The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant by Leslie North

1

The sun dipped low on the horizon. Before evening swallowed the prosperous Kingdom of Sovalon, Prince Edward Ashton had one more item to cross off of his list. He walked up the sidewalk to the decrepit nineteenth-century schoolhouse. He noticed the handle of the barn wood door, wrought iron and speckled with rust. The schoolhouse was not so much quaint as it was falling apart at the seams. The historical society of Sovalon had done a great job of conserving sites around the kingdom, but not this one. It was time to do away with antiquity and move into the future, to bid farewell to the old, crumbling establishments that clung to the past. Sovalon needed new, modern architecture and environmentally-friendly engineering that would rocket it into the twenty-first century. Edward imagined sleek, minimalist housing and green businesses lining the streets, making Sovalon an ideal place to live and a center for new, progressive enterprises.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” the foreman said as he emerged from the darkness of the tiny structure. The air following after him smelled of mildew and rot.

“Please, John, call me Edward.” He was in no way ashamed of his title, but Edward preferred to be addressed by name.

The foreman nodded and gestured for Edward to follow him. “This shouldn’t take long since there’s no need to view the interior—we can see everything you need to see from the outside. Not much left in there anyway, other than a few fixtures and a lot of dust. The house only has a few rooms that were used as classrooms, a small kitchen area and one very rustic bath.”

“Understood,” Edward said. “Let’s get started.”

“The crew did a check for animal life and found none,” the foreman explained. “They’ll do another quick check tomorrow before demo, but we’re not expecting to find any. The building is so ragged, it doesn’t offer much shelter—and the floors are too unstable to safely bear much weight.”

Edward nodded. “Good.”

“We’ve placed explosives that will knock out the schoolhouse’s primary vertical supports so that the building collapses into itself.” The foreman walked Edward around the site, pointing out the placement of devices and explaining what the sequence of explosions would mean for safety.

“It’s ready and secure for tomorrow morning at nine thirty.”

Edward offered his hand for the foreman to shake, satisfied with their meeting. “Thank you. You know how important this job is to me, John. My father is very focused on progress and breathing new life into the kingdom, and he’s put me in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly.”

His father had essentially mandated him with helping to bring the kingdom’s housing projects and urban planning into the future, and Edward had a lot to do to prove himself. He hoped to create new housing that would attract more people to the region.

Edward looked hard at the foreman, hoping the man understood the weight of this project. “See you in the morning then,” he said.

“We’ll be here,” the foreman said and walked away.

When the foreman was gone, Edward smiled to himself.

The demolition of this building and turning the property into usable real estate would be the first of many achievements and a way to prove that he was up to the task his father had set forward. Edward’s appointment as head of Urban Planning and Housing Development was a show of his father’s faith in him. As the oldest of the three Ashton brothers, the future of the Sovalon was truly in his hands. He wanted to breathe new life into this great kingdom. He knew his father would be looking over his shoulder every step of the way, keeping him in step and grooming him to take over as king at the rightful time. He would do right by his father and his country.

Edward was about to head back to his car when he heard a loud clatter from the back of the building. He was inclined to dismiss it as an animal—something the crew would take care of in the morning—until he heard a distinctly human voice grumble out a curse. Someone was here. It could be one of the protestors who were against the demolition of historical sites. These days, they were always showing up out of nowhere, complicating his efforts to move Sovalon into the future. He slid down on the screen of his phone to find the flashlight.

“Damn, damn, damn.” The last thing he needed was another activist breathing down his neck or worse, getting injured on a work site.