Page 68 of Roaming Holiday

“No, in a cottage,” Vanessa says dreamily. “I have chickens there.”

Maia sits up at that, a scandalous hand to her chest. “You have pet chickens and you never told me? I’m hurt.”

I shake my head, refusing to get sidetracked. I stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to become another privileged socialite who worries about doing enough public charity work to save my reputation.”

“Well, that’s specific.”

Vanessa nods. “I understand.”

The more time I spend in this country, the more I feel like Ophelia’s daughter. “I think Mom would want us to be here.”

“You’re the one who said we shouldn’t inherit a country because of our mommy issues.” She lies back down, propping on her elbow. “We’re the type who talk about dismantling a system, not joining it.”

I cover my face with my hands and groan. “If only we could just do both.”

Maia chuckles and says, “If only.”

But I hesitate.

What if we can do both?

“Wait,” I whisper, sitting up in anticipation. “Let’s do that.”

“Do what?” Maia asks.

“Both!” I spin around to face them, sitting back on my heels. “Let’s join the institution to take it apart!”

Vanessa matches my sister’s position, propping onto her elbow.

“They wouldn’t let us do that,” Maia says.

“Think about it. The Court is fighting for us because they want to change the fact that over half the country wants to get rid of the monarch system. But Maldanians love their tradition and history, so what if the crown ends with us and we spend our careers making sure the institution is getting a proper close?”

My sister tilts her head, her big mandala earrings swishing forward before disappearing into her curls. “Nina, that’s crazy.”

“A lot of people would lose their jobs,” Vanessa argues.

“Someone tried to kill me,” I say, shutting them up. “He was part of a group called Lo Revínastí and even though they’re violent criminals, they fight for what most Maldanians want. Who knows if it’ll become the next French Revolution? If I accept the crown, they’ll be a constant threat. To save jobs, we can—we’ll have openings by turning different properties into museums. Even a hotel! Do you know how much tourist revenue that would make?”

After a long, considering moment, Vanessa says, “I… I think that’s a great idea.”

“And the housing!” I exclaim. “We could either redirect funds or sell items to help build more homes and pay contractors to make the current ones safer.”

Maia snatches my arm as an idea pops into her head. “We could use sustainable materials, too!”

“I—sure!” I don’t know what sustainable building materials are, but she’s excited about it, so it must be great. With each passing moment, we come up with more ideas about what we could do.

We did it. We found a solution.

Since learning that my attacker was with a militia, the security team wants to move Maia and me into the royal palace until further notice once we return to Kosita.

“What a bummer,” Maia had said.

We stayed another few days in Antina before taking a three-hour car ride back to the city. I step into my room, ready to pack, and find Dad sitting on the couch twiddling his thumbs.

“Hi,” he says.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Hi.”

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