After the challenge of convincing my mother that this was the best option for everyone, I packed almost all my things, picked up my last paycheck from Shake It Up, Chicago!, and said my goodbyes. I was slightly surprised that Gunther had a private plane but then I remembered he was a King. Still hard to believe that a kid that I grew up with, is now a king. Gunther has been unsure this entire time and still thinks that Tinka should've stepped up and fulfilled her duty. I keep telling him that Tinka had more reasons to stay then I did. She has a better job, she has more responsibility with that job, a blossoming love with a guy that she has had a crush on for years, and alot of responsibility at school. I have a dance job and school, that was it.
Anyway, we are about an hour and a half into our ten hour flight. Gunther says we should get there around 6:30PM Dauvachee (that's the name of the Old Country) time. He said that the servants are preparing a meal for us when we arrive. I'm still not sure that I'm comfortable with have people wait on me but the king of Dauvachee, a.k.a. Gunther, informed me that I am now considered royalty. Guess I'll get used to it.
"Journal?" came Gunther's deep voice from behind me. I closed my book and set my pen down before turning to him.
Taking the glass of cidar he was offering, I replied, "Yeah. I figure that this is the biggest decision I have ever made so why not document it."
Gunther smiled. I got a tingly feeling inside again. Something about him smiling always made me feel the tingle, which kinda confused me. The king took a seat across from me. "I thought you might be a little more in awe at the fact that I own a jet. And if not at that then at the fact that you are riding in an extremely expensive private jet," he admitted, taking a sip of his own drink.
I looked around the glamorous aircraft. Everything was detailed with perfection. We were in the seating area which contained four seats that could been swivled in every direction. The seats were comfy leather recliners with specific settings. The walls of the plane were pulled in a few feet from the floor creating shelf type places between all the seats. There were windows lining the cabin, lights strung across the ceiling (which was high enough that Gunther didn't have to duck when walking through), an automatic door on each side of the room, and a 60" TV beside the kitchen door. The one door led to the kitchen area and the other led to the restrooms and cockpit. Most of the cabin was accented with wood which had fancy designs carved into it.
I looked back at Gunther. "Trust me. I am internally screaming right now," I answered. "It's still hard to believe that you own this thing, though."
"Well technically you own it too now," he comented, setting his glass of cidar beside his chair. "And this isn't even the biggest one. Our newest jet has a hot tub."
I almost choked on my cidar. Had I understood that right? "Wait. You have a plane...with a hot tub in it," I quetioned, whiping my mouth with a napkin.
Gunther chuckled. "Yep. And you do too," he replied with a wink. He grabbed the remote and began browsing through the TV channels.
'Well this is gonna be interesting,' I thought, wondering what other surprises were in store.
"What's the diffence between the Sea Salt and Carmel candies and the Salted Carmel candies?" I questioned, entering the seating cabin from the kitchen.
Gunther thought for a moment before replying. "The name," he stated, taking a drink of his cidar.
We were about nine hours and thirty minutes into our ten hour flight and both of us were getting weary of the small cabins. I had written a page or two in my journal but figured I'd have a lot more interesting things to write about once we landed. I chuckled at Gunther's previous comment as I sat on my seat, simultaneously popping a salted carmel into my mouth.
"So. Tell me about Dauvachee," I said, reclining in my seat comfortably.
Gunther picked the remote up and turned the TV off before turning to me. "Well what do you want to know?" he asked.
"Everything. I don't remmeber much from my 2 day trip," I shugged. "What's the weather like? Does it have beaches? Is it big?"
Gunther smiled warmly as he thought of his beloved home. "Extreme seasons, yes, and not really," he replied. I raised an eyebrow, prodding him to explain. "If its summer, its extremely hot and if its winter, its extremely cold. Dauvachee is a small island in the Atlantic. We are rich because our steady supply of oil and gold that we supply the world with. But we tend to keep to ourselves. So yes we have beaches and no it is not very big."
As he talked, I became more and more excited. This place sounded amazing! And with it being the begining of August, I will have just missed the scorching heat. "I can't wait to get there!" I exclaimed, picturing myself frolicking on the beaches and then snuggled up in a blanket next to the fire. My winter hallucination added Gunther snuggled close to me. I blushed at the thought but tried to hide it. Afterall, the source of my shaded cheeks was sitting a few feet from me.
"You seem awfully calm and excited about moving halfway across the world to preform a life-changing role," the king commented, taking my attention away from my hallucination. "Aren't you worried or at least nervous? I mean, you're moving to an island where you know no one, are surrounded by unfamiliar sights, and are taking a role considered sacred."
I thought carefully over my next words. "Not really, to be honest," I answered truthfully. "By the first week, I should be familiar with the areas and I am confident that, with some studying, I can learn to advise wise choicess. And besides, I won't know no one. I'll know you."
Gunther couldn't hold back a smile. He took a sip of his beverage, trying to keep me from noticing. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke up. "It really was very kind of you to take Tinka's place. She loves this country but she always wished that she could live a normal life in America. Being royalty is something she has grown to dispise."
"I would've thought she would make a great queen," I said without much thought. "Speaking of which, does your island only have kings or can a woman inherit the throne?"
The king across from me placed his glass carefully on a side table. "Well the first born Prince has the right, then if there are no sons the first born Princess, and if there are no children of the King and Queen then the right goes to the closest male relative. But most Kings end up getting a Queen and children."
"Is that how your father and mother got to know each other? By her being an advisor?"
"Yes actually," Gunther replied with a smile. "Most Kings are either married to, related to, or childhood friends with their advisors."
I nodded. "This monarchy thing actually intrigues me. Which is surprising considering how much I disliked politics class."
"Well I sure hope you would be interested in monarchy. There is still much for you to learn, though. Princes and Princesses are taught the ways of the kingdom from when they start to talk to their coronation day and still don't know quite everything," Gunther replied, looking out the window.
"What about the advisors? They aren't necessarily trained, are they? Surely there is no way of telling who the king will choose?"
Gunther looked back at me. He was smiling and I could tell he loved talking about his country. "Not exactly. But the relatives closest to the future king, the women most possible to be the next queen, and the closest friends of the future king are all trained to be advisors, in case the king were to choose any of them. If the king-to-be were to grow distant from a childhood friend, the friend would stop her training, just as if he would grow close to someone as he ages they would begin training."
I was quiet for a moment, processing what he just told me. "So even the advisors are trained from a young age. What will happen to me? How will I do? I've never been taught what decisions are the best," I exclaimed, slowly sliding into panic. "I can't even decide between chocolate and vanilla ice cream! How am I supposed to get training to advise wisely while already advising horribly! The people will start a riot and kick me out but I won't have enough money to get a plane ticket home so then I'll have to build a raft but then in the middle of the ocean a storm will blow me off course and I'll end up in Spain and they'll arrest me cause I have no proof of identification and then I'll be thrown into prison and have to spend the rest of my life eating bland food and wearing the color orange!" My mind whirled with alternate ideas of how this could go wrong.
"Actually, I don't think inmates have to wear prison uniforms in Spain," Gunther replied, calmly taking a sip of his cider.
I stared at him for a second. "Really? That's what you say to comfort me? Gunther! I'm freaking out right now! And you're not helping!"
"You were so chill a minute ago. Go back to that. You don't want your first impressions to be bad," he replied.
His words still had no comfort in them but I realized he was right. I took a few breathes, calming myself, while trying to convince myself that I'd do fine.
"And," he continued upon seeing my apparent expression. "You're smarter then you think Cece. You'll catch on quick."
I felt my stomach do a somersault. I shook my head, giving myself a mental talking to. "Stop it! He's being a good friend so stop being so blushy and giddy."
Gunther, looking out the window, continued before I could reply. "Besides, it's too late," he said with a smirk. "We're already here."
Sorry about the wait guys! I got serious writer's block with like all my stories. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Please REVIEW! It helps a lot!