When I went away to school last month, I was afraid I’d be homesick. I envisioned myself on the phone to my parents or Georgie every couple of hours, but that’s not how things played out. My roommates, Sophia and Claudia, quickly became my substitute family. Sophia, of course, I’d known for years. But even in just a month, Claudia was as close to me as another sister. And now I can’t be in touch with them. Even worse, Sophia has cut me off. Now I’m feeling the homesickness I thought I’d feel at school. I’m homesick for my friends as well as everything else.
Maybe a video would reach them, even if nothing else did. It’s worth a try.
Henri is still in the kitchen, and Mam and Georgie are upstairs. I pull out my phone.
“Hallo, Prinzessin Fredericka here. Home is more than just mountains and streams. It is friends. I miss my friends, Claudia, Sophia, and everyone. I hope to see you soon. Prost!”
I upload the video and check the comments on some of the other ones. They’ve been viewed or shared hundreds of thousands of times. #PrinzessinFredericka is even trending. Maybe I really can make a difference with the videos.
I pull Sir Fred out of the bag and hold him close, tears coming to my eyes. Pap gave this to Felix to give to me. Pap is thinking about me and worrying that I’m missing my teddy bear, even with everything else he has to worry about. With the videos, I really do have the power to reach him, to help him. Felix is right that Pap should be here with us. He should be someplace where he doesn’t have to worry about his physical safety so he can concern himself with winning back the country.
Pap isn’t in the habit of taking advice from me, but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to try. If I don’t sound like a whiny kid, but instead like someone who has thought this out carefully, maybe it will be better received. I stick my bear back in the bag. Having my teddy bear by my side would not make me look like a reasoned, thoughtful, mature person.
There is no sound from upstairs. In the kitchen, I hear Henri running water. I have to assume he’ll be in there at least long enough for me to make one more video.
I take a deep breath and start.
“Hallo, Prinzessin Fredericka here. This message is for my pap. It is not safe for you there. Come here, with us, to regroup and save the country. Colsteinburg needs you, but so do we. I miss you. Ich leibe dich.” This video I end with “I love you” instead of “cheers.” It seems more appropriate.
I upload the video.
The doorbell rings, and I jump. Is it Felix? Did he decide to come here and see Mam after all? Is it a news crew? Is it the person who threatened Georgie? I can’t make myself get up and answer the door. Luckily, I don’t have to. Henri is already striding to the door.
He opens it, and I am very relieved to see Mister Hart on the other side.
He nods to Henri. “Mr. Behr, nice to see you again. May I come in and speak to Her Majesty?”
“Of course,” Henri says and moves aside.
The two men notice me curled up on the sofa.
“Your Royal Highness,” Henri says, “You remember Ambassador Thomas Hart, don’t you?”
I stand and smile and nod. “Of course,” I say, holding my hand out to him. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Why is he here? Is it because of the threat against Georgie? Because of the reporters? Is he going to tell me and Georgie we shouldn’t have spoken to them? Does he have news from home? Is it bad news?
“The pleasure is mine, Fredericka,” he says, taking my hand.
Henri goes upstairs to get Mam and Georgie, leaving me alone with the ambassador for a moment. I want to ask him all kinds of questions about home, but he probably has things he wants to tell all of us together.
“How are you finding your temporary home?” he asks.
“It’s very nice,” I say. “Thank you again for letting us use it.”
Before he can answer, Mam and Georgie come downstairs, and Mam greats Ambassador Hart like the old friend he is. Soon we are all sitting around the living room, waiting for whatever it is Mr. Hart came here to tell us.
He clears his throat and frowns. He does not look like a person who has good news to share. “Things are very unsettled right now. I spoke with Ivan Frank. He’s lost touch with His Majesty.”
Lost touch with? What does that mean? I grab Georgie’s hand.
“Do they know where he is?” Georgie asks.
“Not at the present time, no.”
“How can you just lose a king?” I ask.
Georgie squeezes my hand.
Mr. Hart shakes his head sadly. “I do not know what’s going on over there. The reports we are getting are very contradictory.”
“Do you think Frederick is still alive?” Mam asks, her voice surprisingly controlled.
Mr. Hart nods. “Yes, Your Majesty, I do. If he were not, the other side would be quick to use that to their advantage.”
“We need to go home!” I say. “We need to find Pap!”
Georgie puts her free hand on my knee. “We can’t help him. We need to let others do that.” I don’t see why. Except that others have training and experience and equipment and things like that.
Mam is sitting straight and regal in the armchair, her hands folded in her lap. She almost looks a little like her old self.
“Is there anything we can do to help Frederick?” she asks.
Mr. Hart tugs at his tie and clears his throat again. “Until he gets in touch with us, Your Majesty, we won’t know what kind of help he needs.”
“But you’re looking for him? Right?” I ask. “I mean, someone is.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness, someone is.”
“And what about the reporters?” Mam asks. “Our hiding spot has been compromised. What should we do? Should we find a new place to stay?”
“I’m working on it. It may take a few days.” He turns to Henri. “Can you keep this place secure until then?”
Henri nods. “It is under control.”
Henri’s notion of keeping us safe is keeping us locked up. We didn’t flee from our home to be prisoners, did we? What if Felix is right and Henri can’t be trusted? Then what? And how is any of this helping Pap? I can’t even ask these questions. I need to get away, but there’s nowhere I’m allowed to go. I run upstairs. They don’t need me at their little meeting anyway; I’m just a kid. I throw myself on the bed I share with Georgie and swallow hard a couple of times to keep from crying. Crying will not help.
So what can I do?
Not much. But I can make another video.
I check myself in the mirror and decide I look respectable enough. I take a deep breath and turn the camera back on.
“Hallo! Prinzessin Fredericka here. I love you all, and I love Colsteinburg. I also love my father, King Frederick. If anyone has seen him, please let me know. We are worried about his safety. Danke.”
I don’t end with “Prost” this time. “Cheers” doesn’t seem like a good way to conclude this video.
I upload the video and share it, and this time I stay online to see if there are any responses.
The responses start almost right away, but no one has seen Pap.
Everyone is real apologetic and hopes we track him down soon. They all sound concerned. These are not people who really want to overthrow the government, I’m sure of it. People who support the monarchy are out there; we just need to make sure they can have their voices heard.
There are a few who say hateful things, like they hope he is dead, but I try to ignore those.
The door opens, and Georgie peeks in.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I show her the latest video and the responses to it. “No one has seen Pap. Do you think he’s okay?”
Georgie reads the messages. “I hope so,” she says.
“We should go home and find him.”
She shakes her head. “You heard what Mr. Hart said. It’s not safe. We’ll show this to him and Henri. They have the contacts who can help Pap.”
I suppose that is true, but something about the statement bothers me. “Why don’t we have the contacts?” I ask. “We’re the royal family. We know everyone. Or at least everyone knows us.”
“What we don’t know,” Georgie says softly, “is who we can trust.”
I shiver and try to tamp down the sick feeling that comes over me. “We can trust Ambassador Hart, right?” And what about Henri? And Felix? Can we really trust anyone other than ourselves?
“He gave us his house,” Georgie says.
“But what if it’s a trick?”
“I think we can trust him.”
I’d feel a lot better if she hadn’t added “I think” to that sentence.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“I know,” Georgie says. She rubs my back, and the gentleness of the gesture almost makes me want to cry. I wait for her to tell me it will all be all right, that we just have to give it time. She doesn’t say that.
“I want to go home,” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “I know, but we can’t. It’s not safe.”
“But we could do something to help. I know we can.”
“We can’t, Fritzi. You just have to accept that.”
I am not going to accept that. I’m also not going to argue with Georgie about it. That would be particularly unproductive.
“What about Mam?” I ask. “Do we have to accept that she’s disappeared into herself? Shouldn’t she be home where she can get help?”
“She’s doing better. Maybe everything’s going to be okay if we just give it time.”
But how much time will it take? How much do we have?
“You know what would make Mam better? Getting her home so she can be queen again.”
Georgie nods. “You have to have patience, Fritzi.”
But I’m out of patience.