FREYA

The royal convoy picks me up from the airport. The feeling of nostalgia envelopes me as we drive through the once-familiar roads of Pretoria.

As usual, everyone stares at the cars, waving and shouting. Once we are clear of the open road, we take a shortcut I have never seen before.

"Where is this?" I asked the driver. He turns to me with a sharp, apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I forgot you have not been here in a while. The king closed all the obvious routes leading to the Palace and instructed all the royal cars to follow this shortcut to avoid an ambush."

"Ambush? What ambush?" My eyes widened.

He swallows a lump as if he has just let me in on some information he shouldn't have.

"I think His Majesty should explain to you." He speeds up.

As soon as we get to the Palace, I recognize that a lot of things have changed.

"Did the walls get taller?" I ask no one in particular. The gates have increased in height, and even the pillars look thicker.

What had happened over the last five years?

The maids open the Palace doors for me as I walk in, and the foyer has been polished and confetti thrown around to give me a befitting welcome.

Different voices chorus my name as the maids and guards line up to welcome me.

"Welcome, Princess!"

"Your highness."

"It's a pleasure to have you back home again, your highness."

They bow and curtsy. Bouquets are handed to me, along with boxes of chocolates and a literal "Welcome back to Pretoria" t-shirt.

Yet, amidst the many greetings and celebrations, I can't seem to spot my grandfather anywhere.

"Where is my grandfather?" I ask the guard who walks directly behind me.

"He is currently in a meeting, but he intends to join you as soon as you are well rested," he replies.

"Hmm," I sigh my response and keep walking.

As soon as we get to my room door, my heart becomes heavy, there is nostalgia again. These walls that had held me in for so long.

Panic rises to my throat, and I wonder if I made the right decision coming back here.

Just as I am about to suffocate, the door opens from within, and there is my smiling, now older nanny, Veronica.

"Nanny Vera!" I rushed into her arms, and she gave me a huge squeeze.

"Oh, Princess!" She laughs, staggering backwards a bit from the force of my weight on her.

"You are so much bigger now!" She exclaims.

I released her and took a step back, slightly embarrassed that for a second I forgot how much I had grown.

"I'm sorry, Nanny Vera." I smiled, feeling the knots in my throat lessen a bit. As she leads me into my bedroom, I realize that everything has been changed and replaced by mature wallpaper, and all my strawberry papers have been taken down.

Now, it is a cream and peach-colored wallpaper, designed with the royal tulip. I sigh in relief as a breath of fresh air flows in from the window.

Every clustered toy has been removed, and a balcony has even been built to make the room look different.

"Oh, nanny Vera!" I exclaimed, twirling around the room. There is so much space now as all my large boxes of clothes have been taken out.

"This is gorgeous!" I squeal excitedly.

"I am glad you like it, your highness. I enjoyed taking out your old stuff. As you know, this is the third best room in the Palace after your grandfather's room and..." She pauses. I know what she is about to say, and my heart squeezes.

"I know," I reply sadly. On the bedside stool is a framed photograph of my parents. The frame is so beautiful, I can't help but trail my finger around it as the hazy memory of the day the photo was taken comes flooding in.

It was our first summer at our new lake house. My parents had always been so busy with Palace matters that they never had time for me.

That was our first vacation together. I had not given any thought to it, but I remember my parents acting strange -- as though that was going to be the last time we spent together.

And it was.

I know my mum had sensed it, but she never spoke about it. And growing up, our magic kept the two of us in touch.

After their deaths, I began contacting her spirit magically. The last time I contacted her was when I turned sixteen, and she warned me not to reach out to her again, that it was somehow dangerous for both of us.

I got so mad at her that I refused to ever practice magic again. That connection was all I had left of them, and even in death, she had turned me away, too busy to tell me what was really at stake.

I broke every connection I had with magic -- it was best not to know. After all, what you don't know can't kill you, or so I thought.

Nanny Vera senses my sadness, but does not say anything. She was the one person who did not remind me of my loss.

She always distracted my thoughts so that I failed to swim into the arms of depression.

"Lunch will be ready in exactly one hour. For now, there are snacks and drinks available to keep your appetite satiated," She says, smiling at me.

Food. She knows me so well. I smiled at her and nodded.

About twenty minutes later, I had showered and dressed up. A platter of cupcakes and a jug of strawberry juice are laid out at the center of my room.

As I lounge against the center sofa, munching on the cupcake, a knock sounds, and then the door opens.

Grandfather walks in with hardly a smile on his face.

"Grandfather." I rise and curtsy.

He nods and motions for me to sit down.

"It is good to see you again after so many years, my dear. My, but you have indeed grown." He mutters, thick bearded, Pretorian accent.

I want to laugh, but I hold it back.

"Thank you, grandfather." I smile, but he doesn't smile back.

Instead, his expression falters, a frown rises to his forehead -- and I know that something is wrong. But what could it be again?

He clears his throat to speak.