A/N:
Hey, fam!
Alright, so here's the deal: I want to make The Seven Princes into a real book, but to do that, I need to change a few things about the original story. First, is all the names. I'll be changing those. (Defamation laws and all that.) Also, I'm changing it to 5 princes instead of 7, because that lets me create stronger romance lines between the main character at the others.
I hope you're not too disappointed. I won't be changing the story on Wattpad at all, so don't worry.
This is an alternative opening. It's up to you which one is better. If you like the original opening better, comment. If you like this opening better, comment. If you read both openings in a bookstore, which one would you take home to read more of?
It's up to you!
Thanks for the 1 million reads!
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Chapter 1
"And this is the ballgown of the late Queen Cyline, who was said to be the most beautiful of all queens in our country's history."
I bet they said that to all the queens, you thought, wrinkling your nose at the poofy layers of red and gold lace on the dress in front of you.
Everyone in the tour group cooed, snapping pictures and taking selfies. You stood behind them with your hands in your pockets.
One of other tourists leaned in towards you. "You know," he said, "I heard an interesting rumor about the late queen..."
"Y/N!" the tour guide called over the crowd, walking towards you with her permanent smile. "What do you think about the dress? Wouldn't you like to wear a dress as lovely as this one?"
You cocked your head to the side, looking at the gown.
That was a lot of lace.
You shook your head. "I have a rule for all the clothes I wear."
"A rule?" the tour guide asked.
"Yes. I don't wear anything I can't roundhouse kick someone in."
The tour guide's smile widened, but it didn't go up to her eyes. "Well then!" she said, turning around quickly. "Let's continue!"
You followed the rest of the group around the castle. It was stunning, to say the least. Roman-style columns held up grand arches reaching three or four stories high, while gold and diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Your footsteps echoed against the marble floor as you walked deeper into the Grand Hall.
"If you look towards the ceiling, you'll see the great history of our dear country," the tour guide said. "Starting with the first sunrise, to the building of the CyrusScraper, which is now the tallest building in the world. It brings in lovely tourists, such as yourselves."
"I came here for the food, actually." another tourist said next to you. "This country is known for its famous fish eye soup. We're actually going to eat it tonight in this very castle with a special guest! I wonder who it is? Can you actually believe it?"
"Fish eye soup, huh?" you replied, your voice going unusually high.
"Did you see the CyrusScraper?" one of the other tourists asked you both.
You nodded. "My major is architecture. My dad bought me a surprise plane ticket to come see it."
"Do they have fish eye soup at the Scraper?"
As they began to speak of fish eye soup again, you looked up at the intricate designs in the ceiling. Your gaze fell on the mezzanine, where a man with dark hair and a white suit was standing.
And he was looking straight at you.
At least, you were pretty sure he was looking at you. To check, you waved.
He smiled and nodded, then turned around and walked into the room behind him.
"Next, let me show you to the gardens," the tour guide said.
You stepped out into the cool Summer day, into fields and rows of roses, gardenias, lillies, and a hundred other flowers that you didn't know the names of. You browsed through the vineyards, looking at the thousands of grape clusters beginning to ripen.
How many years of history were wrapped up in this place? It wasn't the most popular country on the map, but it had its own charm. Your dad talked about it often, as if it was the best place in the world. He talked about his business trips here, showing you pictures of the great lakes, snow covered mountains, and gentle countrysides.
It was weird that he didn't come with you, seeing how much he loved the place.
Emerging from you thoughts, you realized your tour group was gone.
Well, that was annoying.
You sighed, glancing around the vineyards. They couldn't have gone far, right?
You kept walking through the vineyards, until you found an opening. You walked through, to see a man in a navy blue button up and white shorts, reading a book on one of the cherrywood benches.
He didn't notice you.
"Um, excuse me?" you asked. "Did you see the tour group?"
He raised an eyebrow before he raised his head up to look at you. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, that brought a richness to his sweeping black hair and wild eyebrows. He glanced at you once over, adjusted his glasses, then looked back at his book. He turned the page.
"I have not," he replied. "I told them specifically not to come this way."
"Ah, I see. Do you work here?"
His lip pulled up to a smirk, but his eyes stayed on the page. "You could say that."
Not sure how to end the conversation, you just stood there.
He looked up from his page again. His eyebrows matted. Suddenly, he shut his book and leaned forward.
"You." he said, narrowing his eyes. "Have we met before?"
"No," you said.
Trust me, I'd remember that scowl if we had.
He cocked his head to the side. His eyes widened for a moment, then he pulled out his cell phone. He swiped a few times.
He got up from his seat, shoving the phone in your face.
"This. Is this you?"
You looked at the picture. It was you with you father and mother on a trip in Italy last year.
"Yeah, that's me and my parents. But how did you...?"
He dropped his arm, frowning. "It's you, then?" He looked you up and down, pursing his lips. "Ugh. Figures."
He walked away, leaving his book on the bench.
"Wait!" you called after him, quickly grabbing the book. "What figures?"
You went after him, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. Why was this vineyard such a maze? You walked for a little while, wishing you had learned the jerk's name.
You looked down at the book.
"The Picture of Dorian Gray?" you asked yourself. "The philosophical type, eh?"
"Y/N!" the tour guide yelled behind you. "We lost you for a moment! Please, come with me. You're late."
You looked around one last time and shrugged. Oh well. Better to never see him again anyways. You shook your head and put the book in your bag, intending to give it to someone who could return it to him.
The tour guide took you back through the castle and up the staircase.
"Is the dining room upstairs?" you asked. "Aren't we going to dinner?"
"Oh, dinner will be a bit later!" the tour guide said. "We have another stop first. This way, please."
You kept following, down the wide hallways lined with crimson carpet and white tapestries.
Man, this was a lot of walking. This castle was huge.
The tour guide stopped at the last door in the hall and knocked.
"You may enter," a soft male voice said on the other side.
The tour guide turned to you. "Best smile, my dear."
She reached up and pinched your face into a smile. You complied, but dropped it as soon as she turned away.
The door opened to a grand parlor room, with large leather couches and a bar in the back. There was a pool table and a chess table, at which a man in a white suit sat.
The same man who was watching you from the mezzanine earlier.
He turned towards you, giving you a bright smile with his pale lips and dark eyes.
He stood. "You must be Y/N?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, that's me."
The tour guide nudged you. "Be a little more formal, my dear."
You frowned. "Uh... Yes... that is I?"
The tour guide grimaced. The man chuckled.
"This will be more entertaining than I expected." he said, stepping forward, holding out a hand decorated in gold rings. You took it for a handshake, but he brought it up to his lips instead. He gently kissed the back of your hand, then put his other hand on top of yours.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the man said. "I'm King Cyrus."
You drew your hand back. "King?"
He smiled from ear to ear. "Yes. And may I say that it's an honor to finally meet you... Your Highness."