Thursday: Prince Raul

16 2 0
                                    

So I heard you're into gardening.

Huh? What a random thing to blurt out the morning before our meet up.

Um, no. It's for publicity. I do love spending time in the garden though.

By reading some med books?

Wow. He knows my major? I made sure it stays confidential.

I'm impressed, prince. May I kindly have your name already?

Don't let me take all the credits, princess, I simply read the title. Fancy a company?

Wait. He can't already be here, like, right now, can he?

I dart my eyes across my quarter's garden, a bit in a hurry to spot him.

"Princess. An honour." A tap in my right shoulder got me turned around. Standing slightly to my right is a brown-haired guy, his eyes the colour of morning sky. Square jaw, pale skin, a smirk in his round eyes.

And a teapot in his hand, as he fixes a bow. "I brought you tea."

From his navy blazer that compliments his blue eyes, I can safely say he's not one of the butlers.

"You came." I take my time studying his gestures (not in the slightest awkward or nervous) before continuing. "A little early for lunch, don't you think?"

"May I?" He gestures to the seat opposite of me.

"You have to make yourself announced first, I'm afraid." I smirk. Can't let him have his ways all the time now can I?

His eyes twinkle as he recites his title. "Prince Napoleon of Magnemt, Duke of Praha. At your service, Your Royal Highness Crown Princess Jennifer of Primavara, Duchess of Elska."

Napoleon, truly? Anne and Raphael are in for a laugh.

"You may sit. And call me Jenny."

He pours me some tea before sitting. "I brought the tea leaves from my garden. I hope it's to your liking, princess."

"So you're the one into gardening, I take it? And, please, call me Jenny."

"I would be, if that's where to find a beautiful dork with her nose buried in her books."

"You flatterer. Now let me hear you call me by my name."

Nap looks me in the eyes and says, unwavering, "Princess."

There's something in the way he said it, something ... sentimental, as if he said it to call me, instead of my title.

I must be losing my mind.

I shrug, hurriedly leaving my trance. "You made your mind, I see."

"It's a compliment. Please accept it."

I stare at him, mouth agape. In all my years being the first-in-line, I've had too many shares of compliments to the point they disgust me. And 'princess', of all things? That's all I've ever been called, many, many more than my own name.

So it's not exactly easy to comprehend that I'm getting butterflies instead of churning stomach by the same old compliment.

"Thank you." I barely managed to compose myself. What have you done to me, prince?

He relaxes into a smile. "I thought you would've asked Al about me. I guess I think too highly of myself."

"Now why would I spoil the surprise?"

He chuckles, gratitude in his eyes. "So, medicine is your passion?"

I'm not usually comfortable with this topic, since it can only ever be a knowledge at best to me, but whatever. He earned it.

Twelve Dancing PrincesWhere stories live. Discover now