The road to Hillsborough

Rowan’s POV

I tried not to imagine what boarding school would be like. The new lifestyle, new people, different ethnicity and style. I've heard a lot about Hillsborough but none of them were good news.

Now, I'm going there as the only means of punishment. The word punishment hovered in my mind, uninvited and stubborn, piercing onto my soul like a spear. No matter how many times it has been dressed up as an opportunity or structure or a necessary step, I can't get over it. I just can't accept it.

I leaned back against the leather seat of the limousine, my arms folded, staring at nothing in particular. The car hummed softly beneath us, smooth and controlled, as though even motion itself had been trained to behave.

My brother, Henry sat opposite me, his knees angled slightly toward mine, his posture perfect in a way that annoys me now. He always looked like someone who had made peace with expectation. Or perhaps he had simply learned to wear it better than I ever could.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said as though his observation was something new.

I glanced at him. “Someone has to think on behalf of the family.”

“We all know you're not in the position to do that,” he said, not unkindly.

Now, I was glaring at him. “That's a strong accusation you are throwing my way.”

Ignoring my frown, he smiled faintly. “I mean if you had your anger in check, you wouldn't have to move.”

“That is just a flimsy excuse,” I replied immediately. “It was just a matter of time.”

“You’re treating this like it is an exile. Rowan, it is just a boarding school.”

This time, I didn’t answer immediately. Words had weight in this family. You learned early not to waste them. “Easy to say,” I said finally.

Henry sighed, leaning back. “Rowan, it’s just a school, not a dungeon.”

“A school I was sent to ask a punishment because I embarrassed our royal status” I replied.

“That’s not…” He stopped himself, then tried again. “That’s not a good way to put it.”

I watched him closely. Henry doesn't know how to lie but being the crown prince has taught him how to sugarcoat things. “Then what is the “good way” to put it?”

He held my gaze. “let’s just say… he paused for a few seconds. ”...It’s a stepping stone.

“Stepping stone?” I almost laughed. That kind of mocking laugh.

“You’ve been… stagnant. This will give you the chance to flow again. It is a safe space to grow. To be something without every eye on you.”

Again, I almost laughed. “Every eye will still be on me. It is a Hillsborough for crying out loud.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Henry said. “The distance is all that matters.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking. Although I know that distance has never protected anyone in our family. It only made it easier to be forgotten.

The car shifted slightly as it turned, and I caught my reflection in the darkened window. I looked calm and that was the problem. I always looked calm, too calm. People mistook it for indifference, as if my silence meant arrogance.

Across from us, my father cleared his throat. I've been avoiding eye contact with him. But the king of Ashbourne has a way of getting anyone's attention.

“Rowan,” he said.

I straightened without thinking. “Yes, Father.”

“This is not a punishment, neither a sentence,” he continued. “It is an investment. When the time is right, you would do well to remember that.”

I had a lot to say. I wanted to argue. To disagree with him. To tell him that he was lying. But I didn't. Instead, I nodded. “Of course.”

“You will conduct yourself appropriately,” he added. “No incidents, no scandals, no… distractions. No news at all.”

At the perfect time, my brother shot me a warning look, subtle but unmistakable.

“I understand,” I said.

My father studied me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a single approving nod, he returned his attention to the tablet in his lap. Encouragement from him often came as warmth, as a means to make me accept the unacceptable. To say yes without asking questions.

And then there was my mother.

The Queen sat beside him, composed as ever, her gloved hands folded neatly, her gaze fixed straight ahead. She hadn’t looked at me once since we entered the car. Her mouth was set in a thin line, not quite a frown, but close enough to make the difference irrelevant.

I waited for her to say something. Anything. But she said nothing.

The silence from her was louder than any rebuke. It meant disappointment without the courtesy of explanation. It meant I had failed in a way that words could not correct.

My brother noticed, of course, he always did. “Mother,” he said gently, “Rowan will be fine.”

Her eyes flicked toward him, then briefly… so briefly it moved toward me. There was no softness or compassion there. Assessment was the only thing I saw.

“Hillsborough has its own reputation,” she said coolly. “I hope he will not damage it.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I won’t.”

She inclined her head slightly, as if she was trying to acknowledge a promise she did not fully believe.

That was all I could get from her. She didn't say anything else and I didn't make an effort to continue.

The rest of the journey passed in fragments. I wondered what kind of person I would be allowed to become in Hillsborough. Whether anyone would care enough to notice if I stayed exactly as I was. Whether being unknown would feel like freedom to me.

“You could make something of this,” my brother said suddenly, quieter now. “You don’t always have to stand behind me.”

I met his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. The kind that shows assurance. “I don’t mind standing behind you.”

“I know,” he said. “And that’s what worries me.”

I looked away unsure of what response to give.

Then the car slowed. Something in my chest tightened. Not out of fear, exactly. Maybe anticipation or resignation. I wasn’t sure anymore but I was certain that where one ended, the other began.

“This is your chance, Rowan,” my father said without looking up. “Don’t waste it.”

The gates of Hillsborough came into view, tall and imposing, wrought iron standing between what I had been and what I am about to be.

The car came to a smooth halt. And just like that, there was no more road left behind me. The only road left was the one that leads me into Hillsborough.