I immediately make strong eye contact with the Prince . It wasn't even intentional.
I wish I could've looked away and acted like I didn't see him but it was too late for that.
The second our eyes meet, his widen with pleasant surprise to see a familiar face.
He offers me a polite smile that I half heartedly return, that is if you could even it call it a smile.
It didn't quite reach my eyes or really my mouth. I'm pretty sure it looked more like a grimace than anything.
And as if the whip of Satan cracked against my back, I shift my gaze to his left and spot the queen sitting next to him with a stare that should only be reserved for her worst nemesis.
It catches me off guard and my spine stiffens as my nostrils flare with a sharp inhale.
The Prince stands up, the golden tassels of his shoulder pads swaying as he does.
"Good morning ladies, I do hope your studies have worked up an appetite for you," he greets sweetly.
At least, that's what I think I heard. It was practically impossible to hear him grom a different room with a table ment to seat 100 girls between us.
Most of us just smile and nod since we really didn't hear shit.
Whatever it was must've been great cause he seems really enthusiastic about it
A small crease of confusion forms between his brows as he gages our reactions before he finally catches on to what I thought .
Understanding, far too slow for my liking, that his voice did not reach us he takes a deep breath to try again.
"Good-!"
"A king should never have to repeat himself!," his mother declares loudly. A decimal far louder than I think his voice could ever go.
He holds back a deep sigh and bends softy to her ears.
I try to read his lips because I'm nosy but fail to do so.
I didn't get a good reading due to the distance, but whatever it was upset her because right after, in a shrill voice, she states that, "The Prince regent must emulate such traits far before he takes the throne ".
She then proceeds to go on a tangent about respect and dignity, letting people know their place and a bunch of big other words I'm not even sure I could write.
He presses his lips in a thin line and does not argue, suddenly looking exhausted and irritated.
"You there," she says, pointing to a knight standing in the corner.
He blinks in surprise and clears his throat.
"My Queen," he says acknowledging her.
"Repeat the Prince words to the masses for him," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. Not even bothering to look at him as she finishes her order.
I know I'm not the kindest person and have never claimed to be, but each interaction I've seen her have with people have been questionable.
He stands proudly and turns to face us.
"His royal highness greets you and hopes that you are hungry!," he bellows. The Prince and everyone else jolting as he does.
He awkwardly shifts under the queen's gaze who is visibly annoyed at choice to paraphrase what was said, but she doesn't push that matter
"At ease".
With those two syllables he quickly quickly regains his composure and returns to his post.
The Prince mutters words of thanks to him who bows proudly.
A mass of rehearsed replies fly from other contestants lips as they probably deluded themselves into thinking he was speaking to them individually.
The Prince gestures for us to come in, probably giving up on trying to project his voice.
We filed in hesitantly, nobody wanting to be in the very front. We made our way in like a meek pack of sheep and sat wherever we wanted.
I made it a mission to seat myself in the at the furthest seat from him, right at the very end on the corner of his right side.
Dahyun was the only one who did not seem anxious in his presence.
She boldly walks up to the head of the table and sits next to him with a gorgeous smile.
I notice the queens brow twitch but she says nothing.
Expecting her to be next to me, I look to my left to talk to Jieun about it only to see a girl I've not spoken to.
Mere inches from her face she jumps and swerves around to face me.
"I beg your pardon," she says with a tone that very clearly shows her discontent.
I jolt back and immediately apologize
She make a face at me leaning in so close to her and shifts away slightly.
I mutter another apology but this one is less genuine because I start to look for Jieun.
I scan the table looking for her and nearly go blind due to the force that my eyeballs bulge when I do.
I spot her just in time to see her pulling out a chair beside the queen.
She smiles at her politely as she sits next to her and begins speaking but I don't know what she's saying because she's turned her body away from me.
Even if she was facing me, I doubt I'd be able to hear anything with the amount of chatter going on.
The Queen's eyes fiercely analyzes her.
She checks her hair, brows lifting slightly with approval when she sees its neat and well kept.
She scans the headband and her makeup, narrowing her eyes at the light pink that dusts her eyelids.
She was probably deciding whether or not she would have chosen that shade herself.
She outright glares at her lack of jewelry, Jieun spine tensing as she does.
She then drops her gaze to her dress and furrows her brows as she contemplates the simplicity of her dress before her eyes shoot back up to her face and locking eyes with her.
She locks eyes with her so fast that I see Jieun flinch. Unfortunately for Jieun, she notices that as well and presses her lips in a thin line.
You could cut the tension with a knife.
feeling nervous and anxious for her her I find myself consciously leaning forward not wanting to miss anything that happens.
Her eyes peruse Jieun's face and take in all of her features. Not a single line, mole, mound or dip went unnoticed.
I notice the Prince stealing a few glances at them while being in a conversation of his own with Dahyun.
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she offers Jieun a small smile, not one that was fake, strained or obligatory, a genuine small smile.
She's acknowledged her.
I see the Prince visibly relax and he gently ends his conversation with Dahyun to stand up.
That simple action was all it took for mouths to shut, backs to straighten and hands fold under the table.
I'm caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. At this very moment moment, his very being oozes kind of poise and dominance that only a member of the royal family could have.
I think back to all the other times I've seen him, he looked and felt nothing like how he does right now.
I'm struggling to believe that this is the same Prince I cussed out and the same one that couldn't stand up to his mother.
The Prince surveys the room and finds me, smiling again.
I look down and act like I'm smoothing put a wrinkle on my skirt. Muttering to myself for extra measure.
I wasn't expecting that.
I was thinking that he'd have my head on a platter and call me out in front of everyone for my atrocious behaviour last night.
But he looks pleased. He looks happy to see me. Perhaps he still hasn't caught on to my lie.
And if he did,maybe he found me entertaining. I could imagine myself being the most entertaining person he's come across in his life.
He live in a castle with knights that look like statues. A father who's always busy and a mother that's...well, her.
Maybe he's grateful for my presence.
But for some reason, a reason that gave me this weird gnawing sense of awareness.
For whatever the reason may be, that brief smile led me to believe that I'd have to give up on my plan of keeping a low profile.
"Ladies, I want to thank you again for taking part in this procedure. Dinner last night with you all was a pleasure, but it was a long day and I knew that lot of you were probably tired. It must've been hard to be at ease too with the camera crew filling you as you ate, hence, I've dismissed them for this morning so that you may settle in."
I'm surprised that he thought that much for our comfort. But then again, that falls in line with his character. While probably being too soft to rule a country, especially one that's in the condition that ours is in, he seems to be a decent person.
"I don't want to bother you all too much while you eat, so if you don't mind, one at a time I'll be calling you over to meet with me in a separate room for a brief one on one conversation".
It looks like he had more to say but the queen clasps her manicured fingers around his forearm and and stands up.
I'm an instant, I see all confidence and self assuredness that he had while talking dissipate.
Her grip on him was like a shackle that immediately took away all power.
She clears her throat and looks around the room. "As I'm sure you're already aware, there are quite a few of you," she lets a brief silence linger as she scans the room with pursed lips.
"Each meeting will be no longer than two minutes. The Prince and the empire require someone with character and an ability to draw people in quickly. If the Prince is unsatisfied with your conduct, will be eliminated," she says, putting extra emphasis on that last words.
The air seems to be sucked out the room as her words ring through the room.
The first elimination. But isn't it too harsh? Getting eliminated after a two minute conversation is mad.
The Prince let's out a controlled sigh, making sure it doesn't rack his body as the one he probably wishes to let out would.
"Worry not, you won't be sent home empty handed. You shall be sent home by carriage with perks, benefits and a generous donation for you family," the Prince explains to comfort us after the bomb his mother dropped.
Someone hesitantly raises a hand.
"What about our ranks, will we still remain threes?," she asks sheepishly.
Some smile and contain their snickers at the question while others look at the Prince intently, practically on the edge of their seat for his response.
I'm part of the latter group.
The Prince opens his mouth but no words come out as he makes a pained expression.
"We'll - - that-,"
"Certainly not," the queen jumps in while settling back in her seat.
"The promotions were simply to show our goodwill to the famaily of our future in-laws. Surely we couldn't have the family of the Princess regent living with a...well.. living in less accommodating title during these times," she says confidently until that last part, but I respect her for the attempt at some sensitivity.
"Besides, imagine the economic chaos that would cause. 100 random
Families elevated to the the level of respectable workers. Where was the effort? Where was the respectable struggle and transition? Where are the proper prerequisite? We must keep order and balance in this world".
The Prince looks uncomfortable with his mothers word choices but will not undermine her in public.
If I go home, nothing will change. My life will completely revert. The promotions are temporary. Goodwill my ass, this is a sick slap in the face to the lower ranks.
Giving us a and our family a taste of "luxury" only to snatch it from us and leave us on our faces once the cameras no longer have use for us.
Everyone who's not a three looks crushed and uneasy.
"And I'll have you all know, the camera crews will not be here while you're eating, but they will be present during your interviews. In fact, they're already waiting behind that door," she gestures to a set of doors behind her.
The Prince spins around to look at her mortified. Automatically I can tell that this wasn't discussed.
He wasn't more mortified than me however, because the thought of conversing after our initial meeting with a camera team is enough to make me feel like dropping out now.
The queen pins him with a stern look, silently demanding him to fix his face.
He does, but now looks as deflated as everyone else who received the news.
He stares at the table for a few moments before collecting oh himself with a stiff shake of his head.
He clears his throat.
"I'm sure you're all eager to eat, as I am," he jests, weakly trying to lift up the mood.
"Let us proceed with breakfast, and I'll start our conversations after the first ten minutes". He takes his seat and motions to the knights guarding the door to open it to show a whole staff of people carrying food.
Immediately I'm distracted from my thoughts to take in the feast that is being brought before us.
My mouth waters at sight of pastries I've only ever had the pleasure of seeing through a glass, different shades and cuts of meats and many other dishes I've never seen before.
Many of the other girls mouths gape in awe at the ensemble.
Once everything was laid in front of us, a small, old , bird like lady stands at the end of the table where I am and begins listing out etiquette rules.
What knives to use and where to put them, spoons for soups, desserts and tea as if anyone needs that many, volume levels when chatting to your neighbour and only your neighbour, and whole bunch of nonsense I couldn't care to listen to.
All I took away from her speech was that there's such thing as utensil sign language, whoever washes dishes here hates their job and that using your hands is equated to being a barbarian.
I usually don't judge others people culture and customs but I cant think of a scenario where eating jam and bread with a fork and knife makes sense. It feels criminal.
Using the tong that we were lectured to use for far too long, I pick up a weird pastry I've never seen in my life from a tower of whatever it was.
It about the size of a folded dish rag and was a tantalizing golden brown. There were lines in it that kind of resembled the vents in the palace that were filled with a glossy red jam.
I noticed peaks of white cream in there as well but I couldn't be too sure about what I was looking at.
I move to grab it with my hands but stop when that bat of an old women pins me with a wide eyes stare.
Annoyed and grumbling under my breath I unceremoniously grab my fork and knife to cut into it.
I cringe as the white substance and jam spill out and smear across the plate. Everything about it looks and feel wrong. All that jelly stuck to a plate for someone to scrape off.
It's flaky and hot, a thin line of steam arising as I open it. Even more reason why it makes no sense to cut it.
You mean to tell me I'm not meant to feel it's warmth between my finger tips and relish in the crispy exterior as my teeth penetrate the crust?
Madness.
I cut off a bite sized piece, mournfully stab it with my fork and close my mouth around it.
I've ascended.
My eyebrows shoot up to my hair line as the sweet and thick taste fill my mouth. Without even swallowing I'm hacking off another piece, much bigger.
I need a mouthful this time.
I cut off a piece equivalent to the size of a greedy bite and put it in my mouth with delight.
I squeal with my mouth full and kick my legs under the table in delight.
Turns out the cream wasn't cream at all but a thick cheese. It balanced the sweetness of it perfectly.
I finish in in three more bites and immediately take another. I repeat the same sinful action and pop it in my mouth.
Immaculate. Just as good as the last one. In three massive cuts I've finished it and taken. Yet another.
I couldn't stop. I lost count of the amount of pastries I've eaten. There were so many other foods to try as well but I couldn't bring myself to stop putting another sweet crisp on my plate each time.
Sweet crips, that's the name I've decided to give it. True and fitting to its name.
I've lost track of the time and indulged myself in my gluttony and health risking appetite.
In the middle of me taking yet another bite, someone come to my side.
"Would you like some coffee?," a soft voice asks next to me.
I turn to see a young maid with a glass cup of the most intricate of designs. I can smell the dark brew in it.
I've never been much of a coffee person but the sweetness was beginning to get overwhelming after the fifth-teenth one. They're quite thick to it was a lot on my palate.
I nod politely as my mouth was too full to give her a verbal reply. My bites progressively got bigger and bigger until I was practically finishing each one in three bites.
She sets it down and excuses herself.
I pick it up and bring it to my nose, I'm immediately reminded of the brew my dad drinks each morning.
It was nowhere near as rich or potent as the one I have now, but it was something.
I'd often come down stairs to see him sipping the same brew we've been stretching out for the last few days by adding water to the pot each time.
We'd boil a cup of the the beans and leave it on the stove so we could just keep adding water till it goes bad.
The color was more of a murky brown then a deep one by the fourth day, but he drank it each morning like it was just as good as the first.
I feel a pain in my chest as I recall the memory.
Suddenly feeling sad, I put the coffee down, no longer wanting to drink it, or even eat for that matter.
A wave of guilt washes over me suddenly.
Here I am in this fancy palace playing princess while eating these premium desserts meanwhile, my family is back at home probably eating the same stew and barely rice rice we've been eating the whole week.
Even though they were the ones who told me to go I feel like I'm betraying them.
It feels so wrong for me to be able to enjoy such luxuries while they're at home struggling.
I know that each family was raised to rank of a three, but just as the queen said that was just a play for the public eye.
You'd have to be delusional to imagine that anyone would let a five, let alone a seven enter into a restaurant for the business class and dine.
My appetite disappears and I set my half eaten crispy sweet down. I can't find it in me to finish It but I don't wanna waste it either.
Making sure nobody is looking, I snuck my hand up to the plate and quickly snatch it into my lap that's covered with a white cloth.
Using the cloth, I wrap it quickly and try to tuck it into the waist of my skirt while silently praying that it doesn't get squished.
I try to wiggly my finger in the waistband and immediately realize that this isn't going to work due to how tight it is .
My hands swim through the ocean of frills on my dress and look for a pocket I can slip it into.
I don't find one and start to panic because I have nowhere to shove it and if I keep taking so long, someone is bound to notice me trying to smuggle a crispy sweet under my dress.
"My dear?".
I throw it away perpendicular behind me. I hear its soft pat of contact with something but don't have it in me to confirm where it landed right now.
I look up quickly to see the Prince standing over me with a look of both confusion and light amusement.
His eyes follow the crumb trail from my place to the half eaten tower of crispy sweets before smiling lightly.
"I see you've taken a liking to the strawberry danishes", he says with amusement in his tone.
I follow his gaze and see that where a tower once was has been was by reduced about 70%.
67% from me and 3% from everyone else.
My face feels hot and I clear my throat, lowkey hoping that a response was somewhere in there and that I could I just clear it out of my voice canal.
"Shall we go now?," he asks medholicoly.
I hesitantly take his hand to stand and look towards where I heard my crispy swee- Danish land only to see Sir Soobin looking at me with a scowl m his face
When he got in I had no idea. The last time I saw him, he was guarding the doors.
My eyes travel down and I finally dee where my danish landed .
It's sitting at his foot and there's a dribble of red skidding down the side of it.
I bite back and smile and follow the Prince to the slaughter.
Once the door closes behind us, I'm immediately greeted by cameras and a giant microphone being held over a small table and two chairs that I assume we'll be sitting at.
There were about sixty people jammed in this little room.
I feel sick with apprehension. I felt my palms beginning to sweat and a lump forming In my throat.
One of the guys wiping the lense of the camer looks at me and smiles.
"Don't worry doll, we're not even here," he says brightly with so much confidence that I wondered if he truly thought I'd believe it if he does.
"Are you alright, dearest?," The Prince whispers in my ear. I jolt and turn to face him, kind of freaked out by how close our faces were.
His eyes search mine with a concerned expression and he squeezes my sweaty hand with care.
"We could postpone this if you'd like? Have you go last".
I shake my head immediately.
"No, don't worry I'm great!," I say a bit louder as higher than intended.
Sadly he's not a complete idiot because he holds eye contact with that same concerned look.
Realizing he would probably take me back outside by force if I didn't suck it up I take the initiative to loop my arms around him and practically drag him to the table.
"Why, we can't keep the other waiting so let's get in with it, shall we?", I say with as much confidence as I can.
He slightly stumbles to keep up with me.
I can feel the sweat rolling down my back as we sit at the table where a cup of tea and tray of cookies are waiting for us.
I don't really get how that makes sense because nobody is finishing a cup of tea in two minutes.
"Please, sit," I say while motioning with my hands for him to sit.
He sits down in front of me, looking a little surprised but also amused at the gesture.
He leans forward and folds his hands on the table. "What's your name, darling?".
I was about to retort that he already knew my name but I remembered the end of our conversation last night.
"(Y/N), I actually wasn't supposed to meet you one on one until tomorrow. It's best to not tell the others about this. In wouldn't want anyone getting upset or calling favoritism on you."
He give me a playful and knowing look as he waits for my response.
"Ah, (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N), your majesty."
He smiles and leans back in his seat . "(Y/N)," he says, playing with the syllable(s) on his tongue.
"A beautiful name, what does it mean?," he asks.
I open my mouth to respond but close it and make a face. To be completely honest, I actually have no idea what my name means because I never really cared to find out.
But I need to think of something fast otherwise I'll look ridiculous.
"I means lov- - joy! In....", I think of the furthest place from Athitin so nobody can fact check me.
"Garmulan," I say quickly
I amaze myself.
Garmula is on the other side of the earth. Surely I'll be safe with this. But I know that somewhere out there in Garmula, someone is tuning in right now and rolling.
His smiles gets bigger. "It means love in Garmulan?".
I nod my head with all the fake confidence I can muster.
"Yes, my mother had a thing for unique names and languages ," I say with a light laugh at the end.
Perfect (Y/N), you're doing great sweetie.
He narrows his eyes playfully and crosses his arms over his chest.
"My, You must be very well versed in Garmulan," he says with a teasing tone.
Something about it uneases me.
"You should teach me one day," he continues.
"I studied that language for nine years and here I thought love ment Aditti". His smile got bigger with each word.
Oh that little shit.
My heart drops to my ass crack and I try to laugh as naturally as possible while picking up my cup to muffle the words I say next.
"Yeah that means love too in.... In a different dialect! you know? Like in French how there's j'aime and je amour," I say while practically blowing bubble in my tea.
Until it clicks that my example make no sense at all because those words mean two different things.
"My mistake, sorry! It's so hard to remember all the French dialects I know". I want to off myself right now.
"Ah, so you speak French", he says while scooting his chair in.
"Quand tu arrive-".
"No!", I say loudly, cutting him off before he could talk to me in French when I literally only know three words.
"I've forgotten all of it, everything! It's been too long," I say while shoving a cookie in my mouth.
"Surely you must remember a little? After all, you've learned so many," he says with the most excitement I've seen from him.
"Qui, I did," I says, hating myself for how hard I'm trying to commit to this lie.
"But I have selective vocabulary so I don't really remember anything anymore. I knew them all a few months ago but now I don't know anything. I mean- - in do know stuff, but I'd need time to recall my studies."
I take a sip of my tea trying to gather my thoughts
"How did you learn?," he asks immediately after.
I sputter and choke a little bit, coughing and pounding my chest with my fist.
He offer me a handkerchief, "Please, be gentle with yourself," he says while pushing the tray of cookies closer to me.
I use me nearly dying as a excuse to "forget" to answer his question. Simply because I have no answer. It would be impossible for a five to get a French tutor
His eyes glint as if he wanted to say something else to watch me squirm. I can see him think about it before he laughs lightly decides to let my hair go.
"Very interesting, (Y/N)," he says, his tone and speed changing slightly when saying my name.
I can see the camera crew behind him holding their mouths and shaking with laughter while keeping their heads down.
This is so humiliating.
"We'll, my dear," he says says, paling slightly shortly after once he realizes what he said.
I didn't know what my face looked like in response because I was willing every muscle in my face not to move, n no but his looked like he was biting back a laugh so it must've been a sight to behold.
" How was your first day? Did you sleep alright," he asks.
I place down my empty cup, surprised at how fast I cleared it. Maybe it is possible to finish a cup of tea within two minutes after all.
"I slept great last night, the bed was like a cloud," I say while remembering how nice it felt.
The first truth In this whole interaction. I mean every word I say when I talk about that bed.
It was heaven.
Behind him I see the crew waving with ten finger in the air, probably a time warning.
I assume that the same signal was being given to him behind me because he reaches across the table and take my hand.
"We'll, it's been a pleasure speaking with you, miss (Y/N)," he says, thumb rubbing slow circle on the top of my hand.
"Hopefully we'll be able to have more conversations in the future. That way you can tell me all about your studies in the different dialects of French Garamulan," he says with a knowing smile.
Please make it end.
I smile and put my best face on. "Yes, hopefully I we can talk again and discuss it in further detail."
This time I hear some muffled giggles around me.
The Prince? Oh, looks like he's having the time of his life. Maybe this is karma for how I treated him last night.
"Allow me to escort to you back to your seat," he says was while rounding the table to offer me his arm.
I take it without any delay, trying to scrape up whatever dignity I have left.
We exit the room, one the directors giving me a thumbs up as we do.
I want to collapse and stay on the ground as I replay our interaction im my head.
What on earth was I doing? On national television too?! Oh my days.
He brings me to my seat and before leans down closely to my ear once I'm seated.
"I look forward to our next interaction, (Y/N)".
That told me everything I needed to know in that moment.
I'm not going anywhere.
To be continued...