Amerie gazes at the crowd of people. It isn’t a huge group, maybe about fifty people.

She wishes she could be down there with them. Getting to voice her own feelings, but she can’t. Not while she is who she is.

“Princess Amerie, it would be of great importance to pay attention,” her tutor’s serious tone snaps her out of her daze. “Of course, Mr. Nevyle. I apologize for my distractedness.”

Nodding, he is already moving on with the boring lecture. It isn’t even that he is a boring teacher. The subject on royal trading and business is just tedious to her. She sneaks glances to her sides to see how well her siblings are faring.

They were, of course, seated by age. Her four oldest siblings were to her left and her younger brother to her right.

Cove, the heir to the throne, appears just as disinterested as Amerie. She keeps looking at the door, which may have to do with her personal guard, Thorne, standing there. They have this magnetic pull towards each other, always drawn close together.

Della is paying attention. At least more than Amerie is. She challenges Mr. Nevyle, depending on the topic, outspoken and passionate. Her focus is more on the interactions and who is involved.

Kent is being the annoyingly studious person he was. Jotting down notes, he listens intently to Mr. Nevyle and asks a question every so often. Always intent on whatever subject Mr. Nevyle drones on about.

Hale is twirling her pencil, sometimes stabbing the paper, making her paper look more like cheese than notes. If anyone could kill with just a writing instrument, it would be her. Every so often, she glances up and then goes back to her paper.

Spade, who she can usually rely on being distracted like her, is furiously writing down information. At first she wonders if he is writing a silly story or joke, but with his purposeful looks at their tutor, Amerie can tell that he is scribbling notes about the lecture like their older brother. He must find something interesting in business trading. Somehow.

“Can we talk about what’s going on out there?” Della asks, gesturing to the obvious group outside their walls. “That’s an actual issue that we could discuss and learn something from.”

Mr. Nevyle takes the deviation well and does not get annoyed. With six young royals, previous tutors could easily get irritated, but not him. It might have to do with his extensive experience. He was their mother’s tutor after all. “Well, Princess Adella, what do you believe their objective is? Their motivation?”

Della winces at her full title. Amerie shoots her an understanding look. She knows it reminds her of some rough times.

“They don’t like being treated differently. They feel like pain distributors should have protection,” Della gives her an equally understanding gaze, almost apologetic.

“With most of us,” Spade begins, but pauses when Mr. Nevyle clears his throat. He quickly amends, “With five out of the six royal children being healers, they feel as though they do not have representation. That the royal family glorifies healers, Miracles, which in turn pits people against Disasters.”

Her whole body heats up. Her palms feel like they are on fire. Clenching her fists, her nails dig into her hands. She knows her siblings are being as objective as they can. That they don’t believe that there is a difference between her and them. But she feels it.

“What is your perspective, Princess Amerie?” Mr. Nevyle questions, directing their attention to her.

Taking a deep breath, she knows he is looking for a clear thought. “They are hurt. Betrayed.”

Stopping in front of her desk, he taps the hard surface with his pointer. “Betrayed. A jarring word to use. Continue on that if you feel so inclined.”

His back is hunched but he is no less commanding.

“The royal family have not implemented any rules or laws that give them a say. As Spade and Della were beginning to say, they do not have the power to protect themselves with. It’s worse than not feeling heard. They are discriminated against. For something they cannot control. The royal family has that influence to make it easier for them, better for them, and nothing is done.”

When she finishes, she is a bit out of breath, a bit nervous to see Mr. Nevyle’s reaction.

“What if someone says that you are biased with you being a Disaster?”

Cove and Kent both begin to say something to protest him using that word, but she waves them off. Mr. Nevyle is trying to make a point, not insult her. She knows the difference.

“It is because of this bias that I should speak on this. Normal people cannot imagine the precautions Disasters have to take or the things they miss out on. I can because I am one of them,” her gaze drifts to the protesters outside, more connected to them now even though no distance has been closed.

“Excellent. Royals must be advocates for people they do not understand and for people that they do. One of them almost always becomes forgotten, but both are crucial.” A smirk, not quite a smile forms on his face. That is the best accolades that anyone will get from him, so she’ll take it.

Kent raises his hand and asks a question, but she doesn’t hear it. She’s focused on the crowd. She is one of them. But also adopted into royalty. A bridge between the two.

Those Disasters and other supporters are far braver than Amerie has ever been.

But she wants to be brave.

———

In case it wasn’t clear, Miracles are people that have healing abilities. Disasters are those that can distribute pain.