I walk a few steps into the room and spot a door off to the right. I push it open, revealing a small but clean bathroom containing a toilet, sink, and shower stall.

Thomas and Philip are already in motion when I turn back toward the room. Philip is making the bed with clean linens we brought while Thomas stacks notebooks, binders, and pens on my desk. They move efficiently, and are finished with unpacking everything I brought except my wardrobe within minutes.

“Would you like us to unpack your clothes, Princess?” Thomas asks.

“No, it’s all right,” I’m quick to reply. “Go get some rest. You must both be exhausted.”

Thomas slides a sleek phone out of his pocket. He hands it over. “This is your new phone.”.

I left my old one at the palace, since it wouldn’t receive any service outside the country.

“It has an American number, and is already programmed with the numbers for the palace as well as the numbers to reach Philip, Steve, Julie, and me. There’s a secure app installed that requires facial identification to open. That’s how you should contact us for regular check-ins. Only call the numbers listed for us if it’s an emergency or it’s a conversation that can be had on an open line. Understand?”

I nod.

“All right. Good night, Princess.”

“Good night.”

Thomas and Philip leave the tiny dorm room. I stand still, suddenly too overcome to move. I’m more alone in this moment than I have ever been in my entire life. Not only am I thousands of miles away from my family, but also from the palace and the country I’ve called home for the past eighteen years. The feeling is so foreign, I can hardly begin to process it.

Bit by bit, exhaustion begins to seep back in. The long day of travel and sleepless night overwhelm the paralyzing novelty of unfamiliar isolation.

I take a quick shower, dress in my usual silk pajamas, and finish unpacking. It takes some creative maneuvering, but I finally fit all the shoes and clothes I brought into the small dresser and closet.

I’m storing my empty suitcases under the bed when the door swings open. A girl with shoulder length hair and brown eyes enters the room. She spots me crouching down by the edge of my bed and smiles tentatively.

“You must be Vivienne. I’m Katie—Katie Masterson.”

I shove the last bag under the bed and stand. “Yes, I’m Vivienne Rhodes,” I reply formally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re unpacked already?” Katie asks, looking at my stuffed closet. “I’m impressed. I just dumped everything earlier. Did you bring any decorations?” She eyes my bare walls and empty shelves.

“No, there was limited space on the plane, and I prioritized my clothes,” I tell her.

She smiles at that. “We can stop by the campus store tomorrow, if you’d like,” Katie offers. “They have a bunch of stuff for decorating.”

“I’d like that,” I reply, just before a large yawn escapes me. “Sorry, it’s been a long day of travel.”