Britchester University – Chancellor’s Office
The Chancellor’s office, a dignified space adorned with academic accolades, was tense with silence. King Maximilian Cromwell and his brother-in-law Nicholas “Nick” Cameron stood side by side, arms crossed, as they listened to the Chancellor recount the events.
“I’m afraid both boys are suspended from campus for a month,” the Chancellor concluded, her tone firm. “Violence of any kind will not be tolerated, not even for our esteemed Crown Prince.” She briefly pointed at a large portrait of William in his full regalia on the wall, next to separate portraits of King Maximilian and Queen Aria Grace. “I will give you all a moment to discuss this among yourselves, but I expect the two young gentlemen to have cleared their rooms by 3 o’clock until their return next month.”
Once the Chancellor left, the room seemed to shrink under the weight of the situation. King Maximilian looked at his son, disappointment etched into his features. Nick, known for his sharp tongue and impatience, was fuming as he whacked his son, Ryan, on the back of the head.
“Seriously now, kid? Your mother and I spend obscene amounts of money to send you to the best university, and you repay us by declaring a Royal Rumble on your own cousin in his father’s kingdom? Do you have bird nests where your brain should be?!” Nick scolded, his voice dripping with frustration.
Ryan rubbed the back of his head, muttering, “No, Daddy Dearest, but a low tolerance for his royal bullshit and fresh out of fucks to give about what anyone else thinks about all that. You know, Dad, one of these days I’m going to sue you for child abuse.”
Nick shot back, “Yeah, goodest of luck with that, kid. You are a ripe old 22 years old, grandpa! Can’t wait till you get married, so someone else can deal with your nonsense. Supposedly an adult and behaves like a 3-year-old!”
King Maximilian interjected, turning his attention to William. “What were you thinking, William? First the… well, you know, the Grace issue, and now you get suspended from campus for fighting? And with your cousin, no less! Who are you of late, son?” His voice was a mix of anger and concern.
Before William could respond, Ryan piped up, his eyes blazing. “I’ll tell you what he was thinking. Static. Absolute static. He doesn’t think, he just does whatever the fuck he wants without a care and let’s others deal with the fallout. Typical His Royal Entitled-AF-ness with his special needs BS—” but he was cut off by his father Nick whacking him in the back of the head unceremoniously again. “One more word, Ryan, and I swear, it may be your very last, kid!” he warned, effectively silencing his son. Ryan knew that his father’s anger was one thing, but facing his Tartosian mother Adrianna’s temper back home in San Myshuno while waiting out the month of suspension would be an entirely different kind of hell. She would run him ragged.
William snapped at his cousin, his eyes fiery with frustration. “Oh, just be quiet, Ryan! You haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. You get to do whatever you like, whenever you like, with whomever you like, and I’m utterly fed up with being pulled between my own desires and the endless expectations placed upon me. I long to be with Grace, to lead a normal life. You all can keep the crown and all its burdens! Give them to Ryan; he thinks he’s the king of his hill of BS, master of Drama and Disrespect anyway.”
Maximilian’s eyes widened in shock at his son’s highly unusual outburst, but before he could react, his brother-in-law Nick exploded at his nephew. “A normal life, Will? Our Crown Prince wishes a normal life? HA! You wouldn’t last one day! You mistake visiting with us, sitting your royal butt flat in the living room my father built, and the law firm I now run, which Ryan is working towards running one day, for how our daily life really looks! While you stare patterns into the air waiting for Adrianna and me to get home from work to take you out to dinner and entertain you, my wife and I are actually working, and so is Ryan when he comes home for semester breaks. And I will tell you, Ryan has his flaws. He plays hard, but he also does work hard. And now, behold, our little prince wants to live a normal life, my ass! Hate to admit it, but my son does make a good point. Sounds like your parents should hire you someone to do the thinking for you, Will, because your own attempts at thinking have been dead on arrival of late!”
King Maximilian tried to calm the situation. “Nick, let’s not—”
But Nick was relentless. “No, Max, let’s. You think I don’t know what’s up? If I hadn’t deduced it myself, you forget you are married to my sister, this brat’s mother, so I KNOW what our proper prince has been up to. And you seem to think you can discuss him back onto the right path? Ha! He needs what Addy and I tend to give Ryan whenever he acts out, a big fat juicy slice of reality! You’ve coddled him long enough. He needs a reality check like a fish needs water!”
William, seething with anger, retorted, “Like that’s hard? Get up, order your staff around, go strut around a courtroom like Matlock, then drive your big shiny new Benz from one fancy estate to the next to gloat around your clients’ homes, then go home to a wife you love and get to do whatever you like—go out, go dancing, catch a movie, go out to eat whenever and wherever you please, and you think THAT’s a rough life? Try living my life for a change.
I am oh so powerful that I need approval to leave my own home and always with at least six staff security, if not more, plus guards and whatnot. I have never been to a public movie theater or some dance club, and if I want to go to a restaurant, it requires so much planning that I just rather not! Every word I utter, every gesture I make is scrutinized by the media, and I can’t even make a simple comment without it being twisted and blown out of proportion. My friendships are always under the microscope—are they genuine, or are they just after my title? And don’t get me started on relationships! Any romantic interest I show becomes front-page news, with paparazzi hounding us everywhere we go. I have to think ten steps ahead just to avoid a scandal.
I can’t just walk down the street, go shopping, or grab a coffee like a normal person. My entire life is a performance, constantly on display for public consumption, with every mistake magnified a thousand times. And you think my life is easier? You are wrong, Uncle Nick! WRONG! And so is he!” he pointed at his cousin.
Ryan, who had been quietly seething, finally spoke up. “Oh my God, bro, you did NOT just say all that! What an entitled whiny bitch you are! All you do is attend fancy parties and wave to people. What’s there to complain about? You live in a palace with servants catering to your every whim. You never have to worry about money or where your next meal is coming from. So what if you have to take security—they go where you go. You act as if you have to ask them for permission! They follow you like hungry puppies and you are the big juicy steak!
You get to travel to exotic places for state visits and stay in the finest hotels. Every door opens for you because of who you are. You wear the best clothes, eat the best food, and have the best of everything handed to you on a silver platter. Your entire life is one big VIP experience. And you’re complaining? Try living like a commoner for once, dealing with real-world problems like bills, jobs, and finding time for family. You wouldn’t last a day.”
The boys, who normally got along superbly, kept bickering back and forth, while their two fathers exchanged a look. An idea sparked, born of frustration and a desire to teach their sons a lesson.
“Fine,” King Maximilian declared, his voice carrying an air of authority. “Since you are both so desperate to experience each other’s lives, it shall be so. For the entire month of your suspension, you two will switch places. William, you shall live as Ryan, and Ryan, you shall take on William’s responsibilities under mine and your Aunt Aria Grace’s direct supervision. Nick and I shall find some amusement in this arrangement, at the very least. William, after all the distress you have caused us recently, this is the least you can do. Perhaps this will finally grant you the enlightenment you so sorely lack, for heaven knows nothing else has worked thus far. Your poor mother and I are at our wit’s end!”
William and Ryan exchanged incredulous looks, both too stunned to speak immediately. Ryan was the first to react, crossing his arms and smirking. “This is going to be hilarious. Watching Will try to live my life is going to be comedy gold. Someone please record every second of it,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
William, still processing the decree, muttered under his breath, “The feeling is mutual. You shall soon discover that the life of a royal is far from the effortless existence you seem to image it as. Good luck, you will need it.”
Nick, catching the boys’ reactions, couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Well, this should be interesting. I suppose we’ll see if His Highness here can handle the realities of a commoner’s life. And Ryan, maybe your interim role as a prince will finally match that gigantic ego of yours.”
William’s Experience
Day One – Cameron Law Firm
It was Will’s first day at his uncle Nick’s law firm, after arriving at work together, Nick gave him a quick tour through the various departments, then handed him off to a young paralegal in a fitted suit with a name tag reading “Katherine” for his first task. Her obnoxious gum-smacking and rapid-fire chewing punctuated their silence as she led him through the bustling office. They descended to the basement, where William was greeted by a daunting sea of file cabinets and towering stacks of legal boxes. The dim fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare on the overwhelming scene.
Katherine handed him a slip of paper with a long number string scrawled on it. “We need ten,” she said curtly, turning to leave.
“Ten what, please?” William called after her, confusion evident in his voice.
Katherine rolled her eyes, smacking her gum louder. She pointed impatiently at the number on the paper, then at a nearby file cabinet bearing a similar string of numbers. “Ten copies. OMG, come. I’ll show you one. This way.” She rushed off, and William hurried to keep up.
She stopped near a huge stack of boxes, reading numbers until she finally tapped on one. “This is it. Same number. So, ten copies of everything.”
“The whole box?!” William asked, incredulous.
“OMG, no!” Katherine’s eye roll was almost audible. “Thank God. I thought … oh!” His relief was short-lived when she tapped on six other boxes, then opened a file cabinet and signaled to a row of hanging folders. “Ten copies of everything. Keep everything together just as it is here. Staple what’s stapled—oh, and since you seem to need to be told, remove all staples before copying, then put them back in. So, now you get it?”
“ALL THAT?! That will take days!” William exclaimed.
“You got till lunch. The truck will come to pick up. They need it in court tomorrow morning and it needs to be distributed.”
“But why so many?!”
“It’s called Discovery. The other side demanded it, and if the judge approves, we have to share what they want. Everyone involved gets a copy. Get to it. Nick gets REALLY mad if we miss deadlines. Could cost him the case.”
The tasks seemed endless. After several copier malfunctions and drama, William finally completed the job and dragged himself into his uncle’s office, collapsing onto the couch, exhausted.
Nick chuckled, grabbed his coat, pulled a second one off the hanger, and tossed it at his nephew. “Get that royal butt up, kiddo. We got places to be.”
“I am not hungry.”
“Perfect, we don’t have time for lunch. We have an appointment. Come on, I’ll read you in on the way.”
“Read me in? On what? What does that even mean?”
“Means you get to use that royal charm and diplomacy your dad always talks about to help me convince a judge to give us an extension.”
“If that was an option, why did I have to make all those copies?”
“Different case, kid. Chop chop.”
In the judge’s chambers, Judge Morrison glared grimly at the two but said nothing. When William tried to speak, his uncle stopped him, shaking his head, whispering, “Do not speak until spoken to.”
When the judge finally addressed them, William winced.
“New face. Doesn’t look very seasoned,” Judge Morrison commented, frowning.
Nick cleared his throat. “He isn’t. Just helping out. It’s my nephew.”
“Does the nephew have a name?” the judge inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“William, Sir,” Will croaked, his voice barely audible.
“Alright, how can I help you today, William? Get cracking, I have places to be,” Judge Morrison said, his impatience showing.
“We need … umm … an extension please,” William stammered, his nerves getting the better of him.
“On what?” the judge asked, looking unimpressed.
“The … umm …” William struggled to find the name, so his uncle helped out, “The Parsons case, Your Honor.”
“Ah. And why, one might wonder? Date’s been set for months,” Judge Morrison questioned, eyeing William critically.
“Because we … umm …” Panicked, William looked at his uncle for assistance.
Nick stepped in, his tone confident. “Your Honor, you see, we have been trying to gather all the …”
“Counsel, I was speaking to this here young man. Does he not know what he is asking for? Never been before a judge before, son?” Judge Morrison interrupted, cutting Nick off.
“No, Sir,” William admitted, feeling the weight of the judge’s scrutiny.
“Well, at least you’re not hiring criminals, Cameron,” the judge remarked dryly.
Nick took over and eventually got the extension, but not until he flooded the judge with words.
Walking to the car, William’s head was spinning, his stomach growling. Nick smoothly slid into the driver seat, while William fell very unroyally into the passenger seat.
As they started navigating through the parking garage, William could barely keep his eyes open. He closed them briefly, and his uncle snapped his fingers at him. “Hey, stay with me, Will. We need to get to court and I can’t have you looking half asleep.”
“Court? You didn’t say anything about court. Didn’t we just come from there? Now we have to go back?!” William exclaimed, his face paling.
Nick, glancing at his phone in the holder, responded, “I didn’t know I was going to court. I got a text from the office. And no, not the same, a different court house this time. Where we came from is Family Court. Now we get to go to Criminal Court. One of my attorneys is stuck in another hearing and can’t make it, so I gotta take over. Here, use my phone and pull up Google Maps and find the nearest place for copies. We need to print stuff and make copies.”
“No! Not more copies! I am traumatized!” William groaned, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
Nick chuckled, shaking his head as he started navigating through the exit ramps of the parking garage. “Already? On day one? How are you gonna last a month, kid? Don’t you remember, our life is but a dream and soooo easy, cos we’re not royals.”
William sighed, defeated. “You made your point. You have rough days. I understand. I take it back. Can you please drop me off at home?”
Nick smirked, “Nope. This car doesn’t drive over water. Henfordshire is a bit far.”
“I meant your home. I need to eat something, and I can barely function,” William said, his voice tinged with desperation.
“Tough luck, kid. We’re not going home till at least 8. Probably closer to 9. Now get on that phone and find a copy shop!”
William fumbled with the phone, trying to focus through his exhaustion.
As Nick circled around the exit ramps, William began to feel nauseated. “Why are you driving like that? I am getting vertigo here!” he complained.
“I can’t drive straight when the road is curved, kid, and I am not crawling down 6 levels, cos we have places to be. We’re almost at the exit, grab me that ticket and get my credit card out.”
Once they exited the parking garage, Nick dove into the heavy San Myshuno traffic, his driving spirited and aggressive. William clutched the seat, his knuckles turning white. “Are you trying to get us killed? This is insane!”
“San Myshuno traffic requires this, kid. If you don’t drive aggressively, you’ll sit at one turn for hours,” Nick replied, his tone firm but amused.
Nick tapped the voice-to-text feature on his steering wheel and dictated a message to King Maximilian: “The fruit of your royal loins is having a bit of a rough start. Should I ease him in, or go full throttle?”
The king’s reply was swift and decisive as it echoed through the speakers of the car’s system, read in the automated voice: “No easing in. Treat him exactly as you would Ryan. Remember, according to him, your life is easy. I am doing the same with your son.”
Nick grinned, shrugging at William. “You heard His Majesty. Yo daddy wants no special treatment for yo royal ass. Welcome to the real world, Your Highness. Only 29 more days just like this one. Ain’t life grand? So, how’s the quest for a copy shop coming along?”
Loaded up with a huge pile of documents, William ran after his uncle through the bustling streets of San Myshuno, nearly running into people while being run into himself. He eventually quit apologizing, until they stepped into another building. Nick turned to him, straightened out the pile of documents, then William, then dragged him through fancy-looking glass doors, approaching a receptionist desk.
“Cameron Law here for the Parsons case,” Nick announced.
Before they could proceed further, they had to go through security. William’s eyes widened as he saw the metal detectors and the guards. This was a far cry from the royal treatment he was used to.
“Empty your pockets and place all your items in the tray,” one of the guards instructed, eyeing William suspiciously.
William fumbled awkwardly, placing his wallet, and some pocket change into the tray. His cell phone had been confiscated by his Aunt Adrianna after he arrived at their place to cut down on all distractions. As he stepped through the metal detector, it beeped loudly. The guard motioned him to step aside for a pat-down.
“Belts off!” the guard barked, pointing to a sign listing items to be removed, including belts. William hastily removed his belt, feeling like an idiot.
Nick tried to explain, “He’s not used to security gates—”
“Is he Amish or something?” the guard retorted, rolling his eyes.
“Arms out, please,” the guard instructed.
William complied, feeling the invasive scrutiny of the guard’s hands patting him down. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of indignation. Back home, he was the one people bowed to, the one people respected. Here, he was just another person in the crowd, subjected to the same rules and checks as everyone else.
Finally, they cleared security, and Nick grabbed the documents, beckoning William to hurry. They navigated through the maze-like corridors, dodging busy lawyers and clerks. William struggled to keep up, his arms aching from the weight of the documents he had been lugging around.
“Keep up, Will! We’re running late!” Nick called over his shoulder.
William gritted his teeth and pushed forward, nearly tripping over a stray briefcase left in the hallway. He managed to catch himself, but not before a couple of lawyers shot him annoyed glances.
As they reached the courtroom, Nick paused briefly to catch his breath and straighten his tie. William, on the other hand, was panting heavily and sweating profusely.
“Alright, we’re here,” Nick said, giving William a quick once-over. “Remember, just follow my lead and try not to mess anything up. Here.” With those words, he slammed the stack of documents back against William’s chest.
They stepped into the courtroom, and William’s nerves hit an all-time high. The solemn atmosphere, the still vacant judge’s bench, and the audience’s silent whispers while looking over at him and Nick—it was all overwhelming for the young prince. He could feel every pair of eyes on him, judging his every move.
They approached the defense table, and Nick directed William to set down the documents and sit. William plopped into a chair, but his uncle gave him a stern glare, gesturing to the middle seat. “Unless you wanna argue the case….”
William quickly slid over, watching as his uncle sat down too, shuffled through papers, and began reading and making notes with practiced ease. Just as William began to settle in, a man in chains was brought out and seated next to him. William’s eyes widened in horror. For a prince used to a life of safety and decorum, this was beyond shocking.
As the bailiff called the case and the courtroom to rise, he introduced the judge, an elder man with a grim facial expression, who took his seat at the bench. While sitting back down, William leaned over to his uncle, whispering, “What is he in for?”
Nick, preparing to rise, replied curtly, “Murder. Second degree.”
William’s face drained of color, and he shot a wide-eyed glare at the man, then back to his uncle. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched Nick stand and address the court. Despite the gravity of the situation, Nick’s calm and commanding presence was undeniable.
William couldn’t help but be impressed. As Nick eloquently presented his case, countering arguments with precision and confidence, William realized just how skilled his uncle was. This was a world William had never truly understood, and witnessing it firsthand left him in awe.
**
By the time they entered the marbled hallway of the apartment building where Nick lived, the lateness of the hour weighed heavily on William. The clock had long passed nine in the evening, and every step felt like trudging through molasses. William almost nodded off in the elevator, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion.
When he dragged himself into the entrance of the luxury penthouse, he didn’t have the energy to even look around the sprawling open dining area and kitchen. He went straight up the stairs to the bedrooms, not even greeting his Aunt Adrianna, who came out of the kitchen, bemusedly watching him practically crawl up the stairs.
Adrianna giggled as she kissed her husband. “Poor kid. Did you have to be so rough on him, Nicky? On his first day at that?”
“Rough? He hasn’t seen rough yet,” Nick replied, purposely saying it loud enough for William to hear. “We just got another discovery request for the pipe break on 25th Street. That’s at least three times as much as he had today, and we need it for, I think, 33 parties. And I want him to come with me to the reading of the will at 1 pm. Guess tomorrow will be an early start then, so he can get all those copies finished before we have to leave.”
William groaned inwardly, the prospect of another day like the one he barely survived making him feel even more drained. He could barely process what Nick was saying, his body crying out for rest. As he dragged himself up the final flight of stairs, he wondered how he would survive the coming days if this was just the beginning.
He fell into bed fully dressed and passed out almost immediately, his exhaustion overtaking him before he could even pull the covers over himself.
About two hours before his alarm was set to go off, his uncle burst into his room, tossing some sweatpants, a tee, and a hoodie at him.
“You will never make it through a week like this without getting in better shape, kid. Get dressed, we’ll go for a short run, then shower, a quick breakfast, and off to the coal mines. Hurry up, Adrianna is waiting for us.”
Almost sobbing, William obliged.
William’s Experience
End of Week One – A Night Out
On Friday of the first week, after another grueling day at his uncle’s law firm, William stumbled into Ryan’s room, barely making it to the bed before collapsing face-first onto the mattress. He was exhausted, his body aching from the day’s relentless tasks. Just as he was about to drift off, the door swung open, and Ryan’s girlfriend, Camila, burst in, dressed in an eye-catching club outfit.
She wore a sequined mini dress that shimmered under the light, hugging her figure perfectly. Her long, straight brown hair cascaded down her back, and she accessorized with bold, dangling earrings and high heels that added to her height. Her confident stance and vibrant outfit exuded a lively, upscale club vibe.
Normally, William was raised to stand when a lady entered a room, but he was too exhausted and barely managed to turn his head to look at her.
“Get dressed! It’s Friday night, and that means opening night of the new club on 46th. No way we can miss that. Ryan and I gotta represent, and since he isn’t around, you’ll have to step up, cos I am so not going alone. So, get dressed. And don’t embarrass me! And quit looking like a zombie. Pull yourself together. This is gonna be fun. Work of some of that tension from the law firm. A body in motion, stays in motion. Sooo, get in motion,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Okaaaaay …” William groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. Camila left the room, and he reluctantly dragged himself up, pulling on a nice suit. When Camila returned and saw him, she nearly flipped out.
“Oh no, no, no! You can’t wear that! What’s wrong with you, Boomer?! Don’t they have clubs in Henfordshire?! OMG!” she exclaimed, dragging him back to Ryan’s room. She rummaged through William’s clothes, grimacing at each option. “I am not gonna be caught dead hanging over a fence somewhere with you looking like that on opening night at The Velvet Lounge.”
Whirling through Ryan’s closet, she pulled out modern clothing ranging from fancy to flamboyant. “Hmm, these maybe. They make Ryan’s ass look delish. Then again, you don’t work out much, don’t have much of an ass to show. Let’s see. Yeah, this could work. Come on, put this on.”
“Can you … leave?” William asked, feeling awkward.
“Oh my God, I’ll turn around. Come on, Will, I am not that desperate for your royal ding dong. No offense, but Ryan’s my gear, you are absolutely safe. Get going!” she replied, rolling her eyes.
He quickly changed into the outfit she selected, feeling out of his element. Camila scrutinized him, frowning at his disheveled hair. “Sit down,” she commanded, grabbing some styling gel and a comb.
Camila worked quickly, styling his hair into a modern, edgy look fit for an upscale NYC club. She gave him a tousled yet refined appearance, adding just the right amount of volume and texture to make him look effortlessly cool. William, with his softer, handsome features, looked surprisingly dashing with his new hairstyle.
“Now you look the part,” Camila said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Let’s go.”
When they arrived at The Velvet Lounge, the bouncer eyed William suspiciously, refusing to let him in. Camila, ever resourceful, flirted with the bouncer, showing a bit more cleavage and batting her eyelashes. “Come on, he’s my man. I can’t go in without him. That’s just cruel,” she purred.
The bouncer relented, but not before giving William a once-over. “You’re playing way out of your league with that kinda hot piece of ass, you dork. You either got a huge dick or are swimming in cash,” he muttered.
William retorted quietly, “Wouldn’t you know it, both actually.” shocking himself with his own words, while realizing this environment was probably why Ryan was the way he was. Had to be.
Inside, the club was a cacophony of lights, music, and people. William felt uncomfortable, out of place in the loud, crowded environment. Camila decided he needed to loosen up and bought them shots. William tried to sip the first one, but Camila lifted the glass, nearly drowning him in the process.
They danced, or rather, Camila danced while William awkwardly tried to keep up. At one point, he leaned in and whispered, “I think one girl squeezed my butt.”
Camila shrugged, leaning in to reply, “That’s it? That’s why you look like you are about to cry for your mommy?! Try being a girl in a club. I have been fondled by males and females, I was offered more phone numbers than you find in the San Myshuno yellow pages, had other guys’ crotch pressed up against me while waiting in the bathroom line, and almost got in a fight for the sink with another chick.”
When they finally left, William was barely able to walk to the garage. Camila stopped him. “Where you going?”
“To your car?” he asked, confused.
“Dude, we’re both drunk. We’re gonna hoof it. Now normally Ryan walks me home, but I think I need to walk you home. I’ll just crash at your place tonight. Before you start sobbing, in the guest room, don’t worry. No offense, you are kinda cute in a very stick-up-ass kinda way, but you are so not my type, I wouldn’t screw you if we were tied together at the waist naked, William. And we need to get a coffee. Either Nick or Addy are still gonna be awake, and if they realize we are wasted, we will spend the next two hours listening to an endless lecture. Evidently, they haven’t understood that Ryan and I are 22 and adults, so until we get our own place after college, this is how it has to be. Come on, there is a place open over there. Not a great area, so don’t look at anyone, okay? Just follow my lead.”
Gulping, William followed her past shady people lingering and loitering, shooting them wary looks. They entered a grimy store where Camila ordered two coffees. When she paid, she realized she was shorted and started arguing with the girl at the shop. Harsh words were exchanged, and William got scared. Camila handed him the cups, then reached across the counter and opened the cash register. The girl fought her, but Camila punched her and counted out the money.
“What are you doing, bitch! I am calling the po-po!” the girl yelled.
“Go ahead, bitch, tell them I gave you a hunny and you gave me back pocket change! This is how you break a hundred!” Camila retorted, counting out the money and throwing some bills into a tip jar.
“Drunk bitch!”
“Criminal hoe!”
Horrified, William handed her her coffee and silently followed her back to his uncle’s penthouse.
Ryan’s Experience
Day One – Cromwell Palace – Moments of Un-Glory
Ryan found himself in a grand hall, standing alongside a group of young noble boys and girls, around the ages of 11 to 14, who were all flawlessly executing bows and curtsies. The instructor, Lady Penelope, was a stern woman with a hawk-like gaze that seemed to pierce through his soul.
“Ryan, please demonstrate a proper bow,” she instructed, her voice crisp and authoritative.
Ryan attempted a bow, but his movements were awkward and exaggerated, more reminiscent of a theatrical performance than a graceful gesture. The young nobles stifled their giggles as Lady Penelope’s frown deepened.
“No, no, no!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “It’s a simple bow, not a circus act. Watch closely.” She demonstrated the bow with effortless grace, but Ryan’s second attempt was even worse. He stumbled, nearly losing his balance, and ended up in a half-squat position that looked more like he was about to propose than greet royalty. The boys and girls couldn’t hold back their laughter this time, and the hall echoed with their giggles.
Lady Penelope sighed, “Oh good God, have mercy on all of us.”
“Well sorry lady, where I come from, we don’t do any of this shit. I still don’t get what it’s even good for unless you all have some big ass time machine in the basement and learn this for the next trip back to sixteen hundred whatever. In my time and country, we go up to a girl, feel her out and if we vibe, we ask her out. Done and done. No need for gymnastics and crap.”
“Ryan, we refrain from using gutter talk and we speak the King’s English here,” she said, barely concealing her frustration.
The formal dinner with dignitaries from a foreign country was another nightmare for Ryan. The dining hall was resplendent with chandeliers and ornate decorations, and the long table was set with an overwhelming array of utensils and plates. He sat down, already feeling out of place.
As the courses began, he fumbled with the cutlery, unsure which fork or spoon to use for each dish. Trying to copy his uncle he still accidentally used the dessert fork for the salad, earning disapproving glances from the other guests. When what he thought was the soup arrived, he took a spoonful until his uncle, King Maximilian, covertly pushed down his hand with the spoon.
“Ryan, please, that is the finger bowl!” King Maximilian whispered urgently.
Ryan gave the king a confused glance. Leaning in, the king quietly explained, “It’s lemon infused water used to rinse your fingers, not for drinking.”
Ryan blushed, grinning sheepishly. “Oh oops! I thought that weird broth tasted pretty bland.”
The dignitaries from the foreign country exchanged amused glances, clearly finding the situation entertaining. But Ryan’s blunders didn’t stop there. During the main course, he struggled to cut into a particularly tough piece of meat. As he pressed down with excessive force, his knife slipped, making a loud screeching sound against the fine china. The harsh sound echoed through the room, causing everyone to wince momentarily.
In his frustration, Ryan’s fork slipped as well, launching a piece of broccoli high into the air. The broccoli performed a spectacular mid-air spin before bouncing off the table. It ricocheted off a dignitary’s plate, causing cutlery to jingle, then off another plate, almost like a pinball, before finally coming to a stop in someone’s wine glass with a splash. A ripple of laughter echoed around the room as everyone watched the vegetable’s chaotic journey. Ryan’s face turned a shade of red, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief, as he sheepishly apologized, adding another memorable moment to the evening.
As the final course was presented, a collective murmur of anticipation swept through the dining hall. Before Ryan was placed an exquisite chocolate dome, a delicate orb of tempered chocolate resting on a bed of gold-dusted berries and artisanal pastries. The server approached with a small pot of warm, velvety chocolate sauce, and with a flourish, poured it over the dome. Slowly, the outer shell melted away to reveal a lavish array of delights within—creamy vanilla bean mousse, caramelized nuts, and layers of decadent chocolate ganache.
Ryan’s eyes widened in awe, momentarily forgetting the complexities of the silverware. He reached for the nearest spoon, only to realize his mistake once more. But this time, 11-year-old Princess Veronica was quick to intervene. She deftly swapped his soup spoon for the correct dessert spoon, her eyes twinkling with subdued amusement.
After the exquisite dessert, the ladies and gentlemen of the court gracefully separated, following a long-standing tradition. The women retreated to the drawing room for sherry and delightful conversation, savoring the warmth and richness of the evening’s final indulgence. while the men retired to the opulent smoking room—a grand chamber adorned with rich mahogany paneling and plush leather chairs. This was a sanctuary where cigars were lit, and discussions of politics, sports, and the state of the realm flowed freely, lubricated by generous pours of aged cognac.
Ryan, still adjusting to the regal lifestyle, felt a mixture of intrigue and anxiety as he followed the men. The air was thick with the aroma of fine tobacco and the murmur of dignified voices. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene of refined elegance that felt worlds apart from his bustling life in San Myshuno.
Determined to fit in, Ryan took a cigar and tried to mimic his uncle’s suave manner. He fumbled slightly but managed to light it, only to cough violently on his first puff, earning some raised eyebrows and stifled laughs. Unperturbed, he grabbed a glass of cognac and joined a spirited debate on the merits of rugby versus cricket. With all the confidence of a city kid who’d seen more street basketball than royal rugby, he launched into a passionate argument.
“And that’s why the Henfordian Kites are the greatest team in the world! Fly high, Kites, I say!” he concluded, oblivious to the bewildered looks around him.
The King, hiding a smile behind his cigar, leaned in and said, “Ryan, my boy, I believe you mean the Henfordian Knights, not Kites?”
Ryan’s face turned a shade of crimson, and he laughed nervously, “Ah, yes, of course. Knights, kites… same difference. As Lord Tennyson once said ‘A Knight by any other name still … umm something.'”
The King chuckled softly, shaking his head, “That was Shakespeare, Ryan. ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,’ from Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II—the famous balcony scene. But I appreciate the effort.”
The evening ran well into the night, with discussions, debates, and glasses of cognac flowing freely. Ryan, feeling the effects of the unfamiliar alcohol and cigar consumption, found his muscles and legs turning into pudding. He stumbled into his chambers, barely mustering the energy to change out of his formal attire. He collapsed onto his bed fully dressed and passed out almost immediately, his exhaustion overtaking him before he could even pull the covers over himself.
Ryan’s Experience
Day Two – Cromwell Palace – The Hunt
Barely a few hours later, just as the first light of dawn began to creep through the windows, Ryan was jolted awake by the sound of servants bustling into his room.
“Good morning, Master Ryan!” one of the servants announced cheerfully, pulling open the heavy drapes to let in the morning light.
Ryan groaned, burying his face in the pillow. “Are you kidding me? It’s barely morning. And nothing good about it when you tear me from the middle of a REM cycle at the butt crack of dawn.”
“Rise and shine, Master Ryan! There’s no time to waste,” another servant added, briskly directing him towards the bathroom. Without much explanation, they assisted him with a brisk shower, much to Ryan’s bewildered amusement. It wasn’t until he was already being wrapped in plush towels that he even computed what had happened.
After the shower, the staff dressed him in unfamiliar clothing: tight breeches, a snug undershirt, followed by a crisp white shirt. Ryan struggled to comprehend what was happening, the fog of sleep and lingering effects of last night’s indulgence clouding his mind.
“Uh, what is all this about? Am I playing football or something?” he finally asked, as they fastened a formal jacket over his shirt.
One of the staff, with an almost theatrical flair, adjusted his collar and replied, “For the fox hunt, Master Ryan.”
“Fox hunt?” Ryan echoed, wide-eyed. “Please tell me that is a figure of speech or something!?”
The staff merely smiled politely, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, leaving Ryan to ponder the peculiarities of royal life. He was taken down to the stables by car, as they were down a hill, walkable, but still a considerable distance from the main palace grounds. The early morning mist hung in the air, and Ryan’s head still spun from the previous night’s indulgences.
As the royals and guests gathered for the hunt, Ryan approached his uncle, King Maximilian, looking puzzled. “So, why are we all here, dragging ourselves and the horses from much-needed beauty sleep?”
The King handed him a shotgun, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Have you ever handled one of these before?”
Ryan looked at the shotgun, then back at the King, and shrugged. “Well, I’ve used them in Call of Duty. Got the high score in several matches, actually. Does that count?”
The King chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ah, not quite the same, I’m afraid. Allow me to show you the basics.” He then proceeded to explain the essentials: how to hold the shotgun correctly, how to aim, and how to fire, making sure Ryan understood the weight and recoil of the real weapon.
“What’s a fox hunt anyway? We’re not, like, literally hunting actual foxes, are we?”
The King smiled warmly, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “Indeed we are, Ryan. It is a long-standing tradition and an honor for you to be part of it. Embrace it.”
Ryan recoiled, his eyes wide with horror. “No way! That’s barbaric! Don’t you know about animal rights? This is so wrong!”
His voice echoed through the stables, drawing the attention of everyone present. Aria Grace, his aunt, quickly pulled him by the arm into an empty horse stall.
“Ryan, listen,” she began, her tone firm but gentle. “When I first came here, about your age, I felt the same way. But there’s a lot of merit to it. The fox population has tripled, and they have no natural enemies, which is causing havoc on the other flora and fauna, not to mention the farmers. This is how it has always been handled. It’s not just about tradition; it’s about maintaining balance. And like your uncle just told you, it’s a great honor to be invited. Any person here in Henfordshire would give an arm and a leg for that honor. So, act like it and make your dad and me proud!”
Ryan looked conflicted but nodded slowly. “Fine, but I still think it’s wrong. You do you, Auntie, but I am so not gonna kill any animals. No way, Jose!”
Aria Grace sighed but smiled, understanding his viewpoint. “That’s fine, you don’t have to. Just stick close to me during the hunt,” she instructed. “I’ll help you through it. How are your riding skills?”
“Non-existent,” he shrugged. “I mean, where the hell would I be riding a horse in San Myshuno?”
“Right, of course, good point. Come with me. I’ll get you on a docile mare we always use for beginner riders.” She led him to a gentle white mare. “This is White Peony. She’s very calm and perfect for first-timers.”
Helping Ryan mount the horse, however, proved to be a challenge. Despite the mounting block, Aria Grace, a more delicate 45-year-old woman, struggled to heave her athletic 22-year-old nephew onto the saddle. After several awkward attempts, with Ryan nearly toppling over a couple of times, they finally succeeded.
Ryan patted the horse’s neck and quipped, “Hey Peony, if you pee on me I will pee on you.” His comment earned him a few glares from nearby aristocrats and an unamused reaction from Aria Grace.
She rolled her eyes. “Ryan, please, try to be serious.”
He sighed, “All right, all right. Sorry. So, how do I steer one of these beasts?”
Aria Grace spent a few minutes explaining the basics, showing him how to hold the reins, how to signal the horse to move, and how to maintain his balance in the saddle. Ryan listened attentively, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of being utterly out of his depth.
As the hunt began, Ryan did his best to keep up with his aunt, but his lack of riding skills quickly became apparent. The dogs ran and barked excitedly, and the other riders moved with practiced ease. Ryan, however, struggled to control his horse, veering off course and nearly crashing face first into low hanging branches multiple times, managing to duck at the last possible moment.
As he watched his aunt expertly place a kill shot, Ryan let out a startled shriek, jerked in shock, startling his horse. The animal reared up, and Ryan was unceremoniously dumped into the mud. The other riders, including some of the young nobles from the day before, watched with a mix of amusement and pity.
Covered in mud and thoroughly humiliated, Ryan realized just how out of his depth he was in this new world. But despite the challenges, he was determined to keep trying, if only to prove that he could handle the pressures of royal life.
*
His attempts to navigate the strict dress code became a running joke among the staff. One morning, he appeared for breakfast in a trendy athleisure outfit, complete with a designer hoodie and sneakers, earning him a stern lecture from the queen, his aunt Aria Grace. She briskly walked him back to his room, visibly annoyed.
“Ryan, come on now. Where is your head at? This isn’t your first time here at court. You’ve visited us and stayed with us many times since you were a tiny tot! Why are you acting like the first human on earth? You are a smart young man, so think, kiddo. Your head is for more than displaying that baseball cap collection you are so proud of. Even Max already said that one doesn’t have to wonder where you are, just follow the giggling of the staff!”
“Yeah, well, normally Mom and Dad are here too, if not Grandma, and I can ask them. Fashion is my life, Auntie AG. Seriously, I wouldn’t leave the house unless I look absolutely on fleek, but I honestly can’t make heads or tails of what you all are doing here. Everyone is constantly changing like every hour or something, but I never know what for. Back home we eat breakie in our pj’s, THEN we get dressed, unless we have an early day, but at least back home I know what I am dressing myself for, here I never do. So, I got nothing. Yesterday I came down for breakfast in a hoodie and gym shorts, thinking it’s a step up from pj’s, yet your husband just about had a coronary. You’d think I walked in naked. It’s fuckin’ breakfast, man, why does it matter what I wear?! It’s just family anyway. I get it when you have some of those noble bros over, but they wouldn’t roll up here for breakfast, would they? Obviously! So logically, today I thought it would be better to be over- than underdressed. There. Upscale casual wear. I rest my case.”
“Well, obviously, one doesn’t wear athleisure to breakfast at court, smartass!”
“Well, obviously, this is a castle, so who the fuck knows?”
As they reached his chambers, Vivienne, the second youngest royal daughter, walked past. At 14, she was not always the most royally behaved. “Well, obviously, this is a palace, not a castle. Know the difference, Ryan. Do they not teach history back in United Simdonia?”
Ryan threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why don’t you go play with your Barbie dolls or something?!”
“Ryan, another rule at court, you do not openly affront any members of the royal family. That could have dire consequences.” Aria Grace grabbed him by the cheeks with one hand, making him look directly at her.
“ME?! She started it! What am I supposed to do? Drag her into my room to set her straight? Since you clearly are failing to do so as her mom?” Ryan’s words came out muffled and exaggerated due to Aria Grace’s grip, making the whole scene even more comical.
“Vivienne Grace!” Aria Grace called out sternly. The young princess stopped in her tracks, her smug expression faltering.
“Apologize to your cousin, right now,” Aria Grace demanded, still holding Ryan’s cheeks.
Vivienne scurried back, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Ryan,” she muttered quickly before hurrying away.
“Don’t worry about how I raise my kids, bigmouth, and go change. Wear a nice pair of trousers, maybe a polo shirt or a button-down, no tie. Can you manage that, or does Auntie need to dress her wee little nephew Ryan?” With that, Aria Grace pinched his cheeks, while Ryan fumed.
Ryan’s Experience
End of Week One – Cromwell Palace
Ryan’s first week at the palace proved to be an exhausting ordeal. From the crack of dawn to the late hours of the night, his days were filled with an endless array of royal duties, formal events, and rigorous schedules.
Mornings began with early wake-up calls, leaving little room for rest. Each day started with an hour-long session of royal protocol, where Ryan had to memorize intricate rules and customs. Following this, he would be whisked away to attend various state functions, which included long-winded speeches and endless handshakes.
Afternoons were no less daunting. Ryan found himself participating in horseback riding lessons, a skill he had never quite mastered. He also had to endure the seemingly endless tea parties with nobles whose titles Ryan could never keep straight, where small talk felt like a marathon. His afternoons were peppered with lessons in Henfordian history, where he struggled to keep his eyes open as the tutor droned on about the House of Cromwell’s long lineage.
Evenings brought a different kind of challenge. Ryan had to dress in formal attire for elaborate dinners, where the courses seemed never-ending and the conversation topics ranged from local politics to international relations. As a city kid from San Myshuno, he often found himself at a loss, fumbling through conversations with aristocrats who viewed his every move with mild amusement.
To make matters worse, his nights did not end early. After dinner, there were often social gatherings that required his attendance. Balls, receptions, and private concerts stretched well past midnight, leaving him utterly drained by the time he stumbled back to his chambers. Adding to his challenges, Ryan was treated as some sort of novelty. The King had only shared that he was filling in for his cousin, the Crown Prince, for a month. This led to a mix of curiosity and skepticism from the palace residents, who found his presence both intriguing and amusing. The palace staff, on a need-to-know basis, often watched his unfamiliarity with royal customs with bemusement.
As he made his way to his chambers each night, Ryan got into the habit of taking off his clothing as soon as he entered, leaving them strewn along the path to his bed. He would collapse into bed in only his boxers, barely managing to pull the covers over himself before sleep overtook him. Miraculously, whenever he woke up, all his clothes had disappeared and a fresh set of attire appeared on a valet stand, ready for the day’s ordeals.
The demands of royal life were relentless, with one event seamlessly flowing into the next. By the end of the week, Ryan realized that his month-long stay would be far from the pony-and-rainbows-filled fantasy he had imagined. Instead, it was a rigorous test of endurance, patience, and adaptability—qualities he would need to summon in abundance to survive his time at the palace.
Never once did Ryan find himself in cozy, comfortable clothing. Instead, he was constantly dressed to the T, navigating a labyrinth of dress codes that left him feeling out of place and scrutinized. Every misstep and blunder, whether during a formal dinner or a fox hunt, was met with disapproving glances and polite corrections.
The official state visits with his uncle added to the chaos. The travel was tightly scheduled, with back-to-back meetings and ceremonies that left Ryan barely able to recall where he was and what day or time it was. The constant movement and the pressure to keep up with the demanding itinerary were overwhelming.
Additionally, Ryan was never alone. Palace guards, security personnel, and a small army of staff were always by his side. The ever-present aides with tablets, detailing schedules and tasks, ensured that his every moment was accounted for. The lack of privacy and personal space was a stark contrast to the freedom he was used to.
By the end of the first week, Ryan was completely over the experience. The exhaustion and cultural clashes had taken their toll, and he realized just how demanding and challenging the royal lifestyle truly was. Despite his best efforts, he struggled to keep up with the rigorous expectations and found himself yearning for the familiarity of his former life.
At night, in his ensuite bathroom—the only place he could ever be alone for a little while—Ryan would look in the mirror and say out loud, “William, hats off to you, cousin. I really underestimated this crap. Don’t know how you do this, but you always made it look so easy, man.” Staring at his reflection, he asked himself how the hell he was supposed to make it through three more weeks. It felt impossible.
Back Home
Ryan
After two weeks and one day of living each other’s lives, both boys had begged enough for their parents to let them off the hook and both were finally back in their respective homes to serve the rest of their time until they could return back to campus under their own parents’ watch, undoubtedly with equally unloved tasks, but at least more in their own wheelhouse.
Ryan walked into the penthouse with his dad, Nick, who had picked him up from the airport. The penthouse was a picture of luxury, with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a grand staircase leading to the upper levels.
Ryan made it a few steps into the hallway before dramatically falling to his knees on the plush rug, kissing it theatrically. “Oh, sweet, sweet home! How I’ve missed you!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with exaggerated relief.
Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Welcome back, son to your very own piece of heaven, as I am sure you would now agree it is.”
“Yep. You win guys. William’s life is absolutely horrible, I don’t know how the dude does it, nor do I want to know. I love my life and you are not the drill sergeant I thought you were. At least not compared to Aunt Whipcrack AG and Uncle Winston Churchill Max.”
Adrianna, Nick’s wife, laughed as she watched the scene unfold. “Oh Ryan, when you are done making out with our rug, call Cami. She missed you dearly and I can guarantee you she would never leave you for a Crown Prince.”
“Course not. Girls I date have great taste, obviously.” he mumbled, then raised up “I need me some Cami too. Damn I missed that girl. Those chicks at court all act 90 years old, unless of course it’s my cousins, who tortured me behind dear Auntie and Uncle’s backs, so I would get in trouble for reacting to their BS. Sidenote: Vivienne is the worst!”
“Well, aaaaaaaand?” Nick crossed his arms, smirking victoriously.
Ryan looked up, a genuine smile on his face. “And I have a newfound respect for William and what he goes through. Poor fucker. Seriously, screw that royal life. More like slavery in designer outfits to match dress codes nobody understands.”
As the family shared a laugh, the doorbell sounded, Adrianna checked the monitors and buzzed the visitor in, shortly after Ryan’s girlfriend Camila Reynolds walked in. Ryan nearly ran to hug and kiss her, almost suffocating her.
“Babe, you better clear your schedule, cos you are not leaving my room all weekend!” he said, pulling a laughing Camila with him up the stairs.
Back Home
William
William nearly sprinted out of the limousine into his parents’ arms, who were lined up waiting with the rest of the family and some staff. After hugs for his siblings, the king and queen took him into the private parlour for some family time and to recount his adventure.
Walking next to his dad, William looked over at him. “Papa?” he asked, with a hint of hesitation.
“Hm?” Maximilian replied absentmindedly.
“You were right. I can’t make it out there. I can’t live like that. We’ve been visiting Uncle Nick, Aunt Adrianna, and Ryan since I can remember, and it always felt so easy, casual, and fun. They always looked so relaxed. I had no idea. Their lives are HORRIBLE, Papa! I have not the faintest idea how people live like that long-term! But at least I know now why Uncle Nick and Ryan curse as much as they do. It simply can’t be helped!” William said earnestly.
Laughing heartily and patting his son on the back, Maximilian responded, “You know, Ryan sounded very much the same. Almost verbatim.”
“I understand everything now. What you and Mum were trying to say about loving Grace not being enough. Do you think she lives like that too?” William asked thoughtfully.
“No. I’d wager her life might be harder yet. Uncle Nick and Aunt Adrianna both run successful businesses. If one were to fail, heaven forbid, they have another. Grace does not have that, nor their wealth. Which is why I didn’t stop you from helping her out so much. She is a very lovely young lady, who probably hasn’t been dealt the kindest cards. I truly like her a lot and think she could make a wonderful royal, if she chose to. But she has always been very open and honest about it with me, you, and herself. She cannot and moreover will not. This is what that means. She can’t. Just like you can’t live her life, not long-term. Well, two weeks and one day seems to be your limit, to be exact. You see it now, don’t you, my boy? Love really isn’t always enough. And unfortunately, unlike poetry and prose would like us to believe, it sadly cannot conquer all,” Maximilian replied with a serious tone.
“Yes, your and Uncle Nick’s lesson has been received. Truly this time. I think Grace knows it too, as wonderful as our moments together have been, we have been chasing rainbows yet again. She has been hinting around wanting to break up with me almost each time I went to see her. I was almost offended. Now I understand it. I think I might request your approval to make a very difficult trip to Newcrest. Of a very platonic nature. Last time I had to break up with her over a phone call, she deserves much better. I must say it to her face. At least give her the chance to slap me, for I truly more than deserve it,” William said, nodding in agreement.
Maximilian looked at him with a compassionate expression. “I think that would be a very wise choice, and the kindest way to go about it. Furthermore, I think you might wish to consider a rather difficult talk with Mina. I will not force you; it is entirely up to you. But if you wish to hear my advice on it, I think leaving her in the dark might avoid hurting her but keep a dark shadow on your heart, and Mina is a very smart young lady, she would know something is wrong, so either you would continue on a lie or only drag out hurting her until a later point, and such delicate things usually only fester the longer they remain buried. However, if you choose to be honest with her, she will be very hurt and might not forgive you. It is a risky choice, which is entirely yours, son, I will support you either way, but you need to mull this over in peace. After you’ve rested up. And welcome home. Truth be told, everyone here likes Ryan, but he is a handful and the mouth on that boy. You are but a breath of fresh air.”
“You would not believe how grateful I am to be home. Would you give me some counsel on all this, Papa? Maybe Mama too, and maybe even Victoria. Clearly, I learned you do know best sometimes. You do possess experience and wisdom I can’t possibly have yet, as does Mama, and Victoria has the female side to all this. I still do have a lot left to learn. I bow to your superior knowledge, my king. Especially with something so harsh. I know I am asking you to help me resolve a big mistake I got myself into, knowing better from the start, yet I still chose to do it,” William said gratefully.
“Of course, I will help you, William. It does not matter how you ended up needing assistance, advice, or help, I am your father, and that is what I am here for. But advice only works if the one being counselled is actually open to it and I believe now you are,” Maximilian said reassuringly.
EchoesOfLegacy 