Chapter 4 Andrew Chevalier

• No sooner had day dawned than I was on my feet, heading straight for the shower. I had slept well, but I dreamed of Andrew. I couldn't understand how it was possible to dream about that man when I last saw him over eight years ago.
• As I let the warm water run down my body, with my eyes closed, I tried to forget about that reunion that would happen soon. I knew I was being an idiot, because Andrew must barely remember me. My grandfather made me a little hopeful when he said that maybe he had come in person to bring the invitation just to see me. I knew that was practically impossible. I couldn't understand what that man did to me... since I was just a child. Was it possible to like someone all along? I laughed to myself... I was being even more silly now. I was sure that when I looked at Andrew, I'd know it was all a child/teenager fixation. Or rather, when I was a kid, he was a teenager, so I thought he was just perfect. And now that I was an adult, I worshiped him for the handsome man he had become. In the end, she would find that he was just a handsome man, nothing more.
• As I dried my long red hair, I looked at myself in the mirror. I needed to do stronger makeup. Everyone said I didn't look eighteen, looking younger. But at that moment, I wanted to look a little older. I chose ripped jeans, which flattered my body, and a simple fitted blouse. I put on a jacket and on my feet a short boot. Car racing was a place I used to dress for comfort. I left my hair down and applied the mascara and eyeliner. A red lipstick, which I rarely wore, made me look more mature. But looking at my reflection in the mirror, it didn't look like me. Still, that was what I wanted to be that day: a woman to impress.
• As I grabbed my bag, my cell phone rang. It was Gael. I was unsure whether to answer or not. Then I realized there was no reason not to answer. After all, it was Gael, my boyfriend. Why not even answer?
• - Good morning, princess. - I heard his voice on the other side, excited .
• - Good morning, Gael.
• - I'm hoping to beat your father today.
• - Just hope. - I laughed. – You know this is impossible.
• - I hear the Chevalier heirs are going to run too. I think it's a little unfair that they come to compete here, in our kingdom.
• - It's a competition, Gael. Anyone can run.
• - Well, I confess that I don't worry about getting the second place. After all, all of Alpemburg knows that no one is better than Estevan D'Auvergne Bretonne.
• - That's because Alexia D'Auvergne Bretonne is not running. – I joked.
• - Alexia is third.
• - Like this? You know I'm better than you.
• - I don't agree with that.
• - I've already proved that I'm better, Gael. - I started to get angry.
• - No need to be mad, beautiful. It was just a joke.
• - Hmm, then I forgive you.
• - See you soon, my love. I want to hear your voice screaming my name.
• - Of course... - “Wait a seat”, I thought.
• My father and Gael running. Who would my fans be for? My father, always. Not even Andrew would win my cheer for him. The King of Alpemburg was the best and nobody took his cup away. But on second thought, Gael was right. It was a little unfair that the Chevaliers were racing in Alpemburg. But somehow they must have won some important competitions to be in a national. So somehow they must be good.
• My father again did not have breakfast with us. It was already at the site of the Alpemburg GP, the biggest car racing event in the kingdom. Normally I would be with him, wearing a comfortable outfit in stretch fabric, without any makeup and with a cap with the name of the most beautiful and perfect father in the whole world: Estevan DB Usually when he went to the podium, he called me to take the cup with him, or other type of award received. And the flowers were always given to me, even when my sisters were present. And when they weren't there, I was the only one to receive them. I only lost the flowers to my mother. He never left her without the flowers of victory. And every now and then Aimê would steal the flowers from his hands before they were given to me, because she was like this: “if I want it, it's mine”.
• Pauline, on the other hand, hated car racing. But every now and then she came, always very well-groomed and waving beautifully like a future queen. She thought it was one of the most boring events she needed to attend. But when I ran, on our route that my father took for us, she liked to watch. Pauline was always proud to see me do it. And it encouraged me to continue with my dream of winning the world in car competitions.
• As soon as we boarded the royal car that would take us, Pauline asked me in a low voice:
• - Ready?
• - Yea. - I said not sure.
• - You look very beautiful today, Alexia. said my mother. – I should wear red lipstick more often. It fits him very well.
• - Thank you mom.
• - She's like this because she's going to see Andrew. I bet. – Aime spoke mockingly.
• - You little devil. - I said already regretting having said that.
• - Aime, you are forbidden to talk about this with your cousin. said my mother.
• - Can I ask him to take a picture with me for me to post? She tried, making a prayer sign.
• - No. - Mom was short.
• She sighed heavily and crossed her arms, dissatisfied.
• It took us around fifteen minutes to get to the Alpemburg racetrack. My mother and Pauline as soon as they got down were surrounded by the local press and some admirers. Two security guards who came in the car behind helped them while Aimê and I had already accessed the place, without going through the common entrance, as we were royalty. This was one of the perks of being a princess: I rarely queued. Except at school, they always made sure to leave me last, certainly as a punishment for knowing I didn't go through this and as a way to bully me, although I didn't bother them at all. It was as if they were saying, “Hey, you don't have privileges here. Then it will be the last of everything.” So when I wasn't the first because I was the princess, I was the last because I was just a high school student, having the same rights and duties as everyone else. I was never even given a chance to show that I wasn't a bad person. And this has been the case since elementary school. I never complained to my parents about it. I knew they had much bigger problems than helping me fit into high school. And I knew it was temporary. Sooner or later I would finish my studies and never go back there, nor see those people again. What I found interesting is that they didn't like me, but they adored my father as king. Maybe I wasn't really friendly or sympathetic, even if I didn't open my mouth to argue. The truth is that boys and girls between fifteen and eighteen could be quite cruel when they wanted to. But I was strong. I survived for four years, always getting the best grades, not caring about being the last in line for a meal, for a sports class, for a shower, with my stuff in the bottom closet... the princess of Alpemburg. After all, I was there just to study, nothing more. Friends were a consequence and a boyfriend I already had: Gael, a mature and responsible man, twenty-four years old.
• I sat with Aime in the chairs reserved for us, in the first row. As soon as my father saw us, he came to us. I looked for the Chevaliers, but I didn't see them. My heart was already pounding so hard it was like I was about to see Andrew at any moment. Dad kissed each of us, outside the stands, inside the track and asked:
• - Where are your mother and Pauline?
• - They took the press. - I explained.
• - Dad, take a picture with me. – Asked Aimê, already positioned, smiling forcefully with her cell phone in her hand.
• Of course my dad took the picture with her, which he posted right away. My father hated the spotlight, but he did it because it was for her. He stayed away from the media until he was an adult. And just like with him, he tried to protect me because I didn't need to be as exposed as Pauline and didn't want the fame, like my little sister. His brother, the future king, who appeared in the media and my father, until then, had never even taken a photo that could expose him. They didn't meet his face until my uncle died and he became the new heir to the throne of Alpemburg. And he always said that one of the best things my grandparents did was protect him like that. He knew I was the only child he could afford the same kind of privilege he had. And that did him good.
• My mother and Pauline managed to arrive and sat next to us. Satini D'Auvergne Bretonne was just perfect, as always. And everyone in Alpemburg was very sympathetic to the queen and the king. Yet there was resistance to Pauline D'Auvergne Bretonne taking over when my father died or decided to pass the crown, along with all responsibility, to her.
• I was constantly trying to find my Chevalier, even with the large flow of people at the starting point. I laugh at myself. I didn't even know if he was like the newspapers and internet advertised.
• Around thirty minutes and the cars were already in the starting order. This was one of the moments when the pilot felt the most adrenaline, besides the arrival. I was anxious, already imagining how my father felt at that moment. I usually had butterflies in my stomach at this time. And he had already confessed to me that he felt the same way. I remember when he told me I laughed and said, "I didn't know men got butterflies too." He returned the following to me: "The first time I felt butterflies in my stomach was when I saw your mother, sitting on a sidewalk, with her eyes on mine." I found that so cute. And he added: “When you feel it, you will know that this is the person you will want to spend the rest of your days with.” So I hoped one day to meet the man who would make me feel the butterflies in my stomach, like I did at the start of the race. And for the record: I never felt butterflies in my stomach with Gael, although I liked him. And if it weren't for the fact that Andrew Chevalier was present at that race and in Alpemburg, even without “butterflies in my stomach” I would be satisfied with my lukewarm relationship with Gael.
• Finally the start was signaled. And the cars left. The roar of engines was one of the sounds I liked most in my life. That morning was pleasant. It was spring and the sun wasn't hot, it just toasted us with its presence.
• Alpemburg GP's were always big events and used to gather a lot of people, especially when King Estevan was racing, which was often. My dad demanded half-price tickets so that anyone who wanted could have access. He usually gave up the prize money received in order to compensate for “the loss” that the organizers might have.
• My dad took the lead and kept it that way pretty much the entire time, followed by none other than Andrew Chevalier, surprising everyone. I myself thought Andrew was much more of a cock-up pilot than a real pilot. But I realized he was skilled seeing the way he drove. On the last lap, of course, I wasn't sitting anymore… I was standing, almost inside the track, biting my nails because Andrew was practically leaning against my dad. I didn't even see the position of Gael or Henry. My heart was beating so hard and I was screaming non-stop:
• - Hold it, Dad! You can!
• But incredibly, my father lost his unbeaten record in Alpemburg to Andrew Chevalier, the boy from Noriah South, prince without a crown, son of Magnus, the darling of the whole world.
• I stood there in disbelief, watching the cars slow down. Surely my father would be devastated, even though he knew how to lose. But losing in Alpemburg would be disappointing for him.
• - Will Dad be upset? – Aime asked me sadly.
• - I think he'll get over it. I put my arm around her shoulders.
• - Shall we go to the podium? I want your flowers.
• I laughed:
• - Okay, come on, you steal my flowers.
• - Mom, shall we go to the podium? She took my mother's hands.
• - Of course... Although your father's mood will be terrible. - she said.
• So we followed, me, my mother and my sisters to the podium. I wasn't so curious about Andrew anymore... Comforting my father was my priority at that moment.
• Until I saw him... Ah, my heart was between stopping and never beating again, leading me to death; or hit so hard that I had a heart attack. Because Andrew Chevalier wasn't what I had expected or imagined... He was just so much better than in my dreams. He was with my dad and Henry, who I believe took third place because he was on the podium as well. Henry had changed little of what I remembered of him. He still looked like the boy of eight years ago, mocking, amused, dark hair not too short, in a kind of casual cut. Her skin was white and her eyes were pale, mistaking honey and green. He smiled in our direction, probably recognizing us from my mother.
• Then my eyes met Andrew's. And I felt the butterflies in my stomach that my dad said he only felt with the love of his life. And no… I couldn't feel it with him. The blood seemed to boil inside me and my legs were shaking fiercely, almost preventing me from walking. So I stopped, before I melted like ice cream in the sun, not reaching my destination. I could, or rather “I should” take my eyes off his… But I couldn't. It was like I was completely hypnotized.
• Pauline took me by the arm, supporting me on her body and said in my ear:
• - Breathe and wipe your mouth because your drool is running. – she started to laugh.
• - I will die. - I said panting and trying to take a deep breath.
• - You'd better compose yourself before being officially introduced to him.
• - I'll try... - I focused my gaze on the floor.
• The awards were announced and Andrew received the flower necklace, which was always my father's and consequently mine.
• I looked at my dad, who didn't look too sad. On the contrary, he smiled and chatted with the Chevaliers playfully. As soon as the press got out of the way, they managed to get down. So Andrew and Henry accompanied my father to us.
• As he got closer, my stomach started to ache more and more and my shaking returned. Why did I have to be like this, such an idiot?
• - Girls, these are your cousins, Andrew and Henry.
• “ Cousins”… Of course my father had to use that word to cut any mood that might exist. Andrew had his hair cut short, but not too short. They were slightly goose bumps, making him even more perfect. He had light hair, but not too blond. The eyes were hazel, much like my father's. He was tall... taller than me. He was still thin, but I imagined muscle under that jumpsuit. And the beard was grown, maybe three days without shaving.
• We started to greet each other politely. When he came to me, my father said:
• - This is Alexia. Daughter Andrew, her cousin. I don't know if you still remember him.
• Andrew looked deep into my eyes, took my hand and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek, saying quietly in my ear:
• - Hi, wife.