letter my father wrote to me when I was first born.” Hamlet touched his suit pocket reverently, and I heard the paper crinkle. “It’s about my father’s hopes and dreams for me. About how he never expected to l—” His voice broke and he breathed deeply. “Never expected to love anyone as much as he loved me, and h… how it had only been a few days since I’d been born, and how he couldn’t im… imagine how he could grow to love me more as I got older, but that he knew he would. Pretty amazing stuff.” He looked away, and I held his hand tighter, willing myself not to think about the box of my mother’s journals that I had hidden under my bed, journals that said the same kinds of things about me.
Horatio got a text and, after he shoved his phone back into his pocket, Hamlet asked, “Kim?”
Horatio nodded and told me she was a girl he met at school. Hamlet said he liked her but didn’t sound too enthusiastic.
“What’s your problem with her?” Horatio asked. “Kim’s pretty.”
“True,” Hamlet agreed.
“And she’s an amazing writer.”
“Also true.”
“She’s fun.”
Hamlet remained silent.
“Life isn’t always about acting like an idiot,” Horatio said, his voice rising.
“Maybe not, but I know fun, and fun she is not.”
“Screw you. I like her.” Horatio turned onto his back and looked at the starless sky.
“Cut it out, Hamlet,” I said. For a cute guy, Horatio had been alone for a long time, and I thought it was nice he had someone. “Tell me about her, Horatio.”
He told me how smart she was, that they spent their time together reading and studying. I hoped they did more than that, though I didn’t say so.
I said he should bring her to the castle, to which he replied, “She doesn’t know I live here.”
I was shocked.
“It’s easier. I want her to like me for me.”
“Yeah, but that’s a hell of a secret,” I said.
“I’m good with secrets. Who knows if she is?” He shrugged. “This is separate from school.”
“I wish it was for me,” Hamlet interjected.
We nodded sympathetically.
“Funny thing is, I don’t even want to be king.”
“You don’t?” asked Horatio, as if it were the first time Hamlet had mentioned it. Maybe it was. I couldn’t remember it ever coming up. We’d thought his father would live for a lot longer, and Hamlet was rarely serious enough to bother talking about something so important.
“So don’t,” I countered.
“Oh, that’s rich. Your father tells you not to call me, and you don’t. But you want me to stand up to everyone? Say no to this position?”
I stayed quiet, knowing he was right.
“Hamlet, you have to do it,” Horatio said. “It’s expected. Your family’s been in power for generations. You’re next in line.”
“I know, but there’s no way. I’m not ready to lead anyone.”
“That is true,” Horatio agreed with a smile.
“Shut up,” said Hamlet, starting to laugh.
Horatio continued, “You can’t even decide what dining hall you want to eat in each day. How are you going to decide on matters of state?” Hamlet took off his shoe and threw it at Horatio, who caught it and threw it back.
As Hamlet put his shoe back on, he said, “You know I’ll be a figurehead as much as anything. Parliament makes all the real decisions. Even so, I’m not sure I want to…”
I asked, “Without thinking, what would you do if you could do anything with your life?”
A satisfied smile crept onto his lips. “I’d play my guitar.”
We all laughed.
Horatio teased, “You’d starve. You really suck at it.”
“I do not. Ophelia?” he asked, trying to get me to agree with him.
“Well…” I hesitated, trying to imagine Hamlet on a street corner with an open guitar case at his feet, hoping for spare change.
“Okay, you two, enough kicking a guy while he’s down. Have a drink.” We passed the wine around.
“Hamlet, what about someone else doing the job until you’re older? At least until you finish college,” I suggested.
He shook his head. “I don’t know how that would work. Maybe.”
Horatio looked perplexed. “Didn’t anyone mention a plan to you? They must have rules or contingencies for these sorts of things.”
Hamlet turned to me and said, “Your father started talking about it yesterday, but my mother stopped him. Said it wasn’t necessary to bother me with it in my grief.”
Horatio pressed on. “But you have to deal with it soon, right? I mean, the public wants to know—”
“The public?” said Hamlet. “Whose side are you on?”