Tuesday was the final day before our miniature tour left us in the capitol. There was a brunch at ten-thirty, a meeting with some local entrepreneurs at twelve, lunch was on the road before Cas would speak about his experiences at a military university before we'd be on the road to meet families and farmers who provided Apolia City with the majority of the annual produce.

"It's usually my brother's job," Cas explained as we travelled in the car.

"It's great for optics," Marek hushed, "we have eight years of tours and shaking hands and general public press to make up for while you were serving,"

"It's nice meeting the average hardworking folk," Cas comically continued to speak, feigning thoughtfulness. Marek rolled his eyes, "you don't get that in the city as much anymore,"

It took Cas a little while to enter into the university. As the member of the royal family who held the longest active service, he was quite popular. Opting to spend more time chatting with students outside. Vlad almost had to drag him inside, aware of the security risk.

Patricja had insisted on making sure that I knew that the university speeches weren't essential to my itinerary. I decided to watch anyway. Cas was a calming familiarity in a chaotic world. If I thought for hard enough, I could almost imagine the two of us back in Ardeena, back at Burbank Coffee, the taste of chai and sarcasm still on my tongue.

Stay focused, I scolded myself, now isn't the time, be present.

Cas spoke briefly, no more than for fifteen minutes. He laid out the worth ethics and mentality that got him through training. He talked about what gets noticed by officers and one's superiors the fastest and how to balance working towards a promotion with breathing room.

"Burnout is one of the most common things I saw among young candidates who were aiming for good things," Cas launched into a detailed plan of how to avoid it. The pens barely left the paper throughout his entire speech. And then came questionnaire time.

The usuals; what did you do here? Why did you do that? Does it feel weird to...? The conversation stilled when a certain weedy-looking student raised his hand.

"Just wondering if you're considering returning to service with the terror threat?" Side chatter in the room ceased, everyone turned to Cas. 

There'd been few times that Cas' expert poker face had appeared. It was a neutral look with his lips pressed and pulled back slightly to reveal the slightest dimple.

"I've been assured that our armed forces are more than qualified to deal with this," he waved his hand casually as if shooing a fly, "tussle. It's time for me to settle down and enjoy the more casual joys of life, however, if my presence is called I won't hesitate to serve my country again," Before a follow up question arrived, Cas launched into a rising speech on the importance of family values and how our second greatest service was to the next generation. It was the mindset of Apolia; everything was for the future generation. Make sure you conquered your vices because you wouldn't want the future generation to inherit that. Make sure to work as hard as you can to give your children a good life. Make sure you make the right decisions so the future generation can be the greatest that they can. For such a young country, it was the mentality that had sustained us when our neighbouring countries had failed.

Another question, "Should Russia reclaim Ukraine and re-instate the USSR or something like that, would Apolia join?"

Cas found this a little funny, smirking to himself, "I'm not supposed to state political ideas here because this might get out but I'm sure that Apolia enjoys its independence. However, I look forwards to the day that we're all united once again as an example to the world of unity and effectiveness. That's all for now, thank you very much,"

Saying that the questionnaire was finished didn't mean that it actually was. Cas spent another twenty minutes milling around and chatting with soldiers.

"We're going to be late," Patricja complained to Vlad who went up, extracting Cas from the throng of people.

The military compound melted into the back. It was one of the strongholds of Apolia City, designed to defend it against any northern invasion. As we drove, the landscape quickly melded into the horizon, one of patchwork farms and matchbox barns. The crew was quiet; Vlad and Patricja were in the front, Marek and I sat facing forwards and Cas looked out the opposite window.

"That was an odd question," I chuckled after a long silence.

"I was thinking about that," Cas murmured, "who would want to return to a system like that? Why do people forget so easily what happened there?"

When the USSR split, in what some called of the greatest loss in Russia's history, Apolia gained a large portion of the Western side. It was both a win and a loss. While Ukraine caved to globalist influence, Russia subtly pressed for the return of their land. It would only be a matter of a few decades before that happened again.

"It's easier to forget, and quicker to insist," I spoke, absentmindedly.

"That sounds very wise," Cas chuckled, I grinned. We looked to one another before watching the world fly past again. Each small town that we went to, Cas made sure to stop and speak. Surrounded by the average folk is where he was happiest. Children would hand him bunches of flowers and hand carved items.

Cas reached the first of the three production facilities that he'd be 'inspecting'. Vlad, Marek and he walked with farmers. Marek spent most of the time updating the social media accounts and Vlad mostly glared at the throng of unnecessary people.

By the time we'd gotten to the third farm, a few unexpected press members had arrived. Vlad was forced to call in pre-planned security slightly early. Patricja and I spent the time hanging around the car. I noted that my stomach no longer twisted at the sight of a camera. I secretly kept that to myself.

By the time Cas was finished, there were dual police motorbikes escorting us through the countryside. It felt like I was almost an escapee.

"Is this what it's like travelling around the city?" I'd asked Cas. He'd chuckled.

"Usually a lot more flashing lights,"

And that seemed to be the case. We paused at a pie shop for a quick dinner. Of which, a more suitable convoy force caught up with us. Then, as the last of twilight ebbed into the horizon, the first sight of the capitol appeared.

When I was five and again when I was thirteen, we'd flown to the capitol. Apolia was riddled with epic and sometimes impassable mountain peaks. So I'd gotten my experience of flying in.

Apolia City was constantly breathing and evolving. In the six years that I'd last been there, the city had increased in width and height. The crowning jewel; Apolia City's oldest church reached into the sky, chased by the growing skyscrapers. The city glinted in the dying light, gratefully accepting the respite from the heat that night provided.

It was almost seven-thirty when we passed from the suburbs into the city, marked by crossing one of the canals. The flashing lights of the police escort illuminated the pedestrians on the sidewalk. The prince was home.

I couldn't help but take in the epic scale of the city. Shops, still shining brightly for business! The apartments, the quirky little side streets. Recalling the tour guide when I was thirteen, I knew the city was a radial design. The centrepiece being the church, and nearby palace.

Cas was asleep against the car window.

"Where are we going tonight?" I whispered to Marek.

"The palace," Marek grinned, my jaw dropped, "don't worry, they'll have a place for you,"

The palace! I bit down on my knuckles to suppress a grin. This was awesome!

Cas woke before we fully arrived. He made sure that Patricja knew where I was going before leaving.

"He's got a lot to sort," Patricja explained, "it's a busy time at the moment, come on, let's go,"

Patricja let me through a well lit wing. It was almost a workout in itself! She babbled on about workers apartments, servers quarters and the standards that went along there.

"I would give you a full induction," She drawled, fatigue slightly slurring her speech, "but you'll be going back to your place on Thursday, so," She shrugged, I nodded.

"Just follow the signs," I supplemented, she chuckled, nodding.

We reached the temporary quarters. Patricja talked about how only certain people got these. The most common of staffers and the most called upon. I nodded the best I can, my thoughts mostly focused on getting to sleep.

She introduced me to one of the maids. A short girl in her early twenties with bright, red hair wound into two braids down her back. Her name was Berna.

"Hi there!" She gave me a toothy grin of tea-stained teeth, "just finishing up for the night, your beds should be ready!"

"That's weird," Patricja muttered, flipping through the folder, "where's Sofia sleeping?"

The colour drained from Berna's face, "Sofia O'Zbrojaski?" Patricja and I looked to one another.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Oh there must've been a mistake!" Berna gushed, a worried tinge to the edge of the words, "you've been booked in one of the guest suites,"

"Really?" I asked confused, looking to Patricja, she shrugged.

"Not my department,"

"Well, not to worry, your room is already prepared!" Berna beamed, "let me take those!" She rushed forwards, plucking my items up off of the floor. Berna hurried me along the hallway and with a final confused look to Patricja, I was on my way to the guest suites.

I couldn't complain, the upgrade was clear. The walls when from shades of light blue with white accents to deep greens and reds with accents of gold. Bronze statues and jaw-dropping artwork lined the walls. The lighting transformed from bulbs to chandeliers. Though a little part of me still guiltily hung with Patricja.

"Here's yours!" Berna half-whispered to me, aware of the rooms around us. She pushed open a door. The Maiden Suite declared the door in gold cursive. "If you need anything, just let me know! I'll get a sign if you press the buzzer there," She pointed to a button by the door.

Berna led first into the suite. The lights automatically turning on. I tried not to gasp, my jaw at least dropping several inches. This is for me?

"I'm sorry," I stumbled, "what's this for? Why me?"

"You're a guest!" Berna spoke as if that was plainly obvious, "Prince Casmir-Sefan booked you in for the room,"

I drunk in my surroundings. Never before had I seen such intricate detailing in a room before. Throughout ran a white theme, the bedsheets were white, the walls were white, the carpet was white. Running along the walls were gold accents. A touch of gold here, a splash of gold theme there. It was like King Midas had arrived and decided to let the room vary.

The suite was circular in nature but was really just a frame for the grand masterpiece; the ceiling. An epic depiction of battle. From the way the hill sloped and the armour of the time I recognised it as-.

"The Battle of Wysokie Wzgórze," Berna grinned, "I was told it was important to your family, being there and all,"

"Casmir arranged this?" I asked, turning to Berna.

"Prince Casmir-Sefan did, yes!"

"Of course," I corrected myself. You're not supposed to be that familiar with royalty. I turned back to the room. My shock turned to awe which turned to a grin, "this is awesome, wow,"

"So glad you enjoy! I'll leave you be! Just remember if you need anything-,"

"Call the buzzer," I nodded, "thank you,"

Berna gave a final grin before scampering out of the now closed door. I looked up again, spinning around before falling onto the bed. This is too much, I chuckled to myself, I'm supposed to have the cheapest linen and eat the most common fast food, and now I'm here. In the palace.

I covered my face and groaned. This was not going how I expected.