My number of companions whittles down further when we arrive at the airport. Julie and Steve are traveling separately on a commercial flight later in the day. I board a private plane with Thomas and Philip to London, and from there we embark on a commercial flight to New York, and finally one from New York to Michigan.

Philip stays quiet throughout most of the long trip, but Thomas and I make small talk during the multiple flights. I learn both his father and grandfather were members of the Royal Guard and that his wife is expecting a baby at the end of the year. That last revelation is a reminder of the upheaval I’ve caused over the last few weeks. People are uprooting their lives and making major sacrifices so that I can have this opportunity. The monarchy is a massive force, and it requires total dedication. This is a temporary arrangement, a stop on the way to stepping up and fulfilling my duty. A selfish act before dedicating the rest of my life to service. A pursuit of new experiences I hope will make me better prepared to take on big responsibilities. Make me a better ruler.

Once we land in Michigan, there is a car waiting to transport the three of us to Lincoln. Most of the drive is along a tree-lined interstate. We eventually exit the highway and drive through a small downtown area before we arrive at the periphery of the campus.

A massive stone sign carved with LINCOLN UNIVERSITY marks the entrance. We enter the campus and drive past a few buildings before we stop. I step out of the car in front of a brick, ivy-covered building with a large sign reading Kennedy Hall displayed above the front doors.

Thomas and Philip unload all of my luggage from the trunk, as I stand and take in my new surroundings. It’s almost nine in the evening now, and my body sags with exhaustion as we walk toward the entrance to the dorm.

I check in and receive my student identification card, along with a folder of welcome materials. One of the student volunteers leads me down a long hallway, with Thomas and Philip close behind. She departs after bringing us to the last of the nondescript wooden doors, and I swipe my new keycard.

The door swings open to reveal a room that’s roughly the same size as my walk-in closet back home.

The two sides of the room are mirror images of each other, separated by a paned window that sits in the very center of the wall we’re facing. A long shelf just below it butts against the edges of each of the twin beds pushed against the walls. A desk and dresser on each side of the room complete the reflection.

One half of the room is already partially decorated. A couple of posters hang on the wall, and the bed is neatly made with a navy comforter. Two zipped suitcases lean against the wooden frame of the bed, atop a plush white rug.