Maid For You 4

Chapter 13

Late that night, I called up Princess Calista to see how she was doing. Afterall, I was her lady-in-waiting, and I had been thinking of her—well, obviously, I'd been thinking of her due to the time I'd been spending with her not-fiancé. But more than that, I'd developed a surprising sort of kinship with the princess. Despite her obviously higher social status, she was almost like a little sister, or at least, what I imagined it would be like to have one.

"Hello?" I heard her pristine little voice answer me.

"Hey Princess Calista! It's me, Cassie!"

"I know that. I have caller-ID." I could see her judgmental stare in my mind's eye, with her sharp green eyes and perfectly arched, dark eyebrow and the slight sneer on her lip.

Oh, what a girl, I'd weirdly grown fond enough of her that her mean looks made me smile.

"Right," I said. "Well, I'm just calling to see how you're doing." I settled myself into the love seat in my room.

"How I'm doing?"

"Yes. Just checking up on you, nothing crazy."

"Oh, I see..."

I tried to discern her tone. It wasn't annoyed or haughty, but almost contemplative.

"So, what's up?"

She didn't answer for a second.

"Calista? Are you there?" I pestered.

"Yes, yes, I'm here!" she said with a little huff. "It's just, well..."

"Well what?" I knew how Calista was. To get any sort of juicy information out of her, one had to poke and prod until she finally confessed whatever it was that she was holding in. See, Calista wanted to talk to me about whatever it was, but she didn't like to make it easy. "Is it about Lysander?" I asked.

"Lysander?!" Her voice went up a pitch.

Lysander François—Mercucio's 17-year-old brother—with whom Princess Calista had reconnected at her debutante ball and with whom we had had many girl-talk sort of conversations about. The two had texted some, and talked on the phone for a bit, but that was all. At least, all that I was aware of.

"So it is about Lysander!" I leaned forward in my chair, a grin spreading across my face. "What's new with him?!"

"Well..." she was teetering, as she always did. "It's just—"

I was holding my breath.

"Well, can you keep a secret?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"What?! You hope to—what?" I could imagine her pretty little face scrunched together, her lips drawn into a pouty expression that clearly exhibited her confusion. She often made this face when I used phrases and slang she didn't understand.

"It's an expression," I said. "Like, I cross my heart in that I'm swearing I'll keep it a secret, and I hope to die if I tell your secret. 'Cross my heart and hope to die.'"

"So, um, is that a—"

"I will keep whatever you tell me a secret. Unless you did something horrific and like, murdered someone or something I don't know."

"Do you really find me capable of such a thing?" Her pristine accent seemed more haughty now, and suddenly I had the thought that she and Nikolas might make a fine pair after all. I could imagine him saying the exact same words in his Russian accent.

I rolled my eyes, nice and clearly since she couldn't see me. "No, Princess. I'm just joking. What happened with Lysander?"

"Well," she said for the 8 billionth time. I imagined her pacing around the room. "You see, last night, my family and I went over to the François estate for dinner.

"Really?"

"Yes. And, of course, Mama and Papa talked quite a bit with the Marquis and Marchioness. Lots of politics and money to be discussed, of course. Coleman, naturally, went off with Mercucio."

"Of course..." I liked where this was going.

"And, well, Rosalind wasn't there, their sister, since she lives with her husband. So, you see, it was just me and Lysander left."

"Well then, it sounds like you two had no choice but to spend time with each other," I teased.

I thought about the little smile she got on her lips when she was trying to conceal it. "Indeed."

My phone began buzzing in my hand, and I checked it to see that caller-ID had lit up with another caller. His Royal Pain. I sighed and hung up on Coleman before resuming my conversation with Calista and her crush on Lysander.

***

The next day, Melaniya dressed me in one of the new deep purple dresses Nikolas had bought me yesterday, and I was taken to a large room in the palace with wooden floors, mirrors, and little to no furniture. A blonde man and woman were in the room dancing across the floor to some classical music—their dancing was elegant and beautiful, and I thought back on the few ballroom dance classes that Queen Klara had put me in.

"Hello, Miss Carmichael," the blonde man said, stopping his dance as soon as he noticed me. "My name is Peter. This is my wife, Anna. We will teach you how to dance."

The next few days were pretty simple. I took dance lessons with Peter and Anna, ate meals with Nikolas, and even enjoyed exploring Kuvnisk with Melaniya. One day, I was dancing with Peter when I heard a voice from behind.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Peter twirled me around so that I was face to face with Nikolas, looking surprisingly relaxed in the doorway with his thumbs resting in his pockets. I beamed.

"Of course you may."