She did it!
She was at the helm of the fastest boat in the race, except she was no longer winning the race. All that fussing around had allowed three, no, four ships to sail ahead of the goblin boat, including Harry’s, which was now in the lead.
Uma hurried to the helm, tore free the ropes holding the wheel in place, and jammed the throttle into gear.
The journey to Stone City, a small village on the eastern border of the Great Wall, was past the vast forests of Eden and the Lone Keep, so Ben decided the fastest way to get there was on the royal jet. “We leave for the airport in five,” he told Lonnie, who was already more cheerful now that she’d secured Ben’s commitment to fixing the issue plaguing the Imperial Palace.
Ben ran to change out of his formal clothing for travel gear, trading his sash and epaulets for a royal hoodie and jeans. He wished he’d had more time with Mal, but such was the life of a king—he was constantly needed in so many places at once. He envied his parents for the length of time they’d had for courtship. Sure, Beast was hiding in exile and Belle was basically imprisoned, but they’d had all the time in the world to fall in love, right?
He would make it up to Mal, he decided, by making his Cotillion proposal extra-special for sure. He just needed a little help. But that’s what friends are for, he thought, as he texted Jane the details of his idea.
Lumiere, who had followed Ben out of the library reception and helped get him ready for the trip, doted anxiously on the young king. “But, Sire, are you certain this is absolutely necessary?” he asked. “Why not send an envoy? Or at least bring me along.”
“Not necessary,” said Ben, zipping up his hoodie as they made their way out of the royal residence to the front, where the limousine was waiting. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to travel heavy, and with the jet, I’ll be back before dinner, if not earlier.” Lumiere would be too concerned with protocol, and settling a border dispute was bound to get hairy. But Ben would be lying if he didn’t admit to a small case of nerves.
Lonnie was already out front. “Thanks for doing this, Ben,” she said.
“At least summon the cavalry?” Lumiere said worriedly. “They can travel on the royal speed train.”
Ben shook his head, ushering Lonnie inside the car first. “If we arrive with a show of force, the villagers might not believe we’re acting in their best interests. I’d like to resolve this as peacefully as I can, and if they see it’s just me and Lonnie, they’ll know I’m there to listen and not force them to do anything they don’t want to do.”
Lumiere looked as if he wanted to keep protesting, but he decided against it. His shoulders slumped, as if lights had been extinguished on a candelabra. “As you wish, Sire.”
“Don’t worry, Lonnie’s with me,” said Ben with a smile. “She’ll keep me safe.”
Lonnie motioned to the sword strapped on her back. “Nothing will happen.”
Chip rushed out with a bag of snacks. “In case you get hungry, Sire,” he said. “Mom packed you some sandwiches.”
Ben thanked them both, and the driver bowed and closed Ben’s door.
“The village elder is meeting us first, then you have a meeting with the representative from Agrabah,” Lonnie told him.
Ben nodded to the driver, and the limousine left campus. A few students looked on, confused as to why the king was leaving in the middle of the school day.
The royal jet zoomed above Auradon City, flying over Charmington and Faraway Cove. “What gorgeous countryside,” said Lonnie, admiring the rolling green fields dotted with golden haystacks and flocks of sheep that looked like white specks. “Do you ever think about how lucky we are to be in Auradon?”
“All the time,” Ben said.
They were making good time but had to refuel, so they stopped in Notre-Dame before lunch, almost halfway to their destination. While the pilots took care of the plane, Ben and Lonnie walked over to a little square and stopped at a charming place for hot chocolates to drink with their sandwiches.
The café owners were beside themselves to discover they were waiting on royalty, and insisted the king take the best table in the house, one with a view of the church. “Please, sit, and enjoy the ringing of the bells,” the waiter urged.
Ben thanked them profusely and remarked that Quasimodo’s bell-ringing was indeed the best in the land. When the noonday chimes ended, they resumed their conversation.
“My family really appreciates you doing this,” said Lonnie. “My mom says she wishes she could have sent us her cricket for good luck.”
“Tell her thanks,” said Ben, taking a sip from his cup. “I’ve asked a bunch of councillors to meet us on their side of the Great Wall. The Grand Vizier agreed to meet with me. It’s important that they feel their voices are heard as well, since you are traveling with me.”
“Good idea,” said Lonnie. “I hope they listen to you. It would be a shame if things escalated.”
“I hope so too, but it’s more important that I listen to them,” said Ben, thinking of the various issues he’d worked on since taking the throne. Most notably, he had handled the sidekicks’ complaints and approved the cost of Camelot reparations after an out-of-control Madame Mim had plagued them earlier in the month.
“Is that what being king is all about?” asked Lonnie. “Listening?”
“Pretty much. How about you?” he asked. “Everything going okay?” He’d known Lonnie since they were kids, and they were almost like siblings. He remembered when Lonnie got her first sword at the age of five, and how she’d tried to stab Chip when he pulled her pigtails. Lonnie was there when Ben made his first balcony appearance; instead of waving to the crowd, he’d hidden his face in his mother’s shoulder. She’d teased him about it mercilessly.
“Yeah,” she said with a long sigh and fiddled with the sword at her waist.
“That doesn’t sound like everything’s okay,” he said, concerned.
“You know how you wish you could change things, but there’s nothing you can do about it?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” said Ben. “But there’s always something you can do about it.”
Lonnie looked longingly at her sword once more. “Maybe.”
“What’s this all about?” he asked.
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you can’t do something just because of who you are?” asked Lonnie, as the waiter came by to offer them heaping platters of croissants and baskets of delicate pastries.
Ben considered it as he picked up a lemon tart and took a bite, smiling his thanks to the waiter. “Lots of times, actually.”
“Really?” Lonnie didn’t sound like she believed him.