𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 | 𝟏𝟖+

4 | doubts

I walk back into the room and press my fingers to the bed, the softness caressing my fingers in a lingering touch. At least I knew I'd be getting a good night sleep, the bed felt nothing like my lumpy mattress back home.

My wrist raises to my eyes, taking one look at my watch. I start directly at seven o'clock, meaning I have an hour or so to get myself ready, unpack my things and make myself at home.

You're not going to last five minutes. The Princesses determined voice floats through my head.

If she thinks I'm going to back down to her, then she's got another thing coming. That smug look on her face made my blood boil, the King is a kind man and she retaliates like a troubled teenager.

She's in her twenties yet she acts immature, from what I can see anyway.

I empty my suitcase and hang up my shirts and fold my trousers neatly, lining my shoes up against the wall. My eyes take one glance in the mirror and I change my white shirt for a black one, leaving the top buttons undone.

Tucking the shirt into my dark trousers, the belt clinging to my hips. I roll the sleeves up to my elbows and adjust the length so my forearms are on show.

I remove my phone from my pocket and place it on charge directly next to my bed, keeping an eye on the time. Five minutes till the King wants me to start guarding Everly.

Once I'm ready I take a step outside my room, shutting the door firmly behind me and proceed down to the ground floor. I nod at the maids and other guards I encounter until I hear voices coming from the dining room.

I raise my knuckles and brush the carved grand door.

"Yes?" Richard calls out.

My hand presses to the door and I take a step inside, the King and Queen sat around the stupidly large table, one at each end and Everly in the middle. Her eyes don't meet mine, they lay firmly on the dish in front of her.

"Grayson," Richard smiles, checking his pocket watch. "Right on time."

I walk close to the table, letting the door shut behind me. My eyes flick to the Queen and admire her dark curly hair reaching her shoulders, bright red lipstick on her mouth with pearly white teeth.

"Your majesty," I bow my head to her.

"Pleased to meet you, Grayson. Please call me Ethel." She smiles in my direction, the crinkles of her skin beside her eyes showing.

I dismiss myself and stand by the door, hands behind my back and facing the opposite wall. They hadn't finished their dinner yet but I didn't want to be a second late. This job is important to me and I need to show that I am committed. That includes being punctual.

"Come on, Everly," Ethel grumbles. "You've barely eaten anything and we asked the kitchen to make this specifically for you."

Everly doesn't respond and I continue to stare at the wall.

Richard grunts disapprovingly. "You love spaghetti bolognese."

"You guys don't know anything about me."

"Don't be so ridiculous," Ethel tuts.

"I said I love spaghetti once and now you use that as some kind of leverage to say you're doing something nice for me," her voice is quiet but her words sound like poison.

I can see out of the corner of my eye as the Queen glances at the King, no one says anything for a few moments and even I could feel the tension in the air. I didn't even know these people and it made my skin chill, the dead silence in a loud echoey room.