ix. Manners

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♡ Odette's POV ♡

I hadn't seen or spoken to Zayn since the incident in the drawing room, which was several days ago. A part of me was still mildly disappointed in myself, especially when I would pass the art room and see the blank easel on the stand, still awaiting its master to start his next masterpiece.

I wasn't too sure if his next masterpiece was going to be me anymore.

But I was getting off topic, there were bigger things to worry about now. Like the fact that Delia's coronation was getting close, and apparently I was unworthy of being at the ceremony until I learned proper royal manners. I thought that was rubbish, I had been a perfectly well-mannered young lady my whole life.

So here I was, in my manners lessons with quite possibly the most stuck up lady I had ever met in my whole life.

Her name was Miss Rita, and she probably had the biggest ego out of the entire female population in the empire.

I wasn't kidding.

"ODETTE! You're slouching! No royal ever slouches, you look like an old hag!" Miss Rita would screech at me as I sat in what would be my chair for the ceremony. Her voice was high-pitched and annoying, and it was really starting to hurt my head.

Miss Rita was a skinny older woman who looked to be barely tipping the one-hundred tick on the scale. She was practically a skeleton, with an obvious boob job, that is. Her hair was dyed a deep red color to accentuate her bright green eyes. She must have been pretty when she was younger, but all the cosmetics on her make her look just terrible.

I froze in my chair. I sounded like a hypocrite, especially after how Zayn had reacted in the drawing room.

So I sat up taller, my back beginning to ache from the hours of manner lessons. I kept my hands relaxed and folded in my lap, my chin raised high as a sign of superiority. I thought I looked foolish, but I must have looked like a true royal because Miss Rita praised me greatly.

Zayn's sisters were present at my lessons as well, probably to either poke fun at me or to in fact get a refresher on their manners. I assumed the former, they were princesses after all. They had probably learned this by the time they could walk.

I had learned quite a lot from Miss Rita, often with books on my head to keep my balance. I didn't even know princesses did that in the real world, I had always thought it was something fictional, made up for fun.

Needless to say, those books fell quite a lot. My body was in the huge ballroom of the Malik Manor, but my mind was elsewhere, in a certain prince's room, laughing and having a good time. My mood just couldn't be lifted, no matter what I did.

We practiced for hours, and just as I felt my legs were about to give out from my high heels, my mood worsened.

"Alright, let's get the boys and Lady Malik in here to practice the official lineup for the coronation." Miss Rita clapped her hands together in excitement, her voice high-pitched and squeaky. My heart skipped a beat, Zayn was coming. Whether this was to be a good thing or something that I would dread, I didn't know. I hoped for the first one, but with my recent luck, who knew.

Us girls waited for a few minutes while several servants left to fetch Zayn's mother and father, as well as the prince himself.

We ended up waiting for fifteen minutes before the servants came back, but only with Lady Malik and her husband. No Zayn.

"Where is the prince?" Miss Rita huffed in annoyance, an older servant stepping forward, making a small bow before speaking.

"His Highness the prince claims to be suffering from a serious migraine, he said he isn't to be disturbed."

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