24 Hours With a Prince

Love, actually?

Arne's words echoed in my head. "Some say love is easily mistaken for hate".

What was that meant to mean? I wasn't in love with him. I knew that was true. I could never love someone like that. Someone so... much like him. With his sarcasm, and cockiness, and attitude. Arne wasn't right. There was no way he could be. Could there?

Why was I even entertaining the idea? I scolded myself for doing such a thing. I wasn't in love with him. I didn't even like him, and surely you needed to like someone to be in love with them?

I snapped back to reality with a jolt, and suddenly I was back in my room.

I surveyed my room for a moment, a little startled by my thoughts. The centre-piece of the room was a huge king-sized bed with plush velvet bedding, flanked by two ornate night stands. I could feel my rug cushioning my feet as I paced the room. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. The fireplace roared softly, providing a nice atmosphere and a soothing sound. A mahogany wardrobe stood at the wall, filled with the finest silks and velvets money could buy.

Between the door and the bed, there were two soft couches, both surrounding a small table filled with books and covered in coasters. I sat on the floor in front of the sofa, completely disregarding it as a seat, and spread out next to the table.

I took a look at the books on the table. Some of them were ones I'd read before, some were new. Some had pages folded and the spine bent whilst others were pristine and untouched.

Normally, my room was my safe place, a place to get away from the judgement; the questions, but today it seemed they followed me here. Today, everything seemed to be judging me.

Questioning me.

My chandelier stared down at me from above each candle flickering above tauntingly. 'In love? Your in love!'. The voices in my head screamed my fears like the devil on my shoulder.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Somebody rapped on the door, bringing me away from my thoughts a second time.

"Yes?" I called "Come in?"

The door shifted open, revealing Prince Kavan standing there, illuminated by the light of the hallway outside.

"Hello?" he drawled, eyes narrowing in concentration. "Diera?" He said my name like a song, his accent made it sound like nothing I'd ever heard before. He looked lost, stood before my room, a neat assortment of furniture, each corner, nook and cranny filled with a tiny detail about my life.

I quickly realised he couldn't see me from where he stood at the door so I poked my head into view. Only then did I realise what time it was.

"It's lunchtime" he scowled, either annoyed at my organisation or annoyed at having to see me.

"I just realised that, thanks" I sighed, tired of his attitude already.

"Come on then? Your parents want you? Seriously?"

With a sigh, I got up and followed him out, irritated that he was the one to find me, but a tiny piece of me - was glad.

The dining room was by far one of the most extravagant places in the castle; a grand oak table stretching across the centre, each side of the table flanked by many plush seats. sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting a rainbow of colours onto such a feast. There were piles of fluffy mashed potatoes, jugs brimming with gravy, freshly baked bread covered in butter just about to melt. There were vibrant salads, bursting with crisp greens, adorned with cherry tomatoes. A towering pile of pastries sat dusted with powdered sugar - in the centre.

I sat in the middle of the table, with my parents on either side of me, and Prince Kavan opposite. I waited for everyone to take a seat before I started to eat. Surprising even myself, I came to the decision that I would try to be nicer to the Prince. I offered him the mashed potato.

Dedicated to prittinastick for inspiring me to keep writing this shit

:)