24 Hours With a Prince

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

—————— Prince Kavan: ——————

“WHAT THE FUCK!” I shouted, my voice echoing around my empty room, there I stood, clad only in a towel, clutching a pile of clothes to my chest, with the princess standing in the doorway.

“Hello” she stuttered, her cheeks turning pink. “I’m— I’m sorry”

Her eyes trailed down my chest, slowly at first, then a little frantically. As if she couldn’t decide where to look.

“You washed” she pointed out “And now you’re in a towel.” I followed her gaze, making sure none of my scars were visible. None were, my eyes returned to her face.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, aware she would have come here for a reason. Despite all my best efforts, she still seemed to hate me.

She shook her head, pulling me from my thoughts, she draped my jacket down on the sofa next to her. Her eyes diving one more time.

Oh. Nothing was wrong. At least not any more. She had come to return my jacket, but now, now she was just checking me out. Blatantly. Perhaps unknowingly too, as she never normally showed me this much attention.

Her eyes settled on the tattoo that spanned the bottom of my stomach, right above my towel.

It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

The words stood there, a stark contrast to my pale skin, permanent. A quote from a book, one of my favourites. The reason that I was here with her instead of at my palace - thinking about her.

Forgetting about the shock of her being here, basking in her attention - and unable to help myself. “Enjoying the view?”

Her eyes jerked back to my face, “Sorry, what?”

“Are you enjoying the view?” I asked, barely able to hold my laughter back.

“Oh….. I wasn’t, I mean— I wasn’t trying to-” she took a breath. “I’m sorry. I just came to give your jacket back.”. She gestured to where she had laid it out. “I’ll— I’ll go now” she said hastily, her breath hitching. Suddenly, she was gone with the whirl of her dress.

I sat down, quite aware of how empty the room felt now, without Diera’s comforting presence. Left to my thoughts, I wondered why she did bring me my jacket back, she was probably aware that I had more than plenty of them to spare - if she truly did hate me like she seemed to, why make an audience with me on her own accord?

Mind brimming with questions, I started to get ready - the only proof of her visit still sitting there on the sofa.

Chapter dedicated to bluewrites11 for their support!!

:)