thank you boy.” Tyler stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and continued his walk. Brandon waited until Tyler was out of sight and then attempted to clean himself off. He then proceeded to use the servant entrance to get a good view of this divine place.
Brandon wandered around, taking in the beauty of yet another castle, when he ran into the kitchen and laundry room. At least one hundred servants bustled about doing their work. Brandon did not want someone to do a double take when they saw him and let everyone know that a stranger was wandering the grounds, so he took the first turn. Unfortunately this turn was directly behind four men arranged in a square. One in the front remarking on the unfurnished hallway, one taking notes, and two either protecting or waiting to be called upon. Brandon shrunk back and waited for an opening in the walls. Finally a dim hallway revealed itself.
“That must be renovated or blocked off.” The man taking notes paused to look at the corridor and continued scribbling the man's words.
Brandon walked down the barren hallway for a moment when he heard heavy panting. His first instincts were to run, but to where? Outside of this hallway was a pokey group of note-takers and a large group of people who would recognize that they did not recognize Brandon at all. He followed the breathing as quietly as he could until it stopped. He decided to continue to go the way he had been and hope to run into the panter. In the dark he could make out a door frame. Brandon slid into a small landing. A long spiral staircase wound it's way past his vision. Near the stairs was a heavy wooden lever. As any normal human being would do, Brandon used all of his strength and pulled it down. A loud 'Clank!' sounded through the tower.
Brandon waited, stunned at the bottom of the steps.
“Drat!” Brandon had not said anything. A soft muttering noise echoed down the stairs.
With a light step, Brandon made his way up the stairs in order that he might see who or what was hiding in this tower.
As the stairs climbed, an iron door revealed itself as did a long and slender girl slumped on the floor. Her legs reached across the hallway in an eloquent fashion.
Lynnea looked up from her depressed position to see a halfway muscular man staring at her. His vibrant red hair fell across his dark blue eyes. His soft, manicured hands reached for hers. She slipped her hand into his and smiled. He helped her up gently.
“I am sorry. I did n- didn't know that the lever would do this to you. I a- I'm sorry.” Brandon tried to hide his English accent as he spoke in the girl's native Danish tongue. He tried the sound of contractions. He could not believe that people used them. They sounded awful.
“Oh, it was my fault! This has happened to me before.” Lynnea did her best to drop her 'I-am-better-than-everyone' attitude. She was thankful for the lack of silence. That meant that he had less time to decide that she was not a common worker.
“Really?” Keep talking boy! If you pause she will see that you have never worked with anything but girl weights. “When? What happened?” Brandon eased down on the step to the position of a four year old waiting for a story.
Lynnea had a silent freak-out moment. Uh, a servant with only one classmate and a private tutor who is still teaching her? Ha! That is likely! “Well, um, I was eleven years old, and my mother was, uh, working. I was bored and started wandering with this kid. We had to hang out because our parents would not let us roam by ourselves. We were pretending that we were escape convicts and Mr. er, my sister, um, Sonja was the prison guard. She chased us down this same hall. Well, the kid, he told me to go up in the tower to hide and he would follow. I listened and took to the stairs. I was halfway up when the iron door that you see here came down.”
“He shut you in?”
“No, um, I... guess... he, he did! He locked me in!” Brandon grasped every word. “Well, I ran down the few stairs to the gate and he was not in sight. I called for help but no one came. I waited in here for at least an hour before he showed up. Then he said he would get help for me. I waited for half of an hour and then I fell asleep. I woke up to a retired, guard worker. He said he was inspecting the wing when he saw the open door. I asked him if he had seen the kid. He said no and helped me out. My family never knew what happened.”
“Wow! You have some adventures! Nothing has ever happened to me. Except disguise myself as a, uh, waiter so that I didn't have to go on a blind date!” Brandon panicked for a moment. The 'uh' threw off his act a little.
“Tell me about it!” The boy and girl switched positions. Now Lynnea waited eagerly for the story and Brandon panicked while he tried to think of a good make up story.
“Well, I was being pushed around by my friends and family to find a girlfriend. My buddy, um, Erik, was pushing me the most. He followed me on dozens of blind dates. One day I was sick of it and I decided I wasn't even going to meet her, so I got a uniform from the scheduled place, and brought it with me. Erik and I showed up a little bit early so I had time to go change. Erik was busy at his table and my table was empty. I came back and got to hang out in a completely different environment. I got stuck actually working and for free no less when I ran into this gorgeous girl. I got to serve her for the whole night. I didn't even see my date the entire time because I was so busy taking care of the mystery girl. I didn't even get her name.” Say something witty or cute. “I hope that does not happen again.”
Lynnea blanked. What was a name of a servant? “Elsa, my name is Elsa.” Lynnea silently hoped that he did not know her personal stylist. “ What about you?”
“Um, Valdemar.” Brandon only knew four Scandinavian names, and three of them could not be used. Erik, Thurston, and Christoffer.
Valdemar? This kid's name is Valdemar? Keep your face happy Lynnea, just do it! Brandon saw Lynnea's nose twitch just a fraction.
Did I say something wrong? “Um, most people call me Val. My mother thought that Valdemar sounded very masculine, but I never liked it that much.” Lynnea's twitch faded and her smile looked normal once more.
The conversation continued for a few more minutes until Lynnea got the courage to ask what had been on her mind since “Val” first started speaking. “Are you from around here?” Lynnea had not gotten around Filemonia too much, but his accent was distinctly different than the rest of her servants'.
“Uh, well, not... really. I, uh,” What do I say?
“Hey!” Brandon and Lynnea looked expectantly at the downwards stairs. “Who's up there?” A woman's voice flew towards the two people halfway up the stairs. Brandon took Lynnea's hand and kissed it like a gentleman.
“Until next time then?” Brandon left the astounded young girl on the stairs.
"Goodbye sir!" Lynnea did not know what it was about this boy but he gave her something to look forward to. If only she were a servant.
At the bottom of the stairs, Brandon explained Lynnea's situation. “Hello madame. The young girl up there, she is stuck behind a set of bars but I do not believe that she is supposed to be there. If you could help her please, I believe that she has work to do.” Brandon quickly explained why he was there and dashed off before the fair lady could ask any questions. On his way out of the castle of possible questioners, Brandon ran into none other than Tyler Bullham.
“Watch yourself!” Tyler shouted.
Brandon lowered his head. “Yes sir.” He tried to shuffle around his friend.
“Wait, you are the stable boy! Why are you indoors? You could not have worked for more than an hour! Who is your superior?” Tyler grabbed Brandon's ear causing his face to be tilted more in Tyler's direction. “Do I know you?” Brandon thanked the theater department for allowing him to borrow a long haired wig.
“Uh, no sir?” Brandon knew that any more questions and his English accent might bleed through his Danish. Tyler grabbed Brandon's chin with his other hand and tilted Brandon's face back. The precious wig fell to the floor.
“Brandon! I have been looking for you! Poor Charles had to carry your heavy bags up the stairs all alone. He tried to take them both at the same time! His back will be out for a month, and you are out here playing stable boy?” Tyler pushed Brandon out of the corridor and up one flight of stairs to the main floor.
“Can I at least go take a shower before you give me a lecture on my Princely duties?” Brand rolled his eyes when he mentioned 'Princely duties'. He had already heard the speech one hundred times and could recite it back if he ever felt the need to.
“Make it fast, you have to meet Princess Lynnea in one hour. I know that you have your Danish brushed up on. Keep in mind that Charles speaks Danish too and if you get stuck, he will help you.” Tyler continued to push Brandon up a second set of stairs.
An intriguing thought came to Brandon. Why do castles have so many stairs?
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