It was a wet day on the island of Corsica. The courtyard was filled with paddles and rain stopped and poured every now and then. What makes things worse was that for all the days of the week, the school had to choose this day to change the carpets in the south wing. The south wing was basically the front part of the school and people usually uses the stairs there to go through to the other parts of the school. Now that the commonly used staircases were blocked we were forced to use the other entrances of the other wings to get into the building.
Stefan and Lucie stalked behind me as they took turns holding up an umbrella to shelter me from the drizzling rain. I walked faster, not wanting to be treated as a princess or a proper lady like everyone else around me.
Then suddenly the soles of my Miu Miu lost grip and fell forward, my duffel bag flew out of my hand.
“Miss Moreau!” my loyal servants and companions screamed out for me.
It was too late. I was on the slimy pavement with my stockings torn; dirt caked over the front part of my uniform and last of all a sprained left wrist. It throbbed and began to swell very badly. I had use it to stop my face from getting it smashed and to receive a unattractive make-over which worth the pain.
“Sorry, I only managed to catch your bag and not you,”
I looked up to see where the voice was coming from. A devilish grinned at me.
“Nicholas Windsor?” it almost sounded like an exclamation mark.
“Yup, that’s my name and don’t wear out,” he sang.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I barked at him.
People around me stopped and stared, not at me but Nicholas Windsor. He was wearing the Corsica boys’ uniform, the vest, the school blazer and all. He was immune to their stares, like I remembered how he completely ignored the girls fawning all over him at the bus stop one time so that’s where the rumor about him having no interests in women have started.
More people gathered around and gasped at his sudden appearance. Nicholas Windsor quickly shoved out of his blazer and threw it at me. I gaped at him for a few seconds then realized what he was getting at. The front of my shirt was transparent, all thanks to the paddle I happened to fall straight in.
“Oh my! Is that Nicholas? I cannot believe he is back!” squealed some girls.
“I see…So that is how it is. He must have been bored of the normal life that he had foolishly left the school,” some boys grunted.
What the – So who is he and why is he back now if he was no longer a student here? I mean I see how he wanted to have a normal life because of the insanity of how things work as a rich person. It did quite make sense why he was in Hamilton at the first place because Hamilton High is a school only for elites, not only you have to be loaded to attend the school, you would also have to past their entrance exams, then after high school you can apply for a direct admission to their university department with ease.
Before I was given the chance to question Nicholas Windsor myself, he had slung my bag over one shoulder and lifted me off the ground and out of all the other ways of making me get up he had to us the humiliating princess lift. I kicked and flailed to be let go but he continued to carry me like this for the next five minutes.
Girls who knew him hissed and glared at me as we walked past. When we finally came to the infirmary, he settled me down on a spare bed. I was glad to be free from his clasp and shuddered at his touch. A nurse came running in to see what’s wrong. Nicholas gave her a quick report and immediately, the nurse came back with some bandages.
Once she was gone, millions of questions were waiting to be let out of the bag.
“What the hell are you doing here and who are you?” I demanded.
“There’s nothing for you to know for now. Just get yourself rested, Princess Sophie Harrison,” He smirked, then causally walk out of the room.
“JERK!” I called after him and threw his blazer back at him.
The blazer missed him and he didn’t bother to pick it up. He was gone and I was left alone curled up in a tight ball. My blood ran cold as the sound of my true name still ringing through my ears. My cover was blown. If one person knew my true identity, it would soon spread like a virus. Everything was now up to me to demolish the bug. But how?
I ended up skipping all my classes. I was worried that once I walk out of the room people will start looking at me differently and would create an international issue that would affect both the crown princess and Genovia . Then what will happen next? Will the crown prince break the contract and take my parents’ business? Mum and dad already lost the company once and if they did again I really hope pop and gran would be okay if we did.
A heavy sigh escaped from my mouth as I spaced out the skylight. The dark grey clouds began to shift away letting the sunshine make its way through the cracks. Jewel black ravens soared up the sky and a plane moaned by then disappeared into the bruised clouds.
There was a soft knock on the door. I turned away from the window and looked over to the opposite side pretended to be asleep.
“Miss Moreau?” It was Stefan coming to get me home.
Shifting over to the other side, I had accidently placed more pressure on to my injured arm. The pain shot up causing me to bolt up and gently pressed it close to my heart. In result, a throbbing pain hammered both side of my temples. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to get hold of myself.
Lucie and Stefan dashed to my side and helped me go back to bed.
“I’m fine,” I reassured. “It’s just my wrist nothing bad,”
They eyed on me to see I was telling the truth, but with their expression, I could tell they didn’t buy it, however they dare not to argue against me.
The reason why I looked pained and weary wasn’t caused by the pain in my hand but the doubts shaking inside me, which I can’t bring myself to discuss with them, they knew nothing about my identity. The crown prince and Mr Chevalier agreed that only they, the lawyer, Amelie and princess should know. The other workers in the household weren’t required to know because they weren’t that close with the real princess and slight changes wouldn’t make any differences. Well that was what Mr Chealier had said from himself.
“Miss, Lady Ichijo was looking for you the whole day, but we didn’t tell her where you were just in case you didn’t want any visitors,” Lucie reported.
“Okay, thank you. I will call her later,”
By the time I left the infirmary, the paddles in the courtyard reduced its size and the ground seemed less threatening as it was before. Tiny dewdrops on the greenery nearby glittered like diamonds under the mild sunlight and suddenly a chill picked up throwing the water at my direction. The once dried uniform was drenched all over again from top to toe, a frown already chiseled on my forehead.
The wind continued to blow. I wished I had my blazer on today when Lucie offered me the crispy clean blazer that’s still in the garment bag untouched. Then I remembered the heavy blazer cloaked over my injured arm. My frown deepened at the look of it but if had to choose between my prides or get frozen to death. I ended up choosing to wear it.
Now all warmed up in a baggy blazer that covered down to my thighs and excess space over my hands, I began to stop shivering. Nicholas Windsor was sure tall and broad, just features that I don’t usually notice in guys. Literally, I never had a thing for guys and they are just too difficult to understand. With that thought I think I’m acting like a primary school kid but if it’s true then there’s no problem admitting it.
Suddenly I remembered that Yume was looking for me and today was a day that I had to go to my activities. However I didn’t have the mood to go and there would be no one to pick me up till six which is still hours away. I also didn’t felt like disrupting Lucie and Stefan’s break time at the City Square not that they didn’t have a long relief while I was at school, it just that I want to be left alone for another couple of hours.
My buzzed in my hands, it was Yume. I waited for a few seconds before answering it. It was just some crazy habit I picked up long time again or maybe I just like the feeling of making people to wait.
“Why don’t you pick up instantly?” Yume gave me no time to respond. “When I heard you got your wrist hurt I was really worried! I want to see you and are you coming to the club?”
I had to pull my phone away from my ears to protect them from exploding. I wonder how many times have I done this since I’ve met her. Let me guess a lot but I can’t possibly comprehend her over-excited and cheerfulness because somehow behind it all it sounded so fake as if she was trying to forget something painful.
“Whoa, why do you sound like my boyfriend – ”
“So who’s your boyfriend?” a voice interjected my conversation.
The cause of my despair reappeared to torture me even more. He loomed over me with his arm pressed against the ancient pillar beside me. A toothy grin spread across the face giving me the urge to wipe it off.
Quickly, I cupped my hand over the mouth piece and Yume was questing for me at the other end but I decided to ignore it.
“What do you want?” I hissed.
Nicholas Windsor’s grinned broke into a smile as he glanced at the blazer that I was wearing. My faced flamed with embarrassment and turned away him. Instead it triggered him to lean closer, his peppermint breath tickled the back of my neck causing shivers running down my spine.
“Nothing,” he purred into my ear. “I just want to take this lovely lady for date.”
I let out a yelp and jumped out of the way. His smile turned back to his devilish grin and Yume was still yelling at the other end of the phone.
“So-chan!? Are you alright there?!”
“Yes, Yes I’m fine. It’s just that I...Just saw a squirrel running up a tree,” I quickly made something up.
“A squirrel?” Yume didn’t sound promising.
“Yes! A squirrel. By the way I am not going to club today. I don’t feel quite well,” I said which was slightly true.
Before Yume could even question me anymore, I quickly hang up on her and turned sharply to Nicholas Windsor, the frown got deeper and deeper until it couldn’t get any further. He was still leaning against the wall, one of his eye brows rose and was bewildered by the conversation that I just had.
“What?” I snapped.
He shifted himself in a lot more comfortable position where he loomed over me with his towering height. He was at least three heads taller than me and when I look at him I have to crane my head up to look directly at him. The biceps almost visible through his vest and shirt was the last thing I need to see. You may call me tasteless but I always tend to be anti-generic to things that people prefer the most and deliberately like the things that are like the least. To act like more of my age, I got to say I prefer guys behind glasses and nerdy boys mean money and able to meet my intelligence.
“Gosh, that is so un-lady like,” he pulled a face, trying to mock Munch’s painting of The Scream.
I slapped him on the forearm in result and he pretended to flinch to be agonized in pain. I placed my hands on my hips and gave him the “You seriously gotta be kidding” face.
He stopped acting and smiled again. “So have you been to the City Square before?”
I shook my head in response.
“Well then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
Nicholas Windsor towed me by the undamaged wrist until we reached the front of the school buildings and I wrestled myself free.
“So what now, get a car and drive us there?”
“Great idea, but it seems like I left my baby back at Hamilton,” he did a thinking motion with the tap of a finger on his chin then got serious again. “Have you heard of taking a train?”
It took me few seconds to get what he meant. The port was reasonably quiet, no planes, helicopters or jets disrupted the peacefulness as for it was the time when most of the school’s population would be at their club activities and many of them stayed near the City Square. Right before the port not fair from the front of the school, train tracks that I tread over nearly fifty times was lined perfectly parallel to and around the front of the school. Not fair to the west side stood a low platform with full length glass windows to protect against the weather.
Nicholas Windsor swaggered ahead of me; his hands hooked in the side pockets of his trousers, his carefreeness make me stalk after him speechless. The outline of his back threw me a strong sense of familiarly but couldn’t be sure of it, besides a lot of people are tall, broad and slender at the same time.
We reached the platform and neither of us spoke a word. I was more than fine for not speaking at all and let the silence go on forever. It was just like living back in the days in Hamilton, where people thought I was invisible while waiting at the bus stop at the front of the school and that time I didn’t want to mix in with them because most of their attitudes were snotty or arrogant.
The hooting of the train whistled in a short distance, and then slowly pulled in front of us. The train was technically a cross between a tram and a train. It had only two carriages connected together so you can go through each end without any troubles and the head of the train shaped like a tram’s. It was more like a light rail.
There was another hoot slicing the silence. The train was about to pull off and I stopped gawking at it and tried to climb up the huge steps but my wristed burned when it touched the steel corrugated floor. Then a strong large hand pulled me up onto the train. I cursed at the high steps and whirled my head forward where Nicholas Windsor’s face was inches away from mine. Immediately, my heart pounded heavily, I gasped and tugged my wrist forcefully back.
It can’t be! It can’t be! I repeated over and over again, my head was in the edge of eruption. His eyes…It was just like the ones I saw at the ball, the soft lukewarm eyes that trapped my glaze, how come I didn’t notice earlier when he suddenly appeared at Corsica and what the heck is that abundant feeling that’s diffusing inside of me? I sneaked at glance at him, he was already seated with one leg crossed on top of another, an arm rested on the window seal, and his eyes stared out of the window lazily.
I flopped onto the opposite seat to him and flattened my curly hair. Besides us the train was empty and the interior felt more “human”, no lush furniture or expensive materials covered the seats, it was just the good old one-hundred percent polyester yarn, something that’s more me.
“I was wondering when you were ever going to snap out of it,” Nicholas Windsor remarked. “You’ve been doing it more than once already. You should go to a therapist about it,”
“You’re the one who should go see a therapist!” I shot back feeling insulted by his comment.
He shrugged and pulled out his Ralp Lauren wallet. I watched him as he then wiggled a white card out and toy it between his fingers. I caught a small glimpse at it; it was a Corsica Private Secondary College student ID card.
The train suddenly pulled in a halt. I was thrown to the side and luckily it was the elbow I landed with instead of the left hand.
“It would be better if you have your ID card out with you,” he advised.
He was speaking in riddles again but I couldn’t care less in questioning him why and just did what I was told. So I dug through my duffle looking for a certain long wallet, searching at every corner of the bag till I managed to find it. Once I zipped back my gigantic bag, I grumbled at the fact that it was too big and it took forever to look for something.
Satisfied about able to find my wallet, I sat up straight trying to peer outside the window and twisted around to see where we are. Outside both sides of the windows, we were at a massive automatic gate that slides to the side but before that there were little white shanties that looked like some kind of large toll booths at both sides of the gates.
The gates were closed and we waited a few minutes when someone in blue uniform walked out of the shanty that was over our side. The train driver cracked the door open for the uniformed man to get in. He had a walkie-talkie clipped over his left shoulder and in his hand he had a machine that resembled like a scanning device.
“Good evening, if you don’t know I’m here to check your IDs which give you the permission to trespass the grounds of North Corsica. If you don’t have your ID, I would hope that you have your passport with you and you will need to sign some papers for the government, otherwise we will charge you as illegal arrival,” he said in a drawling tone.
The security check was swift and easy for Nicholas Windsor but in my case it was a lot different story. The student card that I held was invalid and I knew that before I handed it to the officer. It wasn’t my true name nor is the birthdate printed on the card and it definitely wouldn’t match up my details if it was to be looked up in the system that’s connected around the world. So I gave up my fake student card without showing it to him and shoved it back into its place into the wallet. I began searching for my passport that I always carried around with me just in case.
When I finally found the Lesportsac UK printed cosmetic bag, I thumbed with the lock and dragged out the tiny passport. I handed it to him as he examined me and then the tiny photo in the passport. He then kindly asked me to come with him to the shanty where he needed the fingerprints of my index fingers taken and asked me to sign an arrival form. Once it was all done he said I was free to go but would have to sign the form again a month later if I wanted to continue landing in North Corsica.
The rain started all over again, when I headed back to the train. I quickly dried my forehead with my sleeves and suddenly I realized it was Nicholas Windsor’s blazer that I was using. Almost instantly I tried to wipe away the germs away from my head and then furiously wiped it away on my skirt. ARK! I don’t even know why I’m still wearing that moron’s blazer but now I’m remembered, I’m freezing.
I sneaked a look across the other side; Nicholas Windsor seemed to be fallen asleep while I was away with my legal documents. He back was slightly slouched and his wispy brown hair fell over his eyes as his chin drooped to his chest.
Then suddenly the train made an unpleasant launch off which caused Nicholas Windsor to jolt awake. The ID card in his hand slipped out his fingers and onto the corrugated aluminum floor. He stretched out his arms and did a little yawn then winced twice at me.
That moment I though he was cute, in a teddy bear cute sort of way then it slipped out of mind as my eyes focused onto the card on the floor. Before he could even lean down to get it, I quickly whipped it out of his grasp and pondered over his details. A pair of bored hazel eyes burned the headshot with his unfazed glaze and right beneath the portrait the word terminale was printed in bold letters. My eyes quickly darted from his name to his birthday. He was one year older than me.
“Hey, you’re nineteen. Aren’t you too old for terminale?” I asked.
“You are seriously new to the school,” he chuckled softly. “In Corsica, there are only three statuses seconde, première and last but not least terminale. You know how Hamilton there is year seven to year twelve?”
He stopped to give me more time to analyse what he just said and continued again when I gave him a nod.
“Well in Corisca, instead of six year levels there are only three and you will be in the same status twice until you are at a certain stage to move on,” He paused. “I’m a terminale because I started late. Now you understand?”
“Uh yeah but – ” I was cut off by the loud whistle from the train.
The train had pulled to a stop outside a flashy looking station. A chrome and white shelter curved over the railways and the platform like a tidal wave. It was massive, too big for a tiny light train with only two carriages. Signs said East Corsica in bright blue was drilled on the wall indicating which station the train had just stopped. There were also safety doors to prevent passengers from falling over the platform and once the safety doors were released, the train doors opened at the same time. At first there weren’t many people boarded the train but when the shuttle arrived nearby behind the barb wire fencing more came in, some with luggage which took up more space than a person.
To avoid being squished by some random strangers beside me, Nicholas Windsor yanked me over to a spare corner seat near the automatic door and sat beside me. I glowered at him when he sat to close, demanding for more personal space. He chortled and backed away leaving me a six inches gap between us.
Beside him was a woman in her early thirties, she was charmed by Nicholas Windsor’s appearance and was trying to hit him. Nicholas Windsor had his defense up, a defense I remember seeing him use back in Hamilton when all the gutsy women tried to flirt with him but he never battered an eye and now that has reminded me, today was actually the first time he spoke to me but nothing came out of his mouth was good.
Able to sense my gloom over my head, Nicholas Windsor caught my glare and gave me a smile. The woman beside him went berserk, her hair flared up and each end a snake hissed at me. She was obviously jealous of how I gotten his attention without needing to do anything. My clouds darkened as expected Nicholas Windsor was only doing this to mess with me. So for the rest of the trip, I concentrated only outside the window where civilization gotten bigger and modernized.
The next stop was Centro Corsica, a stop where many people got off to visit the main part of North Corsica and it was also known as the City Square. Watching Nicholas Windsor get up from his seat, I stalked after him and quickly leaped off the large steps before the door shuts into my face. When my feet touched the grey platform, I whirled around to get a better view of the station. It was a delicate tunnel with dusty glass set onto the surface allowing some sunshine in with steel rods supported the whole weight and shape. Giant bell shaped lights dangled from the ceiling which was a lot more effective than the dim sunshine given. The whole station was far more than ordinary but couldn’t really say it was impressive.
Instead of roaming in the City Square that I expected, I wounded up standing outside at one of the private apartments in the north-eastern highlands of Corsica. It was a half an hour walk from the station to the private areas but the problem wasn’t in the half an hour walk, the problem came from the fact that we had to hike up hills till we reached the final destination.
“I swear I will kill you some day,” I muttered under my uneven breath, still trying to catch it back again.
“I’ll like to see that sometimes,” he threw me a smug look.
Without saying anymore, he ignored the intercom beside the three metres high black gate and went for the proximity card reader above it. He pulled out a card from his pocket, then swiped the card and punched so fast on the digit board it made it hard for me to remember which numbers he used. A green light flashed on and suddenly the latch clicked opened.
“After you my lady,” Nicholas Windsor held out the door for me and did a small quirky bow.
“Uh…Why thank you?” I slipped through the door before he could pull another stunt.
He then led me to straight into the building where a smartly dressed man sat behind a long desk and across it was rows of mail boxes. The guard instantly stood up and gave us a warm welcome then watched up go off to the lefts. There were three lifts; the first one on the right only goes up to fifteen floor, while the one on the right began at the sixteenth floor to the twenty-ninth floor and then there was the last lift stood in front of us, it clearly didn’t say which level it goes up to but only showing unlit arrows directing descending or ascending.
I had no idea which one we were going to take but there was a mixture of fear and excitement when Nicholas pulled out his key card again to verify the reader beside the life that had no listings of which level it goes up to. The doors slowly dragged open and closed when Nicholas Windsor punched the close button.
We stood in silence which seemed to be the right thing to do, because whenever he speaks he tend to pick up a fight. After minute or so passed I couldn’t help to ask.
“Why and where the heck are you planning to take me,”
He pressed a finger to my lip to silence me but I pulled away at once and wiped it clean with the back of my hand. I grumbled to myself wishing that I thought of bringing some sanitizer but it was usually Lucie’s job of carrying these things. Some people these days just don’t understand the meaning of “keep your hands to yourself” or “personal space”, It would’ve been better men these days were as courteous and gentleman in the last few centuries.
Meanwhile I was engrossed with my thoughts when suddenly the elevator doors slid open which caused me to leap back in surprise. Sublime evening light glared fiercely though the doors, lighting the dim elevator up. My hand shot up shielding away from the magnificent light. No matter how much I tried to block the sun, it burned my sight.
My heels sank several centimetres into the plush caramel carpet as I stepped out of the elevator. I looked around with my hands shading the light away and everything was hazy until my eyes finally adjusted to the light. A bombshell landed on to me, through the small hallway it led us to a spacious lounge and with huge floor to ceiling windows beyond that was a sundeck. On that deck there was an open air spa, a timber gazebo build overhead making it suitable to use throughout the year. Comfy cushioned sun decks were also placed outside facing the red orange tinted sky and in between the sun decks a hexagonal glass table supported a large white beach umbrella. Pot plants in cream color decorated the walk.
The lounge was a different story. It was shocking in a bad way unlike the beautiful resort themed deck. There was hardly anything in the lounge just a long black sofa, a polished art deco coffee table, a wide flat wall mounted screen and a home theater system set up above the sofa. Despite the lack of furniture, the total cost of the lounge exceeded the deck.
“No way!” I shouted curtly. “As if you live in a penthouse but with the lack of furnishing you decided to make it feel more like a crummy flat,”
Nicholas Windsor strode to the edge of the sofa and flopped on to it. His head laid back onto his arms with his long legs crossed over each other, his frivolous attitude intimidated me. I marched to him and swatted his shiny loafers off the arm rest then tugged one of the sleeves of the blazer and wiped the infected area. Next I threw my duffle bag onto the floor and slumped next to him.
“Now tell me why you are here,” I demanded without looking at his face.
In the corner of my eyes, I could see him staring at me slightly amused causing the rage bubble even more.
“Tell me already for god’s sake!” This time I shot up and stampede my feet like a little child.
“Fine,” it was so low, I almost didn’t hear it.
“What?” I turned around to make sure I didn’t hear it wrong.
“I said Fine,” he repeated but when he caught a small smile of victory he continued. "Only in exchange for a favor,”
“What favour?” I snapped, too eager to know what it is so I could get it over and done with.
“Go on a date with me.”