The Royal Scandal (editing)

Chapter 1 (edited)

But first, two things: 

1. gentle reminder: This book was written when I was young and fanciful. Thus, many grevious errors of grammar, loop holes and spelling was commited. I am in the middle of remedying those mistakes. So, tread with care. You have been warned. 

2. The setting for this story is located in a completely imaginary, made up country called Claymore. Probably located in Mediterranean Europe. 

So, please comment, vote and enjoy...

***

 As I stood there transfixed at the flashing light bulbs of the cameras, I took a quick glance at the tall, handsome and well-dressed stranger standing next to me.

How very curious it was, watching this stranger smiling broadly and waving his hand elegantly to the crowd of photographers and the sea of people that was screaming for him. He took a pause for a second and beckoned me to stand closer to him.

And of course, I found myself unable to move - spellbound - like a deer caught in the headlights. And a very confused deer I was too.

For a second I saw the usual annoyance flicker in his eyes, blemishing his otherwise very pleasant façade. That was when I finally found some reassurance. The stranger was no stranger at all. That one flicker of irritation I saw guaranteed that the stranger was my husband.

Complying with his silent order, I moved closer to stand next to him. And when I was close enough, he put his arm around me, snaking my waist as his hold tightened. The flashbulbs were upon us still, some photographers even shouted demands for more intimate pictures of us - the newlyweds.

And to my astonishment, I heard Aiden chuckle pleasantly. It sounded weird - weirder than the charming smiles he'd been wearing all night.

Then slowly he descended as his eyes bored into mine, his lips brushing my cheek for a friction of a second before his lips lingered at my ear. He whispered. "I understand that acting is surely out of your league since you seem not to possess even an ounce of brain cell - but if it's not too much to ask, could you please..."

"What?"

"Smile for the cameras, damn it."

A smiling Aiden turned his head to face the press before he took the liberty of kissing the top of my head. He chuckled again, his hold around my waist tighter than before. Slowly, I forced my lips to turn up at the sides.

The flashbulbs went wild.

"Over here princess, over here!"

I could hardly believe that they were actually calling me. What they were calling me.

"Princess Fay! Princess, over here, please!"

And the night flew by just like that; I could hardly keep track of everything anymore. This new life that I was leading was fast-paced and at times challenging and confusing. At a quarter to midnight we were finally able to leave the function.

If Aiden was all smiles before, chatting away and pleasant, now in the stretch limo the silence was palpable. He was resting his head on the seat, clearly exhausted. I was the same - who would have thought that greeting honored guests, sipping champagne and making small talk all night would be so tiring?

But I couldn't keep my eyes closed for long for I would go searching for Aiden. I couldn’t stop myself. He looked almost human. And in a state of serene sleep he looked even more so - he was relaxed. There was no sarcastic sneer coloring his lips.

"What are you looking at?" he shot suddenly, his lids opening slowly. Aiden rubbed them with his knuckles before looking at me again.

"Nothing." I said, quickly looking at anywhere but him.

"Can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?" he went on. "You’ve been looking at me all night when you think I'm not looking." He was on a roll, adding to my humiliation.

Jerk!

"I did not!" I protested as my gut shifted. How did he notice that I had been looking at him? And here I thought that Prince Aiden was so full of himself that he would never notice anything else but him.

He thought that the world revolved around him and that everything was about him – well, at least he thought so. And unfortunately he was right on every account. He was the centre of the universe. I was married to the Crown Prince of Claymore and he was the biggest jerk on the planet.

And how did I get myself in this mess, you ask?

THREE MONTHS AGO,

It was a beautiful Monday morning and I was on my way to school. The weather was perfect - not too sunny and not too cold – and the sky was a bright blue with drifts of clouds breaking the sun’s glare. I was riding my old bike as I always did but today I was considerably slower in my pedals; I was quite anxious.

It was already the middle of the semester but I was enrolling at a new school. Out of pure luck I was offered a place in the prestigious Royale School of Arts in the city. Being an art student and going to the Royale was a dream come true. My mom was positively over the moon but for some reason, I didn’t feel so good.

Like the feeling you had when something bad was impending? Yeah, that kind of feeling. Your gut just cringed whenever you thought about it. Not to mention the amount of tuition that was required every semester. But lucky for me, I was offered to be one of the scholarship students. In fact, I was the only scholarship student. So that was great.

It was unheard of for a normal kid from a middle class family to enroll in the Royale Arts, but there I was on my bike, pedaling away.

Twenty minutes and eleven kilometers later, I was standing in front of the Royale Arts. Get this, the gateway leading to the school was humongous! Its arc stood nearly fifty foot tall, made up of an old style wrought iron flanked by two ivory styled towers. It was like a gateway that led to a castle or something.

Dragging my bike with me, I almost tiptoed through the gate. The guard that stood next to the gate beckoned me as soon I stepped through. He was tall with an annoyed look on his face.

"New student here?" he asked. It was curious; when he spoke his voice wasn't hard at all. It was perfectly polite. He even nodded stiffly at me as I drew near. Wordlessly, I just nodded.

"This is the exit gateway miss; the entrance is on the other side. Please proceed a few meters down the street on your left. You'll find the entrance after a few minutes on your feet."

After I mumbled thanks, the guard did that stiff nod to me again. Better not to waste any more time, I pivoted around with my bike and headed to the direction that the guard told me. And after a few minutes of walking, I was standing in front of the entrance gate of Royale Arts.

If the exit gate was humongous - the entrance was gigantic. The Iron Gate was very gothic-looking with ivy climbing around it, almost as if it was artistically draped about the arc. The towers that stood tall had a rustic property to it. The entrance had three gates thrown open that were admitting limos, sedans and a few SUV's. Little old me was standing on the side walk with my antic bike in tow, jaw dropping to the ground.

As schools of luxurious cars were going into the school, the reality finally hit me square on the face. How was I ever going to fit in this school? These people - kids as old as I was - went to school in chauffeured sedans, limos and SUV's.

Thinking that it was still too early to even be intimidated, I slowly made my way through the gates. Living up to its name as the most ostentatious school in the country, the paved entranceway that led to the school building was impressive looking. The street was paved with neatly trimmed hedges lining it at either side. I was gazing around, impressed at the neatly kept lawn that was on my left. There were tall trees at the edge of the green field, planted just a few meters in front of the tall fence obscuring the castle-like school from outsiders’ eyes. The lawn on my right hosted as the parking space for the students’ and faculty members’ luxurious cars, stretching as far as my eye could see.

Most of the cars parked there cost more than my house and all my belongings put together. It was ridiculous that the majority of those vehicles were driven by kids no older than eighteen years old. These kids had no idea how lucky they were.

Figuring that I should find a spot to park my bike, I jumped on it and pedaled, following the moving cars toward the parking lot. Finding a spot to park my bike proved harder though as there were almost no spots available. Even if there were, there were these reservation signs that did not permit me to park my bike. Like, how inconvenient was that? You even had reserved parking space in this school?

As I continued my search around the parking lot for a small space for my bike, unconsciously, I was drawing a lot of attention to myself. Kids that were ambling from the parking lot for the school building were looking at me with mild, undisguised curiosity; eyeballing my bike and me, looking up and down. Ignoring the unwanted notoriety, I went on looking until I had found a spot. I was about to lock my bike when the thought occurred to me that I might not need to go through all that fuss. It seemed silly now to lock it up. Who in this school would want to steal my old bike?

Smiling slightly, I straightened up and as I stepped away from my bike, a guy appeared. He was wearing the school uniform but the school crest stamped on his breast pocket was a different color; his was gold while mine was silver. I was staring at him and soon realized that I couldn't stop - staring at him, that was.

He was so good- looking that I was positively gaping.

His dark hair was considerably neat except it looked like it had been pushed back or he had just been running his fingers through it. He was looking at me and my bike for a second before he blurted, “This yours?” he gestured to the bike.

Looking at his icy blue eyes, I nodded wordlessly. I was still admiring this stranger that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Good.” The stranger replied, stepped in front of me, jumped on my bike and sped away.

What the hell?

It was my first day of school and I'd been robbed. What kind of school was this?