Chapter Text
“Well, tax evasion suggests the person has made a lot of money. At least they have contributed to society by creating new jobs and so on.”
“Yeah, welfare scammers give nothing back, so that’s worse.”
Wilhelm looked around with a vague feeling of discomfort while the rest of the class chimed in: taxes were basically a scheme to bully successful companies and people who worked hard and made smart decisions, while anyone who lived off of other people’s tax money wasn’t much better than a common thief.
Drottningholm flashed through his thoughts. His whole life was basically financed by tax money. The frequent repairs on the 450-year-old castle. The amount of staff. The ornate rooms, the expensive phone that he got as a birthday gift from his parents, the engraved watch that Erik gave him, the skiing trips with his family, Erik’s extravagant car…
The teacher’s words roused him from his thoughts. “Wilhelm, do you want to share something with the rest of the class?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m…” He chewed his lip in hesitation, tried to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t want to stand out or seem defensive, especially on his first day of classes here at Hillerska. He gave a small shake of his head. “I’m not supposed to speak on political issues.”
It felt like a cop-out, and maybe it was.
**
Wilhelm started to feel a bit less out of place after his initiation party. His fellow first-years had ostensibly been nervous about hanging out with Wilhelm at first, but after he barfed all over his own shoes on the dance floor, they warmed up to him.
He got along well with Walter and Henry. They liked simple things, like gaming, watching sports on tv, staging sword fights with sticks in the forest, pulling pranks on each other, playing football. Boyish things. And there was of course his second cousin August, who had clearly taken to heart Erik’s request to look after Wilhelm, but whose constant presence and interference quickly started to get on his nerves.
He tried his best to fit in as well as he could, to go along with whatever his housemates did, careful not to stand out or draw attention to himself. So whenever his housemates sat in the common room discussing their crushes on girls, he did his best to chime in, even though those moments always had a gray lining of discomfort that only he seemed to notice. When they would talk about the girls’ lips and breasts and hips, Wilhelm found himself musing mostly about their style, their clothes, the smart things they said. Something about the whole business of it felt funny and disconnected, like there was some sort of half-finished thought he was unwilling to really consider, but that wasn’t something he’d admit out loud to anyone, not even to himself. At those moments, he felt profoundly alone.
After a week of exchanging friendly smiles with Felice, a girl he vaguely knew from preschool, she caught up with him on their way to math class.
“Will you join us at Manor House for the horror movie night?” she asked. “Should be fun.”
Wilhelm frowned. “Aren’t you going with August?” He knew that August had set his sights on her, and he didn’t want to interfere.
She twirled a lock of her hair and cocked her head to the side. “I’d rather go with you.”
A sense of dread settled in his chest. Initially, he’d been so happy to see a familiar face here at his new school, but now, her intense gaze pierced through the feeling of safety that he’d so carefully built up over the past few days. This was a familiar feeling: girls wanting his attention. He was never sure what to do in those moments. It didn’t even feel flattering. It wasn’t about him personally, after all, only about his title. His fucking title. Prince Wilhelm. If he’d been regular Wilhelm, with his skin blemishes and his floppy hair and his gangly limbs, she definitely wouldn’t have asked him.
So he shrugged. “I’ll see. I might be busy.”
He stayed in his room that Friday night, on a video call with his brother, until Henry and Walter literally dragged him out of his room, under the direction of August. He stopped resisting when they showed him the bottle of liquor they’d smuggled into the house, and volunteered to walk by himself. At least it would serve as a distraction. At Manor House, he avoided Felice’s gaze, keeping himself to the other side of the room. He drank half the bottle in ten minutes and then promptly fell asleep, only half awoken by the occasional yelps from his schoolmates at the scary scenes.
**
Wilhelm’s parents didn’t visit for Parents Day, and that wasn’t such a bad thing. Even if he was almost able to blend into the crowd here, his parents’ presence would absolutely obliterate any sense of normalcy. Sure, literally everyone he’d met at his new school had famous parents, aristocratic parents, unreasonably rich parents, or a combination of the three, but he wasn’t eager to remind everyone that he was a unique case among them. Apparently there had been some non-resident students in the past, people without privileged backgrounds, but it seemed weird to imagine regular people walking the ornate halls, except as staff.
As Wilhelm stepped into the dining room, he saw August gesturing eagerly to the chair next to him, and Felice making eyes at him from another table, and he almost turned back. But he’d promised Erik that he’d give it a go. Just shake hands , Erik had said. Pretend to be someone else. Of course Erik was right. Wilhelm had to start practicing his bullshit routine: putting on a smile and making small talk with people he wasn’t particularly excited about meeting. It was all part of the job of being a Prince, the job he was predestined to do for the rest of his life, no matter his life choices. As he was getting older, this sort of thing would be expected of him more and more, on all kinds of occasions, even if it wouldn’t be nearly as often as for Erik.
On second glance, he saw that Henry and Walter were also at Felice’s table. Alright then, at least they’d make the conversation bearable. So he pulled his face into a smile and joined their table, pretending not to notice the excited looks that Felice and her mother exchanged when he sat down with them.
After a round of welcomes, Felice’s mother asked him if he was still into horse riding.
“Sometimes,” he answered. “I’m actually more into rowing now. But Felice still rides. Right, Felice?”
She nodded. “Yes. I was just about to tell my parents that I almost quit riding. But I like hanging out with the staff at the stables. Maddie says she can sense that I’m more grounded after spending time with them.”
“The staff?” Felice’s mother frowned. “Felice, darling, the whole idea of being at this school is meeting like-minded people.” Her eyes shot back and forth between Felice and Wilhelm. “That would be good for your… personal development . Otherwise, we could have just sent you to a school closer to home.”
Felice rolled her eyes. “Mom. I hang out with like-minded people all the time in school. I can talk to normal people a few times a week.”
Wilhelm did his best to suppress a chuckle. Perhaps Felice was cooler than he’d given her credit for.
“Felice, tell us more about the staff,” he interjected before her parents could make further comments about which people were or weren’t appropriate to interact with. “What are they like? Where are they from?” One of the basic principles of small talk that he’d learned in his etiquette lessons was to ask questions. Almost everybody enjoyed talking about their own lives and their own experiences.
“There’s Marcus, who tends to the stables,” Felice said. “He’s a bit older than us, he finished school last year so this is his first real job. He lives in Bjärstad.” Seeing her mother’s worried expression, she quickly added, “Mom, don’t worry, I’m not going to date him, he has a boyfriend. His boyfriend’s sister, Sara, is at the stables a lot of the time as well after school, just to help with the horses. She loves being near them, and I guess she can’t afford one of her own.”
“That sounds nice,” Wilhelm said before Felice’s parents could get a word in. “Does Marcus’ boyfriend come to the stables too?”
“No, but Sara showed me some videos of him at karaoke night in Bjärstad. He’s an incredibly good singer.”
“Oh, but so are you, Felice!” Wilhelm pulled his face into a smile that hopefully looked genuine. “It was such an honor to be welcomed by the school choir on my first day. You must practice a lot.”
By now, Felice’s parents seemed to have calmed down a bit, and they chatted along more easily without Wilhelm having to steer the conversation away from conflict. Perhaps his interest in Felice’s life reassured her parents that they were getting along well enough for their liking.
**
The next morning, Wilhelm was just packing his bag to go home for the weekend when the school counselor knocked on the door of his dorm room. The counselor wordlessly gestured for him to come, and Wilhelm followed after him, confused and a bit impatient. Erik was about to pick him up soon and he wasn’t done packing yet.
Wilhelm smiled to himself in anticipation. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with his brother. Their parents were away on a state visit somewhere abroad, which would make the weekend even better. No scolding from his mother, no awkward talks with his father… Erik had taken the whole weekend off from his Crown Princely duties, so they could have an extended movie marathon together, even though the verdict was still out over whether they’d watch the first two Star Wars trilogies (Wilhelm’s choice) or the entire Fast & Furious franchise (Erik’s choice). They were planning to skip dinner from the palace kitchen and order pizza instead, and they’d surely get up to some yet-to-be-determined mischief, like running around the palace to stick googly eyes on all of the paintings.
The school counselor opened the door to the Headmistress’ office, where a modest assembly of tense faces were waiting for him.
Later, Wilhelm’s recollection of what happened in the principal’s office was vague and out of focus, as if he’d only seen it in a low-resolution video or an old black and white film.
“Am I in some kind of trouble?” he’d asked, just as a phone started ringing.
Someone picked up the phone and handed it to him.
“Wilhelm, it’s your mother.”
“Hey. What’s going on?”
**
Everyone started treating him differently after the funeral, most of all his own mother. All of a sudden, their interactions were more businesslike and more intimate at the same time. This must have been why Erik had always acted so naturally: he’d had a clear purpose. Wilhelm finally understood why he’d always felt like an outsider in his own family. His mother had an obvious role as Queen, his father had done his duty by helping to provide an heir, Erik had been the one with the future as King. Wilhelm had just been the backup. He had been superfluous by design, the only family member without any real purpose, as long as everything went well.
The weeks after Erik’s death were a sort of purgatory, a temporary holding place. In the car on the way back to school, he was glad to get out of the suffocating silence at the palace, but there was something bleak and forsaken about stepping through the front door of Hillerska again, like he was left standing alone on a cold bathroom floor, dripping and without a towel.
“I would like to thank the choir for the beautiful song. I also want to thank everyone for extending your condolences at this difficult time.”
Wilhelm gazed out at his schoolmates and the Hillerska staff, but he couldn’t manage to pull their faces into focus, as if they were standing behind a pane of frosted glass. He looked down at the speech that Jan-Olof had written for him and considered the words that he’d rehearsed over and over again in the car. Inadequate, inconsequential words.
“I know that Erik would have said: there’s no point in having a backup if you never use it.”
He gave a small chuckle at the thought, even though it turned his insides all askew. It was all he’d been able to think about since the first shock of Erik’s death had worn off. This had been Wilhelm’s purpose in life: to be the backup, only to come into play in the absolute worst case scenario.
“My brother was kind and thoughtful. He was my role model.”
Wilhelm did his best to keep the tremor out of his voice. His mother had told him in no uncertain terms that he was now supposed to be the role model. He’d have to be perfect. No more mistakes. The future of the monarchy now rested in his hands and on his shoulders. And he only had two years to learn everything, two years before he’d turn eighteen and then it would really get started, official duties and everything. He swallowed hard in an attempt to clear the tightness that was forming in his throat. Erik had seemed to be a natural at all of this, and he’d had plenty of time to prepare, knowing all his life that he would become King. Even with all the time in the world he would never measure up to Erik, but two years of preparation was absolute madness. The fear crept up into his chest. You have to be able to keep up appearances , Erik had said once. The faster you adapt, the easier your life will be.
Wilhelm forced himself to keep breathing. Picking up from where he left off, he spoke the closing words that he knew were on the paper in his hand, the words that he’d rehearsed.
“I will honor his legacy and become a Crown Prince my family will be proud of.”
It felt like he was taking a vow, pledging himself to a future he hadn’t chosen for himself.
**
After the memorial service, after his classmates’ tears had dried, life returned to normal for everyone else. Every day when Wilhelm woke up, there were a blissful few seconds of oblivion before reality hit him: his brother was dead and his life was changed forever. The presence of his bodyguards, always at the edge of his vision, always five to ten meters away, always listening through the thin door of his dorm room, served as a constant reminder that he wasn’t just Prince Wilhelm anymore. He was Crown Prince Wilhelm now, the future of the monarchy.
Another initiation into another society, a previously invisible inner circle within an inner circle. He wasn’t sure if it felt safe, or claustrophobic, or maybe both. He didn’t remember much of that night, except screaming against a wall, together with August. It hadn’t made him feel better. Still, screaming was better than crying. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry even once since Erik’s death, not even in the shower. First out of shock: he hadn’t been able to believe that it was real. And then, out of duty. He couldn’t be seen with red-rimmed eyes. He had to be strong. He was the Crown Prince now, and that was a privilege, not a punishment.
Whenever the heaviness in his head crossed over to a half-unconscious state where he felt on the brink of blacking out, Felice would somehow appear by his side, gently taking his arm to steer him towards the right classroom and sitting down next to him, allowing him to copy her notes afterward. Her looks were no longer suggestive or lustful, but compassionate. After class, she often invited him to join her and her friends at workies, even if he refused half the time because all he could do was sit in his room by himself and stare into space. She made evil eyes at anyone who dared ask him about Erik or about what it was like to be a Crown Prince.
**
“Your Majesty, dear mother, and beloved Hillis alumni.”
His parents beamed with pride when Wilhelm delivered his speech at Hillerska’s anniversary celebration a few months later. He did his best not to focus on their faces when he mentioned Erik in his speech, or even on the words he was saying, just to read them out loud from the cue cards in front of him, bypassing the conscious part of his brain.
He did his best to ignore the television camera that followed his every move. His insides had been churning with fear and panic for days, but fortunately, Felice had offered to help him prepare for the speech. Just look like you know what you’re doing , she’d said. And follow instructions. That’s all that matters. The performance is all they need from you. Apparently that was how she managed her picture-perfect Instagram persona, and she was confident that it would work for him as well. All he had to do was stand there, put on a brave face, and read the speech from the cue cards. Nothing more, nothing less.
A week earlier, he’d had the speech handed to him. Even just the idea of addressing the crowd had sent a sour surge of panic up into his throat, but it was something he’d have to learn to get used to. Being a royal meant that you were always an amalgamation of other people’s plans and ideas. Someone picked your clothes, someone wrote your words, someone planned your meetings, someone choreographed where you were supposed to sit or stand. In a sense, it was comfortable to hide behind the words given to him instead of having to come up with his own. Wilhelm wasn’t even sure who he was anymore, let alone what he was thinking or feeling or how to put anything into words in a way that other people would understand. Ever since Erik’s death, his insides had been all jumbled, his guts where his brains should be and vice versa. But that didn’t matter, and that was almost a relief. It allowed him to lock away all of his inconvenient emotions behind a series of thick walls and doors, like the old vault in the middle of the castle: his grief, his confusion, the magnitude of his inadequacy. He only had to treat his body as a puppet playing a role, and that actually gave him a sense of comfort.
“The school motto is: take your responsibility for the legacy. Be proud of your history. Pass on the traditions to the next generation.”
At a certain point, the crowd applauded, so apparently he’d gotten through the speech. He smiled vaguely and walked back to his seat, while his parents beamed at him. He looked up towards his classmates to catch Felice’s eye. She smiled broadly and gave him a thumbs-up. It did give him a sense of accomplishment, having pulled off this trick where he tried to make himself look and act like a Crown Prince, even if he had no idea what he had just said. Apparently it had worked. Despite everything, he was still here, and if this was the way to go forward, holding the reins of his public persona and walking it along the path that other people laid out for him, then so be it.