“I really can’t believe you. Why are you always just diving headfirst into things? You run off to get married, and now you run off to get a divorce.”
Was she kidding? “Who was it that pushed me in the first place? I clearly remember you cheering me on. What did you say, ‘Oh, you really are my daughter.’ Now you are complaining?”
“Because you are in a strange country alone. Did you even hire security? A guard or something.”
“Mom, I’m not Beyoncé—”
“No, you are worth more. Why are you so loose with your safety? I keep telling you—”
“Mom, I will be fine!” Jesus, she was more worried and concerned now that I was a grown woman than when I was a child. Especially recently.
“Odette. Did you even speak to Mr. Greensboro—”
“Mom, I will call you when I get settled. Don’t worry. I let the company know I was here. They helped with my hotel and everything and told me to call if I needed anything. Now, I have to go.”
“Odette, are you sure you don’t need me to come? This might be hard for you to get done alone. You know how attached you get to people.”
“Hey!” I snapped, a bit annoyed. “Seriously, Mom. I’m a big girl. I’m fine. I’m not attached to anyone except you, apparently.”
“Good. Now please, please be careful,” she begged.
“I will, I promise. Love you. Bye.” I hung up before she could protest more.
Tossing the phone back into my purse, I wheeled my bag up the escalator, and the very first thing I saw when I crossed the corner was a giant billboard of Gale. The words beside him reading, Welcome to Ersovia, Where the Past Meets the Future. The smile on his face was all warm and open. He wasn’t wearing a suit but some royal uniform with a sash and golden shoulder guards or something. However, it wasn’t how princely he looked that threw me off; it was the woman beside the billboard taking photos with it.
Talk about an out-of-body experience. It was so strange. I knew Gale was a prince, but seeing him plastered on a wall like that, that was different. I tried to ignore it. I kept walking, but it wasn’t just him. Hanging from the top of the airport were photos of his sister, Princess Eliza, with her beautiful red hair, seated elegantly in a ruffled dress. There were pictures of the queen, who also had red hair, seated beside her husband, the king.
Then there was Arthur. The sign above the date of his birth and death read, In Memoriam of HRH Arthur, the Prince of Ersovia. I had seen him online and in photos and could see the similarity between him and Gale. They shared the same eyes. It was clear there was no escaping the royals here. And the more I saw, the more it hit me that I could never be part of that. By the time I entered the first-class customs line, I felt more dread and regret at coming. Everything felt as if it were screaming, You do not belong.
“Next,” the female customs officer said as I came forward.
“Gerchen,” I said in greeting, sliding over my passport.
“Gerchen,” she said, taking the passport and sliding it through the machine. “What is the purpose of your visit?”
“Tourism,” I lied.
“How long do you intend to stay?”
I have no idea. However long it takes me to get your prince to sign divorce papers? “Two weeks.”
She nodded, stamped the passport, and gave it back to me.
“Grazne,” I said, thanking her before leaving.
It wasn’t until I was outside with my luggage that it hit me. I was a little stunned that I was here. I had spent the last six months reading and learning as much about the city as I could. Why? Because of Gale. It made me feel better to know about the country he would one day rule. My mind was reeling with information. Ersovia was a nation of 38.6 million people. The capital was Erelis and had a million residents living within its city limits. They drove on the same side of the road as Americans and spoke Ersovian, French, English, and Italian. I could go on. But as I saw the darkening sky, I rushed to the taxi line, part of me wishing I had called for a private car. I was doing my best to be discreet; however, I may have overdone it.