Dirty Little Secrets

Cinnamon and Apples

    I hopped out of the gray van, breathing in the musky air of Welle.I was being taken to a masquerade ball. I was an agent for the W.O.E., Women of Earth. The agency required Women only.

    Our boss is Hera Becknaj, a very wealthy, Russian woman. Her Great Great Grandmother was the first leader. My mission was to look over Prince Kennedy of Welle. Terrorists were planning to assassinate him at his ceremony to become king of Welle, in 3 months. I was to watch him like a hawk without him knowing.

  "You know what to do." My partner Jacob said nodding his head. I had dark red lipstick on and an ankle length black dress with a slit by the thigh to hide my gun. I wore Kennedy's favorite color dress to make him notice me. I walked through the corridor doors mysteriously.

    I gave the butler my coat and looked for Kennedy. There he was, on the top of the stairs. " Found him," I whispered into my headpiece. " Your job is to get close to him, remember this will last 3 months until his Ceremony." I breathed a heavy breath. "Got it," I said preparing for the worst.

   I grabbed a red wine out of a woman's hand. I walked around curiously looking around for him to notice me. He started walking down the stairs as I purposely bumped into him spilling my red wine all over him and myself. "Ohh, my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" I kept rambling. "No, I'm sorry, it was completely my fault ." He said. His voice had a sexy masculine sound to it. Even the English accent he had, gave me butterflies. I waved the feeling away. I couldn't mess this mission up. Not again.

  "Look at your dress, it's worse than mine." He said attempting to make the situation better even how bad it was.
"No, your Kennedy, the crowned prince of Welle, I'm the one who should be apologizing."

   He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but just because I'm a higher caste than you doesn't mean I shouldn't treat you with the same respect as anyone else here In this room." He said with sternness in his voice. "I'm sorry I made you so upset but I didn't mean any harm by that."
"I apologize as well, you didn't mean anything, it's just when someone brings up the subject of our peoples differences sends chills down my spine." He said ever so smoothly. It was as if he prepared this whole conversation. I could tell he loved and cared for his country and the people in it, so why would someone want to assassinate him?

  The way he talked to me in an aggressive yet subtle way made me nauseous of how perfect a person could be. "Ohh, your dress, I can get my sister to let you borrow one of her dresses?" He said genuinely being nice to me. "Um, that would be nice thank you," I said smiling at him. He walked up to his sister, Princess Adrenaline, and whispered something in her ear.

   When she turned to look at me, her face turned pale. "You," she said glaring daggers at me. "GUARDS, GET THIS WHORE OFF OF THE PREMISES, NOW!" I was in awe. I was confused. I was angry. She looked into my eyes long and hard. It looked as if smoke was steaming out of her ears. "WHAT!?!" I barked while getting pulled out of the building. "WHAT THE HELL!" I screamed as the guards threw me into the inkiness of the night.

  I looked around for Jacob. No one in sight. What would you expect at 10 O'clock on a Sunday night? The only brightness in the entire city was the candlelit street lights. This town was really ancient.

   I walked cautiously down the sidewalk. IT. WAS. FREEZING. I watched through the window as couples danced gracefully to the song. I was like I walked into a fairytale. It was perfect.

"You look cold." A mysterious voice said to me. "I beg your pardon," I said looking him in the eyes. "Let me rephrase that, 'Would you like my jacket?' " He said in a fake English accent. "Either your accent's fake or, I just Have oddly bad hearing." He giggled at that. "Is that a yes or a no?"
"It's a maybe," I said smirking. He came into the light of the Ballroom. He had a very chiseled chin, dirty blonde hair, and light blue eyes. His eyes were beautiful. "What, is there something on my face?" He said jokingly touching his face. No, your face is an angel sent from heaven. "No," I said snapping out of my daydream.

"What's your name?" He said looking into my dark blue eyes. "Lillian," I said starting to walk backward. "Don't you want mine?" He yelled. "Then tell me!" I yelled back. "It's Gerald." I gasped. He was the Gerald Clark. He looked exactly like him. Son of the unknown whereabouts of country artist, Jerry Waller and the youngest daughter of the deceased king and queen, Madeline Clark. I stopped walking. "Gerald Clark?" I questioned.

  "Yeah, Why?" He asked concerned by the question I asked. "You look like him," I said. "I hope so, I am him." He said with a laugh. "I gotta go," "Bye, Gerald," I said with sadness in my eyes by leaving him. "Goodbye, Lillian." He said with a warm smile.

  I walked for at least an 30 minutes  just looking for a train of some sort. NOTHING. I turned around to see a car flashing its headlights at me. A strange man rolled down his window. He threw his cigarette on the ground and looked at me from top to bottom. "Can I help you?" I said sternly. "Fiesty," he mumbled. His scraggly beard and alcoholic breath made me cringe. "So, Princess, do you know where I can find you in bed with me?" He said smirking while Glancing at my exposed leg. "Go. To. Hell." I said looking him in the eye.

   When I said that I started to walk away, but he got out of his car just in time to grab my arm. "Listen here you little Slut you're going to come with me, buy us some champagne and have a little one on one time and you ain't gonna tell nobody about this, understood?" He said squeezing my arm a little harder. His southern accent made the whole situation even worse. I was about to pull my gun out when out of nowhere a man punched drunk in the face.

  "What the Hell!" I took my hand away from my thigh so the man wouldn't see the gun. "Umm, thank you, sir" "But I'm certain I had that under control," I said blankly at him. "It didn't look like it." He said picking up the man to throw him in the alley. When he stepped into the light I could clearly see it was Kennedy. " Kennedy?" "Yeah, that's my name." He said laughing it off.

  "I just have a few questions," He smiled again. "Why did your sister fricken throw me in the street?" I said "To be honest," he started to say, "I have no clue, but she gets whatever she wants and if she happens to dislike you she can throw you out without anyone else's consent." He talked so politically, he would make a great king. "I have no clue either, I've never talked or seen her ever," I said getting to the point.

    He looked at my arm that was a deep purple and green. I covered it up with my other arm so he didn't see it. When I touched it I flinched. "you're hurt," " let me help," He said walking closer to me. He gestured for me to show him, and I did. I gave him my hand. "Is it bad," I said looking at it. "Come with me," he said holding my hand. I did as he said and followed him back to the palace. 

   It took again, 30 minutes, for us to walk back to the palace. We got to the entrance of the palace where the stairs were. There still were people roaming around, but not many. We walked into the palace and Kennedy talked to a butler. "Conrad, would you be so kind as to get my sister away from the south side of the palace, Thank you," he said nodding his head. Conrad glanced at me and winked while walking away. I don't know what he was thinking but I know for sure that wasn't happening. 

  We entered a room that was VERY clean. It had a king size bed, a desk, a bathroom, a mini living room and kitchen and round stairs leading up to the bed.
The way it was styled matched out the bit of personality I had poured out of him.

  It was silent. "I like your room," I said breaking the silence. "Thanks," he said.

"You can make yourself at home." I sat down on his couch. When I'd turned to ask him a question he was gone. "Kennedy?" I asked. "Yeah." He yelled from the bathroom. He walked out carrying, a bandage wrap, alcohol and vaseline. He used a washcloth to wipe alcohol on my cut.

  I breathed through my teeth. I flinched when he got to the sensitive part. He looked at me and stopped. He got the vaseline and rubbed it on my arm. It didn't hurt. After that, he got the bandage and wrapped it around my arm.

   "Thank you," I said. "You can sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the couch." He said pointing to the bed. "Ok," I said not wanting to argue with him about it.

  I got in the bed and put the covers up. His bed smelled like cinnamon and apples. It also smelled like his cologne.
That night I fell asleep smelling Cinnamon and Apples.