“I know that usually Johan and I handle the press, but today we are going to let Lukas speak,” Linus said to the gathered journalists, who began to clamor at that.

Johan’s body vibrated with nerves. He’d tried to shield Lukas for so long, and watching them step in front of a crowd of reporters to discuss something that would surely make international news and create a whirlwind of unnecessary speculation, was like having to sit still as fire ants marched over his body. He wanted to make a naughty joke. He wanted to stand up and rip off his shirt and sing an aria.

He sat still, except for the smile he directed at his stepfather. Linus had said Laetitia would be proud, but that meant he was proud, too, didn’t it? Johan had been thinking a lot about how his trying to prevent his own hurt could hurt others. He placed a hand on Linus’s shoulder and squeezed, and got a pleased smile from Linus in return.

Linus leaned in toward Johan’s ear. “You called me Papp earlier.”

“Don’t get a big head,” Johan whispered back. “It’s just a word for a man who raises you and who you happen to love.”

Linus made a gruff noise, still trying his damndest to maintain the von Braustein stiff upper lip.

“Hallo,” Lukas said quietly into the microphone. Lukas glanced at Johan, who gave his sibling a firm nod and threw in a wink to remind them that they had nothing to fear. Lukas turned back to the crowd. “It’s been noted that my behavior has been a bit strange lately. And this is true. I was acting out because . . . I’d decided that I didn’t want to grow up to be a king. I didn’t want to be a prince either. I’ve never been one, really.”

The journalists buzzed and camera flashes went off and Johan saw the instant Lukas’s expression shifted to something slightly vulnerable and slightly cunning. They were their own person, and would deal with the press as they wished, but they hadn’t thrown out everything Johan had taught them.

“Let me explain this. First, I’m nonbinary. Our language and our culture are very much focused on masculine and feminine, but I’m neither. I prefer that the pronouns they/them be used when talking about me in any future publications, starting with the reporting on this press conference,” Lukas said firmly. “This shouldn’t be very difficult for a group of intelligent journalists like yourselves. It should be even easier when writing about royalty because we already have the royal we. The royal they isn’t very different, is it?”

Lukas looked out at the crowd, smiling a bit when most of the reporters shook their heads. “If you happen to slip up, I won’t banish you or even get angry. I just ask that you try to remember for next time. I will not be explaining this aspect further because all of you possess access to the internet, which is free in our great nation, and you can look it up.”

There were murmurs among the reporters, but Johan shot warning glares at anyone who seemed likely to shout something out.

“As you can imagine, this has been a confusing time for me. Not figuring out my identity—I’ve known that for some time. But figuring out how to fulfill my royal duties and stay true to myself.” They paused. “We are a kingdom with a long and storied history, a kingdom built on solid traditions, and I wondered if being myself would somehow disappoint people. But no. I’m still me. I’m still the same person who was born to serve and protect my people. And I hope everyone else feels the same.”

Johan tried not to look like he was about to fall out of his seat from a mixture of pride and anxiety. He looked into the audience to find Krebs wiping away a tear before readjusting his camera to snap a photo.

“As I stated, my preferred pronouns are they and them. In addition to that I will no longer be referred to as Prince Lukas.”

They looked at Johan, who held up a large photo of Lukas making a thumbs-down sign with one hand and frowning. The word PRINCE was written in large letters, meme-style, and crossed out with a thick red line.

“I will heretofore, if the monarchy exists after the referendum, be referred to as Prinxe Lukas.”

Johan held up an image of Lukas giving a thumbs-up and grinning, with PRINXE in large letters along the bottom.

“King will likewise be Xing, though I hopefully have some time before I have to worry about that one. Now, if there are any questions that aren’t questions about pronoun usage or how to replace a c or a k with an x, I’ll be happy to answer them.”

The reporter from the Looking Glass Daily raised his hand. Lukas called on him.

“How does your brother feel about this?”

Johan rolled his eyes and leaned forward toward his mic. “My opinion is irrelevant, but since you asked, I feel glad that Lukas trusts the people of our kingdom to respect their announcement. I love them as much as it’s possible to love anyone, and I couldn’t be any prouder of them.”

Lukas’s eyes softened and their cheeks went rosy. Between the von Braustein stiff upper lip and Johan’s obsessive desire to keep his emotions to himself, love had been shown more through actions than words in the castle. But sometimes people needed to hear how important they were, and maybe that was something else that could change moving forward.

Nya had told him she loved him, and it had been like being freed from a tower. Johan didn’t think he could change entirely, but he could stop hoarding his most precious emotions.

The rest of the press conference was Lukas ignoring people who hadn’t respected their directive about questioning, and answering those who asked about their vision for the future of Liechtienbourg.