(PLEASE NOTE: NOT EDITED )
Annie
I know I should've knocked. Knocking was always protocol, but this specific wing of the castle had been vacant since I started working here as a maid two months ago. Verilia was a beautifully lush and rich country at the border of Hungary, nestled between Austria and Slovenia, a part of it directly bordering northern Italy. It benefited from both the Mediterranean climate and the cool European harvesting weather and is famous for its grain outports. I never expected to end up here.
And I'm not talking about Verilia.
I never expected that there would be someone behind the door I so foolishly barged in to. Let alone a man. A handsome man, a few years older than my 25 years of age and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. His muscled chest was wet, a single drop of water dripped from his abs and traveled lower...and lower...and lower...and oh my.
I forced myself to look anywhere but there. His dark eyes bore into my soul framed by angled cheekbones, a sculpted nose and a sharp jawline. He was undeniably hot. And I was undeniably embarrassed.
He said something in Verilian but he spoke so fast that I didn't catch any of it. My confusion must have shown on my face because he switched to English. "You're an American." It was a statement, not a question.
I was distracted by his... everything. I felt my face heat up as I took a step back and rambled out an apology. "Oh my god! I am s-so sorry sir! I didn't mean— I mean I meant to—"
He ran a hand through his wet black hair and smirked. I was frozen in place and my mouth snapped shut, not wanting to embarrass myself any further. I was screwed. "Mind if I ask you a question?" His voice was deep and smooth and I was shaking and stuttering. Polar opposites.
"Yes. I-of course sir."
He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to stand there, or can I get changed?"
My blue eyes widened like saucers and my face must be the color of a fire truck because he chuckled. "Yes! Ah! I'm sorry! Oh my god..."
I wheeled my cart around quickly tried to dart out of the room. I turned from him and sighed in relief as I began to walk, more like run, to the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt his wet palm wrap around my upper arm. He spun me around. "I'm going to change in the bathroom. Stay here." His command was punctual, he sounded a little angry.
Oh my god I am so fired.
2 hours earlier...
The Verilian palace was nothing short of a fairytale. The high towers and walls were made of shining white stone and the windows that peppered the building were made of the finest glass that shone when the sun hit it. The castle intimidated me. It made me feel small every time I approached it. I flashed my staff badge at the security guard in the back entrance and smoothed out my uniform. I checked that my blonde hair was perfectly in place in a nearby mirror as he waved me down the hall. I was an American in every sense of the word and my blonde hair and blues eyes looked out of place from the brown haired brown eyed fellow maids and staff and everyone knew it.
I anxiously smoothed the black apron over my thighs once agin and walked down the spectacular hallway, pushing my cleaning cart. My black mary janes touched the clean white carpet as I tried my best to avoid damaging the expensive paintings and artifacts as I began to dust and clean them. The wheel snagged on the carpet a little and I muttered a curse and continued to push it along.
I didn't hate this job, but it wasn't my preference. I missed America and I missed the life I had back home. I never expected to be a maid in the Verilian palace but things don't always go as expected do they? My friend Mari called me up on the phone and offered a job. Her mother was no longer able to keep up with the cleaning duties and needed help. I hadn't seen Mari in ten years, not since she was my parents' exchange student, but I jumped at the idea. I wanted to see the world and my secretary job in America wasn't giving me what I wanted in life.
That was two months ago. The job paid well and I was able to travel to nearby countries as well as spending time with my closest friend so it was a positive experience. I've become close to Mari and now I consider her my best friend. I didn't have many real friends back in New York. My phone buzzed silently in my pocket. I looked around, making sure the coast was clear, before taking it out of my apron and checking it.
Mari: Want to drink? Tonight?
I giggled silently. Mari's English wasn't great, but then again, neither was my Verilian.
Me: Sure. 8? :)
We both got off shift at seven. My phone screen buzzed again with her answer.
Mari: Sure. Happy as an oyster!
She tried. She really did. And I loved her for it. Instead of correcting the misuse of her phrase, I sent a simple smiley face back and out my phone back in the front pocket of my apron. Drinks would be fun. I could take my mind off everything and kick back. I couldn't wait.
I thought back to my home and my parents. I missed them dearly and I was wondering what they were up to. The time zone was different and I was sure they were still asleep. 7 am here was 2am there. My mother was always worried and she was especially wary of my globetrotting. She was always calling to check up on me, making sure I was alright and safe. She freaked out when I told her I was leaving for Verilia alone. She wanted to come with me.
"Oh honey, you can't go by yourself. It's not safe." My mother's honey brown eyes were filled with kindness and worry. "Maybe I can go with you? Or what about your father?"
I shook my head. "No mom. I want to do this. I'm 25. It's time for me to see the world!" I smiled, excitement flowing through my veins. "Besides, you have Max to take care of. He's still in high school. I will be fine."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Ok. Just promise me you'll be safe." She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a warm hug.
"And call. Call all the time. I need to make sure my little girl is ok." My dad sounded sad and I opened my arms, letting him into the hug. I would miss them both dearly but I knew I had to do this.
The next day I was on a plane out of Boston, heading toward Verilia.
I continued to push my cart down the hall until I entered the West Wing. The West Wing was always empty and I took solace in cleaning it. I didn't have to plaster on a fake smile as I cleaned, bowing and curtsying as nobles passed. "Good morning my lord... good afternoon my lady..." blah blah. That was the only thing I hated about my job. I found it exceedingly difficult to remain polite and quiet around people that constantly looked down their noses at me all because I was different. I didn't know if it was because I was a maid or because I was an obvious American but it didn't matter. They always made me feel small and unimportant.
Which, I guess, compared to them I am.
I began to enter and clean the rooms as I went. The West Wing has about five rooms and I started at the front of the hall and cleaned as I went. I dusted the shelves, paintings, chandeliers, and vacuumed the carpets and scrubbed the bathroom floors. This was by far the best part of my job. Peace and quiet, and the rooms and suites were never lived in so they were easy to maintain.
The suites were the epitome of luxury with velvet curtains, plush comforters over the large beds and elegant furnishings and light fixtures. I especially fell in love with the crystal chandeliers. I was mesmerized by the crystals and the way rainbows danced on the carpets when the light hit them just the right way. There was no doubt that the palace was opulent and beautiful and I loved being able to see the intimate parts of it as a maid.
I hummed and quietly sang to myself as I continued to clean. I made my way to the final suite and opened the door.
<><><>
Daniel
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I cursed quietly. I never expected that a maid would have barged into my room, let alone a perky young American. Her blue eyes were so bright and the way that cleaning uniform covered up her tight body, her pert breasts, and her curvy hips made my cock jump to attention. Her long toned legs were barely hidden by that skirt and those thighs.
American thighs.
Fuck.
She was right outside my door. And I couldn't wait to get back to her. I pulled on my discarded white button down shirt as fast as I could and stuffed my erection back into my boxers and then into my slacks.
All while that American consumed my thoughts.
I opened the door with a smirk, expecting her to be standing there in shock and fear just like before, but she was gone. I sighed in disappointment. Damn. I was really hoping that she would still be glued to the floor, her pretty face flushed in red and her bright blue eyes wide in embarrassment. I tried my best to shake her from my thoughts. She ran from me when I specifically told her to wait. And those manners? Didn't someone teach her to knock? This would need to be dealt with. Thoughts of the maid, her round ass over my thighs as I punished her thoroughly filled my brain. Just thinking of her squirming and gasping as my palm came down on her ass made me hard again.
Yes, she would be dealt with. But not right now. That would have to wait. Other pressing matters came to my attention.
My father was announcing his pick for heir and since I was the oldest of my two brothers I figured I was a shoe-in. Apparently, I figured wrong. Due to my past behaviors and scandals, court gossip says daddy dearest is planing on skipping over me and going right to my younger brother Michael. Even though I was the rightful heir. It was bullshit. I hadn't been back home at the palace in ten years, but I came back to fight for my rightful crown. I was in like to be the next king and no one was going to take that from me without a fight.
And oh, I would fight.
I pulled on a pair of socks and dress shoes and left my suite. Apparently no one had stayed in this wing since I left ten years ago. The maid certainly didn't know that. I smirked at the memory. No. I didn't have time for that right now. I would deal with my American later. Now, I needed to confirm the rumors and I needed see my mother.
The queen.
I haven't spoken to her in years, but we were once very close. My father and I didn't always see eye to eye, but I could always count on my mother. My mother, Queen Clarita was just as beautiful as I remembered. Her once brown hair was speckled with grey and her large green eyes were still bright with ferocity. She smiled at me from across the table and thanked a servant when he poured her tea. Her small hands were pale and wrinkly and shook a little as she reached for the porcelain teacup and brought it to her plump lips. "Daniel. I missed you." Her voice was warm and welcoming and I silently cursed myself for staying away from her all these years.
I smiled back. "I missed you too, mother."
She grinned warmly behind her teacup and took a small, polite, sip. She placed it back on the matching saucer with a small clink. "My dear, how have you been? How's Vanessa?"
I clenched my jaw. Vanessa. Stole my reputation. There was once I time when I didn't hate her, but she wanted more than I could give and went to the police saying I beat her. "Don't know. Don't care."
She frowned. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She studied my expression with her emerald eyes, trying to figure out what I was thinking about. Too bad she would never know.
I sighed and forced a smile. Great. Now I was pissed. Vanessa was a touchy subject and my mother knew it. "That's actually why I'm here."
My mother raised a brow. "Really?"
"Yes. I need to ask you if the rumors are true. Do you know what dad's going to do?" If anyone knew, it was my mother. She knew everything about the palace and the nobles of the court. If you needed information, my mother had answers.
Her face softened into one of pity and I had my answer. Damn. So he really was going to give the crown to Michael. Michael was only one year younger than me at 28 and he already had a docile Verilian wife with the personality of a wet paper towel and two beautiful kids. Don't get me wrong, Cassandra was beautiful, with her Verilian brown hair and high cheek bones, but she was...bland. She never spoke her mind and stood next to my brother, an obvious trophy wife. She knew when to shut up and exactly what to say to the cameras or to my father. And because of that, they loved her. "I'm sorry Daniel. It looks like he's passing the crown to Michael."
I clenched my fists and tried to fight off my anger. "May I ask why?"
The look of pity on her face didn't falter and I hated that. "Daniel. He's settled down. He has a wife and kids. I love you, but you've been galavanting around the world while Michael has been right here. Committed."
"Galavanting?" I raised a brow.
"If you want to be king, you need to recalibrate. If this is what you really want, then you're going to have to work for it." She looked me in the eyes. "So Daniel, is this what you really want? Because if it is, you have to change. Maybe find a wife? Have some kids?"
<><><>
Her words stuck with me. I've been groomed to become king every since I was old enough to walk. It was always what my father wanted. What my mom then wanted. I was the heir to the throne of Verilia and they expected me to behave as such, so when I was old enough to leave, I did. I had to go out on my own, find my own way. I've been everywhere, I remember everything and contrary to the opinions of everyone else, I don't regret my actions. I smirked to myself as I remembered a certain mocha skinned beauty from Ibiza who could put both of her legs behind her head. And of course my thoughts roamed to her. The maid.
American Thighs. The solution to all the problems.
I needed to know her name so I continued to walk down the hall until I reached the staff desk. It was on the opposite side of the palace but I didn't mind the walk. I was determined to find out more about my little American anyway. There was an older woman sitting at the desk filling out some sort of paperwork. Her brown hair was pinned up in an intricate bun like American Thigh's was. It must be part of the uniform requirements. She looked up from her papers and nearly jumped out of her seat. "Oh dear! Your Highness. How may I help you?" She was flustered.
"I need to know the name of one of your maids," I snapped annoyedly. I didn't have time for any of this.
"Of course Your Highness! Who do you have in mind?" I was clearly making her uncomfortable.
"She's American. Blonde hair. Blue eyes." She sticks out. Women in Verilia didn't look like she did. She was all American.
"Oh! You're talking about Annie?" She smiled fondly. "What a sweet girl. Pardon me Your Highness, but may I ask what this is about?"
"No. What's her full name?"
"Her name is Annalise Shaw."
Annalise Shaw. Annie. I liked it. My American Annie. "Perfect. Thank you."
The lady smiled again, but this time it was forced. She must not have liked my attitude. But I didn't care. "Anytime Your Highness."
I walked away from the woman and back toward my suite in the West Wing. I opened the door and sat back down on the bed. I turned on the television and it flicked to life showing a young reporter. She was talking about me. About the next king. "Sources say that Prince Daniel will be passed over for the crown. Our independent source says that Prince Michael will inherit the throne. More on this as it develops I'm—" I turned it off and threw the remote against the wall in frustration. Great. Now the news channels had the story. I needed to fix this. I wouldn't lose the crown.
And I knew just how to fix this.
Annie.
She owed me a favor. And I was about to cash in.
I rang the bell and called a servant. He ran to my side. "Yes, Your Highness?"
I grinned. "I want to see Annalise Shaw in here immediately. She's a maid."
The young man nodded. "Of course. Right away Your Highness." He disappeared out the door quickly and left me alone.
I got off my bed and walked into the kitchen area. I poured myself two fingers of scotch and leaned against the counter. Now all I had to do was wait.