Lady Mary: Royalty or Casualty?

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

                I ran to the bathroom. Luckily, there was a mirror, a sink, a toilet in front of the sink, and a shower beside the toilet separated by a translucent shower curtain. I threw my clothes outside the bathroom to keep it dry. I turned the knob and icy-cold water welcomed me.

                I remembered the last time I had a cold shower like the one in the bathroom. It was eight years ago. I was still nine and Kyle wasn’t sent to Palm Islands that time. Hamish, Kyle, Stylle, and I went outside in the rain and played. Our parents warned us about getting flu, but we insisted to play. We stumbled on mud, danced under the rain, and even played with the hose to add more water.

                The fact that we were all divided now saddens me. I recently heard from Hamish—from Stylle, as usual, that he might be sent to Waterworks to govern the place. But I have to move on. I knew that this wouldn’t be a problem as long as I’d get used to it.

                I came out of the bathroom after a five-minute bath. There was a basket outside the bathroom; it was filled with clothes that were hastily placed. I placed my old clothes as well—thinking it might be a laundry basket. I stared at an old wall clock. 8:22. Shoot. No more blank stares, Mary. No more!

                I entered my—or our—room and opened the cabinet. There was no uniform, so I wore a casual one instead: a floral sundress with a plain white tee-shirt over my sundress and a pair of floral pumps. I found my shoulder bag in the cabinet already stuffed with two notebooks and a sign pen. Immediately, I hung my bag on my left shoulder and dashed toward the door.

                Warm wind greeted my cheeks as I came out of the door. People were walking on the pavements; others were busy calling the managers—probably, apologising for being late, I suppose. I walked gently toward the pavement and observed the surroundings. It was much better in the morning than in the evening.

                I heard someone running toward me from behind. “Excuse me, miss, excuse me!” I turned to the voice. It was a girl, probably a student basing from her oval-shaped glasses and books tightly pressed against her chest. She bumped against me and had her books and papers scattered all around the pavement. “Sorry,” she said. I shook my head and helped her pick up her books. “It’s fine,” I cooed.

                She looked up to me, eyes widening, “That voice! That hair! Those eyes! Her Highness, Lady Mary Elizabeth Juliet of Vineyard, daughter of His Highness, Baron Richard Harold Knightley the Second! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She grabbed my hands and shook hands with me. She looked very happy and pleased, while on the other hand, I was shocked, nervous, and scared—that girl knows every name I had, even my father’s ‘the Second’!

                I looked down to her papers, hoping I could deduce something to counter-attack her—even if I would get tonnes of appreciation afterward—more like squeals. Sketches. Panels. Oh, and my favourite, Boys’ Love paraphernalia. I know that art! This one was in Japan’s Comiket last year. The Mysterious Writer…

                 I stared at her and smirked. “Oh, hello! I’m a die hard fan of you!! Can I have your autograph? I heard your comics were anonymously published in Japan,” I said.

                She broke free of my hand and gaped. She was mouthing out words that seemed to be, “How did you know?” I replied and picked up her papers, “I deduced, Miss Camille, or shall I say, Fushigi Sakka”

                She cleared her throat and smiled, “Uhh, yeah, nice counter-attack, there. Err, you can call me Camille.”

                I looked at her and gave her the papers. I smiled then said, “Mary, only Mary.” I walked away as soon as she took the papers. She’s a genius; she knew that my words were my counter-attack. I loved her works back when I visited Japan, I bought her series. I never knew the writer would just be in Monsterre, not in Japan. Her stories were filled with complex love stories, all criss-crossing each other that made a masterpiece. But one thing made me love her works was her detailed art on the scenes—and by the scenes, I meant the gay sex scenes.

                Contrary to what people think, I’m actually a geek, a porn addict, and a rotten lady. Back in the palace, I was a nocturnal girl who watches gay people ram each other’s arse every night. I bought several books in my tour in Japan. I even had trouble hiding it from the other royalties—such as Hamish and Stylle. Anyway, my trip ended with all my clothes in my shoulder bag and all the books went inside my suitcase.

                “Lady Mary,” spoke Camille, breaking me off from my thinking barrier. I turned and sighed. How many times should I smack this person’s head to get that I am no longer a part of the Royal Family! She stood there, very far away from me. “Vineyard Comprehensive High School is that way,” she informed while pointing to her back.

                “How did you know my school?” I asked. Normally, if people saw me, they would’ve pointed to SRA—or Shakespeare Royal Academy.

                “Process of Elimination, your Highness, there are only two schools in Vineyard Valley,” replied Camille. “The other schools were made into Universities and only offer Bachelor Degrees. Now, you’re still in High School, aren’t you?”

                Oh, the stupidity. I was the one who even signed the entire upgrade. How dare am I to forget such important detail. Fine, maybe, I wasn’t that fine. I’m still in shock—my shock blanket is still on, just invisible.

                I nodded and thanked her. We went together to school. During the entire walk, Camille kept on telling me about my self as if I was an amnesiac. Though, there were some parts that I don’t recall happening—there were also parts that she never knew…and that is my relationship with Hamish.

                Talking about Hamish, he might not marry me anymore. Things just happened. What the Queen had declared was Hamish’s engagement to the Lady of Vineyard…not specifically me. Although, I knew Hamish wouldn’t give up to what he wants, he’d always and forever be under the Queen. Sometimes, I’d think that he would sacrifice to be with me, but that’s highly unlikeable.

                “…and the Crown Prince is gay anyway,” Camille paused and looked at me. I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I always thought I knew better than her but then…how can she say that part so calmly? I gave her a look.

                “What? Seriously, I caught him and the Viscount of Britain together in a restaurant,” continued she. I gave her glare, but she seemed to be unaffected and smiled. “…err…this January…around the end of the month… Thirty, I guess. You want proof?”

                I was dumbfounded. Camille rummaged her bag for her pink camera, which she showed me with a photograph of the Viscount kissing my boyfriend. The date said, ’30 January 2014 19:02’ and that happened on our anniversary, when he invited me to dinner and never came. Does that even mean that he was actually using me to tell his family he’s got a girlfriend? Did he really intend to keep it within his family to save that viscount from heartbreak?

                “EARTH TO LADY MARY!!”