The Lady Knight

Chapter XXI: Confusions and Congratulations

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Well, that was completely useless."

He sat up straight, rubbing his eyes. "Good morrow to you too, sunshine," he muttered, his deep voice still husky with sleep, "but I am afraid I do not understand what you mean."

"I brought you a pillow and a blanket, only for you to wake up and render them completely useless," I huffed, tying my hair up into a bun.

"I apologize?" it came out as a bewildered question.

My next question was already on my tongue. "Why were you sleeping without a coat or a blanket on? You could have so easily fallen ill."

He tilted his head at me. "I had hardly planned to sleep here, Julie," he drawled with a teasing glint in his eyes.

That was sufficient to set my cheeks on fire once more, and I turned away before he could notice and tease me further about it.

"All right, all right, you need not amuse yourself over it, Your Royal Highness," I muttered, "now that you are awake, I would appreciate it if you could leave this room...discreetly."

"I see you have resumed calling me 'Your Royal Highness'," he chuckled.

"Why?" I frowned, confused, "what is wrong with that? You are a Crown Prince, and that is your title, yes?"

"Aye..." he trailed off.

"Then what is the problem?"

He stared straight at me. "The problem is, that is not my name."

I was stumped. His diction rang a dim bell in my mind.

"Did you call me Nick?" the Prince queried incredulously.

"That is your name, yes?"

"Aye..." he trailed off.

"Then what is the problem?"

"Just when I think that I cannot become more stupid, I do something even more foolish that plunges my dignity into greater depths down the drain," I scowled at myself.

He burst out laughing at my mortified expression. "There is nothing foolish about that," he smiled faintly, "although, to be truthful - " he hesitated, seeming uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Did I say anything else that I ought to remember and berate myself for the rest of my life?" I groaned, my shoulders slumping dejectedly.

"Nay, nay, it is not that," he looked everywhere but at me, struggling with words, "rather, it felt nice when you called me by my given name."

I tilted my head at him, very much confused, but waited for him to continue.

"What I mean to say is, hearing you address me by my title was rather amusing in the beginning, but it has lost its humour now," he admitted, "I have known you for almost all my life, Julie. Is such formality truly necessary?"

His grey eyes were swirling with conflict, as if he was confused by what he was asking as well.

I was speechless once more. What had triggered this? For most of our childhood, he had argued and insisted that I addressed him by his title and giving him the respect that he was entitled to as a Prince of Monrique, even though I was convinced he was not worthy of it.

Never in my wildest dreams had I expected this situation to arise. "Allow me to comprehend this," I drawled slowly, "you are asking me to call you Nick, as I used to when we were younger? Even after pestering me for years into addressing you by your title?"