21. Jensen

CHAPTER 21

JENSEN

I wake with a start, my book falling to the floor with a thud. I stare down at it and curse, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. I’ve lost my page now. And I’ve probably ruined the spine. Ugh.

It was pretty interesting, though — it was all about the fauna of the Arctic, written by a professor who wants to protect the world from the stupidity of humanity. And it turns out we really are very stupid.

This is a guy who’s spent his entire life researching ways that we can help save the animals and the ice sheets that are melting more and more every year. It’s alarming, actually, to see all the statistics laid out like this.

The more I read, the more I want to do something to help. And I have been reading a lot, lately, trying to absorb as much knowledge as quickly as I can.

Because as a prince, I get lucky. Being a prince means I have a platform, which means people will listen to me even if they shouldn’t. Up until now, my position has basically been to entertain people across the world with my dumb exploits, but finally, I’ve found my purpose.

I’ve realized what I’m supposed to be doing, who I am supposed to be. I’ve seen a way to put my voice to a good use — and I’m sure as hell going to do it.

What I haven’t realized yet is how to stop my stupid brain from fixating on stuff. I can more or less ignore it in the day, but every night I have dreams that are full of Billie and the island. Every time I close my eyes, she’s there — I see her smile, the curve of her body, the way she rolled her eyes at me when I did something dumb.

Which was all the time.

Okay, so maybe I am still thinking about her way too much. But what else am I meant to do?

It would have been great if I’d managed to get a better sleep, but it’s going to have to be what it is for today, because I have places to be. All my sleep has been pretty strange and disturbed lately, so this isn’t exactly unusual.

Having to get up before nine a.m. is, though.

I’m going to a talk today, by a guy who wrote a book about the creatures of Sólveigr, and how they relate to animals in the rest of Europe. The book was really fascinating, and I reached out to him — Dr. Schroder — to ask if I could come to his talk and speak to him.

Happily for me, he said yes.

Unhappily, I have to leave the house in the next fifteen minutes or I’m going to be late.

Anders drives me to Filgenn, our capital city, where the talk is happening. It’s part of a bigger scientific conference that’s going on right now, but Dr. Schroder is part of the more public-facing side, so hopefully I’ll be able to understand what he’s talking about.

I arrive at the lecture hall ten minutes early, and I pull my hood up over my head in an effort not to be recognized. Everyone around me is at least smart-casual, wearing dress pants and button-up shirts. Some of them are even wearing ties, albeit novelty ones with polar bears or test tubes. I’d always thought of scientists as uptight, but the more I dive into their world, the more I’m realizing how fun they can be.

I slide into the back row and sit in the shadows, alone. The last thing I want is to take the spotlight away from the people who deserve it.

When Dr. Schroder walks out onto the stage, he smiles at the crowd and nods nervously before pointing his little clicker at the screen, opening the first slide of his presentation as we all applaud warmly.

“Hello, everyone,” he says, speaking Sólveigan with a faint German accent. This guy knows something like four languages. It’s so impressive. He’s going to give the presentation in English, though, because there are people from all over the world here to see him.

He’s a tall man and he hunches slightly when he stands up. He’s wearing a sweater vest and seems to have a permanent squint, and he fiddles with the clicker in his hand. Looking at him, you would think he would be bad at public speaking.

You’d think that he would be nervous and shy and give a terrible presentation.

But I’m glad to be proved wrong. The second Dr. Schroder starts talking about his research, his whole demeanor changes. He comes alive. Throughout the entire hour, his voice is captivating, his arguments compelling and wonderfully articulated.

If this guy narrated audiobooks, they would send me straight to sleep — and I mean that as a compliment. His voice is soothing and gentle, and makes you want to trust him.

I take in the photos that flash up on the screen. Some of them are Dr. Schroder’s own work, a little blurry, and it makes me think about Billie, and how amazing her photos are.

Maybe I should give him her name, see if he wants to collaborate with her.

After the talk, I muscle my way to the front of the crowd. People are surprised to see me, but I let Dr. Schroder have the spotlight when he needed it. Now I’m just going to make it brighter.

“Dr. Schroder,” I call, trying to get his attention. He turns to me, blinks in surprise, then comes over.

“Can it really be the famous Prince Jensen?”

I grin and take his hand when he offers it, shaking it firmly. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I had no idea that our landscape is under threat so badly, and I want to try and help do something about that. I’d love to learn more. If I can do anything at all, I want to.”

He chuckles kindly. “It is good of you to offer. Between you and me, it is always difficult to get funding for this kind of research.”

“I don’t understand why. This is so important.”

“Yes, it is. I must say, I never realized you were so passionate about this work.”

“I’ve recently had a change of heart about… well, everything. Have you ever heard of Isla Mostaza?”

He nods slowly, a knowing smile growing on his face. “Ah, yes. I did see you had a recent excursion there, yes?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to fiddle with the hem of my hoodie. I want to present a professional image to him. Well, as much as I can.

Ugh, I should have worn a suit.

“I am sure you saw much good wildlife there, hmm?”

I’m not sure if he’s making a joke or not, so I just smile warmly. “Yes. I think I discovered a new passion.”

“Well, we are pleased to have a figure like you supporting our work. Here, take my card.” He hands it to me, and I pocket it carefully, like it’s something precious. “You must contact me so we can arrange to meet. Perhaps you could tour with us sometime.”

“Really?” I hear myself lighting up like a child at Christmas, and he chuckles again, taking my hand for another handshake.

“Yes, of course. I would be delighted.”

We talk for a little longer, but then other people want him, and I feel bad for taking up his time. I thank him again for entertaining the idea of me getting involved with his work, then turn to leave the convention hall, feeling like I’m floating.

If only Billie could be here to see.

I’m so wrapped up in the excitement of the day that it’s only when I scroll through my socials on the way home that I realize I was spotted by the press, and people are speculating about the new chapter in my life.

“Look, Anders!” I say, waving the phone at him knowing full well he won’t look while he’s driving. “People are writing about me, and it’s not about my love life. Look, me and science mentioned in the same article.”

“Congratulations, sir,” he says, and though his tone may sound cool, I know he means it.

And I mean this. For the first time in a long time, I’m excited about the future.

I can’t wait to see what’s to come.