Royal Academy Diaries I

Resident Prince Charming ⚜ Ch. 1

Crown Prince Marc Arinsal of The Principality of Andorra
Royal Academy, year three - 17
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Prince Marc knew the Academy welcome speech by heart. His parents had brought him along for as far back as he could remember. He knew where every class was, who taught it, and at least three secrets for every room.

Needless to say, he was anxious to get away from it all for a while. Well, that and the throngs of admirers that made a habit of following him.

He couldn't really understand it. He was average by comparison to the other royals that attending the Academy, or so he thought. Mediocre in all things, but evidently not in charm.

As he slipped through a secret passage, he patted his pocket to ensure that he'd remembered his wallet. It wouldn't do to get this far and have forgotten it. He bypassed the offshoot that let to the guard towers at the entrance, and took an even more obscure route - one even his father might not know about. It turned down a narrow stone path that overlooked a forgotten chamber of the dungeon below. Walking carefully along it, his thoughts weren't on the unknown secrets lying below, but on a lady.

Once at the end of the passage, he held his small torch up to a solid wall of stone. He pressed one, and the heavy escape door creaked as it slowly opened, the thick stones growling as the hidden mechanism within the walls turned.

Blinking in the sudden daylight, he put the torch in the bracket on the inner wall and stepped out onto the grass. He sighed happily and stepped out of the way as the door began to close. Now it was much easier to get a cab without the hassle of being noticed.

He walked to the edge of the road and waved down one of the familiar black cars. Upon opening the back door, he instantly recognized the driver. "Jon, how are you today sir?"

"Very well, Prince Arinsal," the man greeted. "Where in Vanera?"

"The bakery, if you please."

"Highness, it is a pleasure, as always." He put it back in drive, and the prince daydreamed all the way to the village. In fact the man's voice startled him slightly. "I'll pick you up in ten?"

"That would be just fine, thank you." Marc got out of the cab and stepped into the familiar pastry shop - and into someone. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry."

The girl straightened her tiara, which looked more royal to his trained eye. "It's my fault, I wasn't looking."

He bent to pick up the book she dropped, and noticed she was blushing a little in embarrassment. The prince smiled, going out on a limb as he guessed her rank. At least he wasn't likely to offend by calling her a higher position. "Not to worry, Princess. I must say, you look so familiar, but I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name."

"Oh, Princess Ardenne of Belgium," she said, confirming his hunch. "And I know you. I mean, at least your name. I mean, everyone knows you."

He smiled kindly, used to this sort of reaction. "So they do." Glancing down at the book, he saw that the cover was missing entirely. The pages were worn and weathered. "My, this book must be fascinating for it to be so well worn," he said, handing it back to her.

"Oh, yes it was my mother's copy of Pride and Prejudice," she said, correcting her crown a second time, or rather over correcting.

"Ah, allow me." Marc stepped closer and straightened it for her. "There." Glancing down at the book, he continued, "Your mother must have had a great love for it."

Ardenne nodded. "She did. I'm just scared this poor old thing is really going to fall apart one of these days. Uh, but I really ought to be going. Please excuse me."

"Of course. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess. Again, my apologies."

"Good day, your highness." She curtseyed and hurried out of the shop.

The prince chuckled, thinking little more of the encounter as he walked up to the counter, hoping to get something warm back to his girlfriend before the break ended.