Mum insisted I was up before morning, which mean I'd only had a proper hour or two of sleep. The house was undergoing a small storm, clothes were being exchanged, advice was being thrown. I ducked and weaved, looking for that one brush I really loved.

"She's going to need a lot of formal clothing," Mum insisted. My father sat at the table, looking attacked. So much for his day off.

"She's doing causal interviewing work!" Dad insisted, "not that formal!" The washing machine squeaked the end of its cycle which sent Mum into another spin.

"Justek!" She cried, "get on that right now!"

"Okay!" He called, sprinting through the house. Feodor watched the chaos from the doorway of his room. Klara was grabbing something or other from outside in the garage.

"Mum!" I cried, "it's only ten days,"

"I don't care!" She huffed, "if you're working with royalty you're going to need a minimum of two outfits every day!" She traded one of my pairs of jeans for a working skirt. I sighed, looking to dad for help. He shrugged.

"I need to be there at ten, not seven," I mumbled.

"Where's your passport?" She stood suddenly, searching around, "I think this bag is too big, you don't want to look like a handful turning up,"

"I'm sure they have some kind of a washing machine with them Mum," I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.

"A prince," She gushed, "I can't believe you're travelling with a prince,"

"Working for him," I corrected.

"What will you even do?" She stopped suddenly as a thought struck. I could recognise that look from a mile away.

"No," I insisted, "it's not like that,"

"Are you sure?" She asked carefully, "because this is very suspect, the sweeping in and taking you away and all,"

"He travels a lot," I scoffed, "and its not like Ardeena is exactly central,"

She thought to herself for a while, then considered my point. "Honey put these in, they go great with that shirt, I need to sit down," Mum handed me the folded singlets and I slipped them in the bag. Slowly, she made her way back to her wheelchair. A little part of me twisted. I should be staying home, looking after my mother.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" My voice was low in the chaos of three other children.

She nodded, the crows feet around her eyes deepening.

"You always worried about me so much. I'll be fine, I've got Feodor and Justek and Klara when she'd feeling helpful," A quick eye roll. Klara was on her phone in the background.

"If you ever need help. Let me know and I'll come right back, okay?" I held her hand tightly.

"I'm not completely helpless," She chided, "your father can be useful... occasionally,"

We giggled as Dad looked up, an accusatory look on his face.

"Well, time for breakfast," She regained her composure. Ever the housewife. Everyone else must be fed and taken care of before she's even allowed to mention a struggle.

Hanna, after being fully briefed on what was going on and how it was going down last night, arrived. She handed me her favourite baggage tag and we made a promise to keep in touch.

"Would you like some breakfast Hanna?" My Mum asked. Hanna, who looked as equally as tired as I felt, grinned, nodding.

"Of course, Melania!" She beamed, "how could I refuse?"

My mother grinned at that and served us up a hearty egg-in-the nest with a side of fruit salad. After that, Hanna and I gave one another a tight embrace. Even though I'd be returning in ten days, she'd already be on her trip exploring the world.

"We're going to see each other again," I vowed after we broke our hug. She nodded, blinking away tears.

"Of course," She put on her best grin, "I just wish you were coming with me... Or even the other way around," We laughed.

"There'll always be more time for coffee dates and long chats and packing down royal affairs," I scoffed, she grinned. The two of us laughed. We shared a moment, giving one another a tight hug before she jumped into her tiny sedan and sped up and away out of the driveway.

A part of me twisted, watching her go.

There's always a sentimentality in watching someone go, I decided, surprising myself with the deepness. I should write that in my journal.

The time waiting for nine-thirty to arrive moved quickly. I spent a lot of it making sure the house was as clean as possible; picking up the towels, hanging out the washing, folding last night's washing. At one point, I snagged my siblings, making them promise to be as helpful as they could around the house.

"You're only gone for ten days," Klara rolled her eyes.

"And you're historically useless around the house," I scowled, hoping my voice was as scathing as possible. "So it's time to pick up your butt, okay?"

Klara huffed, her eyes flicking towards the ceiling. The boys chuckled. I made sure to give them all a lasting hug, however insistent on Klara was making sure that I knew that she was still bitter.

We loaded ourselves into the family van, my bags squished up in the back. Loosing myself in the chatter of family life was my favourite part.

"Has everyone got their things?" Dad shouted. The checklist ran; shoes, jacket, Bible etc. Soon enough, after a false start, everyone was locked and loaded.

Ardeena ran by in a blur and I committed the landscape to memory. The Chesno Mountainside to the South, the grassy trees to the side, the sprawling suburbs. All of it holding a thousand and one childhood memories.

I would return here, I insisted, almost promising myself. It's not like I'm leaving forever.

The first stop was dropping Mum and the kids at church. I embraced her, our hug incredibly tight.

"Be safe," She managed a smile, her voice wobbled, she patted down my white blouse which had been paired with a conservative skirt and stockings after much deliberation, "don't be seen in the same room alone together, be diligent, work extra hard,"

"It's okay Mum," I held her hand, giving it an extra squeeze, "I'll see you in ten days,"

"Of course," she nodded sheepishly, "you text us as much as you can, okay?"

Cas' unreturned phone was heavy in my pocket. I guess according to last night, it was mine now. "I know your number," I assured her. We gave one another a lasting smile before she was rolled inside.

Dad and I exchanged few words. However, when he got to the airfield; a small processing building and pretty much an open field ringed by wired fencing, he turned to me.

"Promise me you'll be safe?" He asked, his voice serious and full of fatherly concern. I scoffed.

"Dad- ugh, yes I'll be okay,"

"Promise," he spoke slowly.

"I promise I'll be as safe as I can," I assured him.

"Now," his voice set, "about this prince guy,"

"Oh my goodness Dad," I scoffed, looking to the heavens, please help me.

"I know what they're like, I've had the unfortunate pleasure of working with some of his other siblings," I rolled my eyes, looking at him, "so, you need to be careful, and modest and conservative, and if he approaches you like that, aloof. You are above him, okay?"

"He's a prince Dad, not that far above him,"

Dad sighed, looking back to the airfield. For a second, I thought he was finished. However, knowing my Dad, he wasn't one to finish without a swelling, motivational speech. He gathered his thoughts.

"Do you know what our last name means?"

I search my memory uncertainly. Of course, as I was leaving, Dad would give me a reminder on the honour of our name and the like. I shut my mouth, waiting for him to give me the rundown.

"I owe you my life, my armour," He said the words with such a delicate reverence that I kept quiet about possibly being late for the departure. The air held thick, pulsing with the stories of my ancestors. "You are the eldest of the latest addition to this family,"

My chest twisted, thinking about my long gone brother. He was the one that was supposed to hold the O'Zbrojaski name. As soon as I got married, it would die off with me.

"The 'o' comes from your great-great-great grandfather, who saved Apolia's highest general in The Battle of Wysokie Wzgórze," A part of me stilled. The Battle of Wysokie Wzgórze was the final fight where Apolia finally established it's independence from the rule of its oppressors, "that general, who would later become Apolia's first king,"

I looked to Dad, a weathered glint in his eye. He was not his own, possessed by the spirit of five generations of history. He looked to me, it was time to pass that spirit.

"You asked me when you were young what our family did. We've protected the rightful ruler of Apolia. For generations, your great-great-great grandfather, your great-great grandfather, your great grandfather, your grandfather, me? Not so much. For a while I thought Feodor would, then Justek. But it seems to be you instead,"

"I'm just a consultant," I dismissed, shaking my head, "an assistant at best,"

My father gave me a watchful eye, "Royal Tour teams are tight, you'll be asked to do many things. I want you to be aware of that, and to know that you can do that,"

I nodded firmly, "I know I can,"

"You know the importance of fighting for the bigger picture," My father affirmed, "I don't have to remind you of that... just, stay as safe as possible,"

"I know," My words were short. However, this time they weren't accompanies by a dragging of the syllables or a rolls of the eyes. But an affirmation of the vow, a true understanding of what I might have to do.

Yet, as we waved goodbye and the glass doors of the airport slid between us, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was severely underestimating what that promise entailed.

"You made it!" Cas grinned, his arms in the air. The airport entailed a sleek design, clearly for private and aristocratic use. Glass windows made up the entirety of one side of the airport. A security guard hung around, looking serious. An attendant hung at the information desk with her hair in a tight bun. A newsagent, a car rental and a currency exchange were lined up against the opposing wall. Each of them cheerily glinting, yet unattended. Aside from that, only Vlad, Cas and another busy-looking woman and man were in the terminal.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologised, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

"Don't even worry," He grinned, turning to walk with me to Vlad and the other woman, "you're early anyway!"

We reached the three of them. Vlad gave me a nod of the head while the woman quickly looked up then down to her tablet again. The final man looked well groomed and his eyes were alight.

"Sofia, this is Patrycja, she's our programme coordinator and personal assistant," Patrycja looked up, giving a small smile. Her face was rather round but nowhere close to overweight. Her light, almost white, blonde hair was pulled back into an efficient ponytail. I resisted touching my messier one.

"Lovely to meet you, Sofia," Her capitol accent gave a slight posh lilt to her words. "So nice to finally have another woman on the team," She embraced me into a big hug, pulling back in a flash. Her acrylic nails continued clicking away at her tablet.

"And this is Marek," Cas turned to the incredibly well groomed man. Marek's hair was almost a frosted white and was flat and sturdy enough to balance a sheet of paper on. His posture was rigid, his hand gracefully clasping one another. He was probably in his early thirties and looked at me up and down with a frigid look in his eyes. Suddenly he almost jumped to attention in welcoming me, his movements effortless and without the burden of gravity.

"Oh so lovely to meet you Sofia," I smiled, shaking his hand. His words had a little more 'common slang' to them but still held a dignified composure, "Like Patrycja said, always wonderful to have new additions to the team!"

"Thank you," I smiled to my cheeks.

"Marek is our Digital Officer and Communications, as well as Hair and Makeup," Cas explained. I turned to Marek with a raised brow.

"Head of Image," Marek corrected, holding a hand to his chest. He winked to me, almost mock whispering, "though it's been an easy few days,"

"Well I hope you're ready for some actual work" Cas joked, turning back to the terminal, "shall we?"

The others had already handed their bags in to the crew to be loaded up. A stern looking assistant came up to me and Vlad hung around to make sure that there wasn't anything suspicious.

"Standard procedure," Vlad explained, "nothing personal,"

I made sure to give my best grin, all while thanking my mother for insisting on keeping my under garments in a select bag. My father had suggested where fits best. It'd been the subject of a serious debate.

I was approved, and my bags were sent off with the crew. Apparently, once we got into the thick of it, I would probably have my bags on board for ease of use. For now, it was only small trips.

Cas was talking over schedule with Patricja and Marek when I arrived, Vlad behind me.

"Time to go!" Patricja grinned. "We've still got three events today!"

The five of us moved outside onto the tarmac. The wind had picked up slightly and I stopped in shock. I'd only flown twice, to domestic locations but I still wasn't expecting to see what I saw. A sleek, black jet with grey accents awaited us. The opening ramp was awaiting the team. Vlad, Marek and Patricja forged ahead, probably used to it.

"Pretty cool hey?" Cas grinned.

I shook off my stupor. We were going in that! Instead, opting for a more casual approach, "I mean, I've seen some really cool drones in my time," My voice almost held to the charade. Cas chuckled, looking to me.

"Probably funded by the state,"

I beamed, glad that he noticed our little joke. Cas hair was flicking back and forth slightly in the breeze. I was surprised that with a personal hairdresser Marek would let it get that long.

"Are we really travelling in that?" I turned back to him, my voice rising above the wind.

He nodded to it and we began to follow the others. Vlad hung at the top of the jet stairs while the others were already inside.

"I mean, why not just travel commercially?" I took a tentative first step, Cas following me, "wouldn't it be cheaper?"

"Private travel is funded by our personal investments," Cas explained, "besides, travelling private allows me to do four state visits in a day instead of just one or two. Over the course of a few weeks, that stacks up very quickly. More hands to shake, events to attend, but most importantly, people to meet and discuss with on reform,"

We reached the top of the stairs and I entered, suppressing a gasp. Breathing out, I turned back to Cas. "Well, when you put it like that," Cas was incredibly close behind me, I noticed. Probably closer than what my parents would consider acceptable. Cas was very quiet, looking down at me. He was a head taller than me but I'd always gotten a sturdy comfort from him. The thought of it sent me into a blushing spree and I took a step back, looking away. "That's what it's about; remaining focused on the goal," I cleared my throat, the two of us seemingly just hanging out in the front of the jet.

"Always," Cas insisted, then he chuckled at an untold memory, "never forget the mission,"

Outside, the jet worked through its startup sequence. Cas and I took this time to find our seats. I took a moment to study the interior of the plane a little better. There was a section of desks with seating around them in the classic, airline style. Probably for impromptu board meetings, debriefings and meals. A tv flicked through channels as Marek searched for an appropriate news outlet. The dining/meeting area backed onto a lounge section. Probably best for drinks around the small table and sleeping. Then there was a wall behind that. With a bit of peeking, I found the female bunks. Patricja introduced the top one as mine.

"They're really just for incredibly long nights," She explained, "usually when we're jumping between locations,"

It was cute, a small space for our items to fit into and a window to display the floating world outside. Next door was Marek and Vlad's bunks and Cas' private room and study next to that. Medical area, kitchen, toilet, bathroom and a communications area was behind that.

"This is really cool," I whispered to Patricja as we strapped ourselves in at the table near Marek. The flight attendant went through the motions of the safety briefing and soon enough, we were flying.