“– Wake up,”
It felt like I’ve been asleep for a long time and during that time horrible nightmares invaded my sleep and in my dreams, I laid in the darkness paralyzed with hands crawling their way to my body and tugging me limb by limb. Fire was set ablaze, staking my life and making me want to scream in agony but not a sound was made. A pound or so weighed my face down giving me a sudden urge to rub away the load and hands out of nowhere began ripping the strands of red hair until my scalp was hair free.
It was one of those dreams that made no sense but somehow all of this felt so real.
“Wake up miss,” It was the same voice before telling me to wake up from my slumber.
Half conscious, I moaned and turned away from the sound.
Even though I wanted to wake up, my eyelids were heavy as if they were glued together tightly with the same irritating feeling that I felt in my dream continued to upset my face. I wanted to itch it and tear of the thing that was sealing my eyes so badly but my body refused to listen to me.
“Then I guess I have to wake sleeping beauty up myself then,” It was another voice with a small hint of British accent mixed it.
A warm breath hit my face, instantly melting whatever that held my eyes shut. Quickly my eyes popped open just in time before a blurry figure leaned down to kiss my lips. I blinked twice back at him until my senses came back to me all at once.
“Um hello? Do I know you?”
It probably wasn’t the best thing to say to a guy who was going to steal a kiss off you when you were still half asleep but that did the trick. He slipped back down beside me and took off his shades to rake his light brown hair with his fingers. He was dressed in a grey casual suit and peeping out of his chest he had a red paisley patterned scarf tucked underneath.
“Looks like sleeping beauty can manage it herself. That’s a shame, I just wanted to taste her cherry Chapstick” He mumbled loudly to himself deliberately for me hear.
Ignoring the pervy guy beside me, I found myself riding in a washed white car with the smell of new Italian leather. It was so white there was an urge to cause a mess on the white canvas.
In the front seats, the driver in a golden threaded navy uniform and a peak cap that went with it looked straight ahead while the passenger beside him kept glancing back at me in the rear mirror.
To my surprise, my face looked like a clown’s. Thin eyeliner emphasized my medium dark green eyes with smokey eyes making them look far more than ordinary. The curly fuzz was perfectly straightened and a real white daisy wreath mounted on top producing an innocent feel. My face was also caked with foundation, covering up all the blemishes, not that I had many from the start, which was also the reason why I felt uncomfortable since I wasn’t prone to makeup.
The very next thing that caught me off guard was that I realised that I was magically transformed out of my school uniform into something I would never considered wearing, an extremely low, white strapless, silk chiffon high-low dress. It was indeed a beautiful piece of work but was too much for my taste. I always preferred the good old jeans and tank tops which clearly screamed out “normal.”
Suddenly a integrating thought popped into my head. My hands shot up over my chest and stared suspiciously at the man beside me who looked around in his mid-twenties. His eyes met mine as I slowly inched away from him.
“Don’t worry I was there to see it all,” He said it in a way that I couldn’t tell whether or not if he was for real or just messing around.
Shivers ran down my spine. It would be nice if someone told me why I was stuck with this unknown arse and why the heck am I dressed up as if I was ready to be raped. This isn’t right and where are Yume, Nanette and Wilson now? They were with me just then before the ambush and now I’m here dressed to kill and unsure of my bearings.
Then unexpectedly, the man beside the driver cleared his throat and the car suddenly pulled to a stop.
It was difficult to see what was outside. The windows were heavily tinted and were designed to be seen out from the inside out and not from the outside in. And no matter how light the tint was, it was grey outside and the only visible thing seen from inside were lights flickering on, shinning into our eyes.
The man, who coughed at us, flung the door open and hastily gotten out, letting the cold autumn breeze invading the heated vehicle. Then slammed the door shut at us. After a few awkward silences between the driver, the perverted stranger and I, the door beside the him snapped open.
The dark suited man held the door for us. The perverted guy slipped on his sunglasses and slowly stepped outside with his hands in his pocket. He head was tilted up to the sky and took a big breath then letting it go dramatically before he remembered that I was still in the car.
He turned back to me and pushed his glasses back to his forehead. He next lent out his hand offering to be my escort, which caused me to frown. His must be an idiot because there wasn’t much point to put on his glasses at the first place then taking them off again.
I grimaced at the curled palm once more and gathered my sea foam skirts. My elbows shove him and his hand away as I took my first step out and then bring the other foot out. Pressure built up at the sole and balls of my feet. I glanced down at my toes and within the numb burning pain, my kitten heeled Miu Mius were exchanged into a pair of exquisite crystal embellished Jimmy Choo sandals.
It was worse than wearing my school heels, the pain shot up making my knees buckled together, but then a gale of icy wind slapped hard against my body. Soon I forgotten my sore feet and moved on to my freezing body.
“W-where are we and more importantly who are you?” My teeth chattered against each other.
The pervert said something to the body guard and turned back to me with a smile. He moved aside for the guard to close the door and bounded back to front passenger door. He stood there as still as a rock with his hands beside him and stared straight ahead.
“Welcome to La Gioiello Ristorante,” he announced and suddenly his phone went off.
He excused himself, leaving me gawking at a classical early European restaurant, with adorned Brunswick green hoods and canopies over white framed windows.
There were long sculpted planters with seasonal flowers brimmed the edges of the restaurant’s territory, elegant lace umbrellas were put up beside fancy Victorian garden chairs and tables. Moving on to the top level there was a sheltered balcony finishing off with a finely styled cast-iron fencing set upon low white stone wall. On one side of the restaurant it was covered with blood red roses climbing up the walls giving more of a romantic air.
Its nostalgic glamour made the neighboring shops looks dim and unworthy to look at. Other shops on the streets were also based to the same period of the restaurant in dull earthy coloured exterior, small bay windows and large windows with a small trim of a canopy.
Then a blast of unforgiving wind smacked me back to earth, reminding me that I was wearing only a flimsy dress on a cold afternoon. I shivered and rubbed ferociously at both of my arms. My teeth chattered nonstop while cursing the cold and the bastard in front.
Warm in his outfit, he was unaware of my situation. His back was facing forwards for all this time since we had set foot on to the brick road, not even looking at me once. His phone constantly rang one after another, and each time he answered it he would change his tone.
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry but darling, I’ll return as soon as possible – Yes, Yes, I know – I love you too,” he sounded flustered as he ended the phone call.
His words were somehow cheesy and most of the calls, he used the same flattery speech which made my body feel even colder than it was. With the results of hearing so many different girl names and repetitive smooth talking, I decided to nail him not only a pervert and a player, a woman’s worse enemy.
“So, princess I guess we should get you going,” he finally remembered my existence.
He placed one hand above his waist, forming a D shape. I stared at him wondering what on earth he wanted from me then suddenly, he grabbed on to my arm and placed it onto his arm. I tried taking it back but he grasped onto it tighter keeping my arm looped over his.
“I’m your escort, now hush. Girls should just smile and look pretty,” He was getting impatient with me.
Another frown creased over my forehead. How could he look down on women? It’s the twenty-first century and females have just as much rights as males. Well, that’s where I grew up and maybe he didn’t grow up in an environment like that but that still doesn’t give him the right to look down on girls especially me.
“You still haven’t told me who you are but Fine,” I grumbled under my breath and gave him one good stomp with my dagger shoes.
Instantly, he jumped at my attack but soon recovered with only trails of tiny tears exposing from the corner of his eyes betraying, unable to cover his pain with his act.
“Ah, there’s some dust in my eyes,” he lied.
I chuckled under my breath and followed him to the virtuous stained glass doors. Two doormen stood both sides and each wore a fur trim overcoat to protect them from the cold. Just looking at them made me feel jealous and wanted swipe it off them.
We were at the door, when suddenly a ringtone that I heard so many times echoed through the night of the dead. Quickly, I used it as a chance and yanked back my arm. The pervert-player excused himself one more and went fishing for his phone. I watched him while trying to keep myself warm and from the tiny slit from the doors, I could feel the warm air leaking out.
“Annie, babe, what’s wrong? Isn’t it late back there?” He was back to his player mode.
I rolled my eyes and stared away.
“Give me a second Annie – Wait no! Don’t do that! Please, just give me a second – I know, I know. I miss you too,”
He cupped his hand over the speaker and hissed at me.
“What?” I snapped back.
“Darling, who was that?” I overheard the call.
“Just go in before me” he did a shooing motion.
Joy has finally found me. I gave myself one last puff into my pale bluish hands and rubbed them together before charging into refuge. I was scared that he was going to make me stand in the cold for another ten minutes or so while him trying to talk his way out of his clingy girlfriends.
Heat embraced me with mercy and erased the coldness that had few seconds ago. When my body stopped shivering and gradually relaxed, a dazzling hostess in a tight pencil skirt and cute short sleeved blazer came up to me flashing her blinding whites.
“Buona sera mia signora, you must be Miss Moreau. Please come this way” She elegantly waved her arm to show the way and bobbed slightly.
“Si, bouna sera to you too.” I was glad to remember some of my sloppy Italian as well as my French.
The hostess led me through a narrow waiting area, passing the reception then into the main part of the restaurant. My eyes gleamed at the fancy setting. Although the lights were dim, everything glowed in a surge of gold and silver, deep red roses were set in tall crystal vases on golden leaf motif column stands, but strangely, the restaurant was as quiet as outside with no one dinning.
“Good evening,”
I stopped in my tracks, stomach squirmed severely and blood froze. Slowly, my head turned forward as my heart pumped rapidly with adrenaline. Right at the end of the hall, behind a neatly laid table, stood a high collared waiter with a napkin rested on his left arm, bowed as low as he could.
That moment my heart skipped a beat, his chocolaty flipped back away from his eyes into a mocking comb back conceded a pair of a familiar brown eyes rimmed with ebony full rim glasses.
“Hello,” this time his voice was full of emptiness.
“Nicholas Windsor, why are you dressed up like that?” I asked.
“Just sit,” he commanded, scrapping the chair out from under the table.
A yelp escaped from my throat, as he gripped on to my shoulders and half guided, half pushed me into the seat. With a rough flick of his napkin, he threw it onto my lap and then gone to the kitchen. He then returned with a silver ornate dome covered dish balanced on the tip of his fingers, a sharp tardy gaze grew on his face.
Somehow my heart hammered against my ribs, sending ripples of pain. Inside my body was on fire and was almost impossible to breath. I wasn’t sure, if it was the heating or running a fever after standing outside for so long but all I know that something wasn’t right and I feel a little drowsy. I propped my elbows on the table and eyes closed while massaging my head, trying to ease the pain but not effectively.
Then with a clank, my heart beat my chest again and jolted out of my seat. In front of me was the suspicious dish hiding under the cover and Nicholas Windsor’s glaze grew into an ugly scowl. He stood there with his body all tensed up, one hand behind his back, another holding the lid.
My hand was midway of reaching for his to calm him down, when suddenly he whipped the cover off revealing the most grisly dish I ever seen. My stomach flipped several times, a foul taste of bile rose in my throat ready to be spilled over the clean blue carpet. Uninviting brown shells sat on the plate with green stuff pasted on top waiting to be eaten.
A hand flew over my mouth as I tried to stop myself from gagging and pushed the dish away. There was no way I was going to eat snails, they are so slimy, teeny eyes on tentacles and they don’t even look cute. At least pigs look more adorable compare to these uncanny creatures even though I’m not fully fond of eating meat.
“Eat,” Nicholas Windsor growled.
“Tsk, Tsk. That is no way to treat your customer like that, brother,” A daunting voice circulated from behind the black and clear beaded curtains hung on the far corner to my left.
The hostess from before stood beside the curtains and turned around slowly gathering the beads to the side. Her tight bun bound up and down as she stalked her way through. After her work was done, the shadow on the lounge beckoned her to come. Eyes were glazed over in drugged ecstasy and lust as she floated her master.
Worried for the woman’s health, I charged forward to bring her back to reality but she was no longer within my reach. To my surprise, my hand fell to my side as my eyes burned with disgust. My pervert, no that sounds wrong…The pervert-player sat laid back, a red wine swished around and around, his legs were wide open, two women claimed one each and snuggled into his chest. Two more women in low top cuts leaned over the semi-circular black and red sofa. One of the ladies was feeding him cherries and the other played with his hair, but what disturbed me the most was that their watermelons was so close to his face it looked like he was about to be squashed.
“What the hell is this?” I turned to Nicholas Windsor.
He didn’t answer me nor made any gestures. He was stoned and looked like as if he was trying to fight of some mental distress. I could see his teeth clenched together tight and his hands curled into a tight fists beside him.
“Tell her,” the pervert-player said. “You know you want to brother,”
“Who’s your brother?” Nicholas Windsor finally lashed out. “I don’t need a useless brother who can only enjoy sex and pleasures. No one needs a king like you,”
“You dare to speak to the Prince like this?” the woman who was feeding the pervert snapped.
“Hush, my flower, he was a prince too before he disappeared from my crowing,” He reached out his free hand and brushed the woman’s check.
“King? Prince? What prince?” I turned again to Nicholas Windsor who was near his breaking point.
“Yes, just torture that guy a little bit more. He hates the royalty. Isn’t it right Prince Nicholas, the shadow prince,” the pervert sneered.
Annoyed, I stomped over the pervert and snatched the wine off his hand and in less than a second I chuck the remaining liquid into his face. How dare these two make me go around and around in circles? Siblings or not, they’re both jerks, but this one in front of me peeved me the most.
“Shut up you!”
The women shrieked and swear in horror. They all snatched their bags and flee to the restroom. The hostess was untainted with the wine fell on her knees cleaning after the mess. The pervert shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, gently dabbing his soaked face.
All of the sudden, the shimmering embroidery of the handkerchief, caught my attention. Sense of familiarity washed over me. The curly bold letters stood out to me, but prompted nothing to my mind. Then I finally recalled of a similar handkerchief hidden underneath the heap of mess in my duffel bag, a piece of favour waiting to be returned.
“You’re the guy who helped me at the Summer Fete!” I blurted.
“Oh did I now?”
He finished wiping his forehead and dropped it onto the floor. He stopped slouching and leaned forward, his elbows propped onto to his knees, head rested on his laced fingers. A smirk crept on to his face and at that moment he and Nicholas Windsor resembled each other with the same provoking smile.
“LW…Luke Windsor, Prince of England. Prince Nicholas, Duke of Manchester…” I said with disbelief.
Right now, the man that I splashed wine all over him was a prince and the other dressed in a lowly waiter was the prince’s younger brother. I’ve often heard of the princes before and seen them a couple of times in the media, especially Prince Luke, the next heir, but I’ve never paid much attention to the royal affairs. When I was younger, my friends would often ask each other who they would choose between Prince Luke or Prince Nicholas until they’ve switched to Alex Pettyfer and Chris Hemsworth at the end of primary. I didn’t even know who Prince Luke and Prince Nicholas were until recently.
“God, you’re slow,” Luke rolled his eyes abruptly. “But I like you,”
I was about to say something when on a spur of moment, Nicholas Windsor whipped out something metallic and twisted sharply to my direction. My body froze as a knife flashed past me. Strands of red head drifted onto the floor. My eyes widen with shock as I stared at my freshly cut hair and to Nicholas Windsor’s deadly glare.
On the next moment, he charged ahead towards my direction. His shoulder bashed into mine causing to stumble back in my high heeled sandals and grabbed the closest thing in progress to stop myself tumbling over. My eyes pined on to the back of his head as he took of his glasses and dug his fingers into his hair, raffling his combed back hair.
In the corner of my eyes, instead of being surprised, Luke was rather enjoying himself and immediately I hated myself of thinking him as a good guy before. If the that night, I could see his face properly and listen to every word he said, I would’ve be able to read him like an open book, to be able to see through his act.
More importantly, a hole was punched into my chest and something inside of me clinked together. A strange feeling of hurt and betrayal diffused through my body like a virus. My fingers clawed into the pure white tablecloth and tore it off the table. Unlit candles and single rose vase settled onto the floor, glass splinters glimmered under the bleary light.
Idiot. I’m such an Idiot. How could I not know that he was a prince? And in this situation he just had to unfold his true identity by lashing his anger at me. He makes me feel so confused; at first he’s all cocky but in some way, it makes my heart feel uneasy and when he tried to harm me with his knife my heart froze.
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Sorry long time no update and I'm also apologize if this isn't the best chapter or book you've ever read. *bows* x1000