After what seemed like hours of speed dating, I found myself back in the dining room standing before 35 men. Ten of them would be leaving. I would be sending ten men away. In a way it was a hard decision, what if I sent home the one based on a poor first impression? But then in a way it wasn't difficult.
My eyes swept over the room making eye contact with Alfie at first, then Michael, Oliver, Wyatt and then Liam. He was the tricky one.
I sworn to eliminate him after I found out how he cheated his way into the selection, was it for love or for power? I studied his expression, his eyes flickered briefly to mine before focusing on any other spot apart from my face. Deep down I knew Liam, we were in love, it was as black and white as that, but why then am I questioning his intentions?
Realising that I was just standing in silence all eyes on me confused at my awkward standing, I cleared my throat, ready to make my decision.
I called out the names of ten men and asked the rest to leave the dining room. The men I chose to remain would be eliminated. Most of the men were inconsequential, I simply didn't click with them or they bored me. One of the men just gave me the creeps, his kiss on my hand lingered for a full minute leaving a trail of salvia on my hand when he pulled away. Another talked to my chest rather than my face, not ideal for the future Prince of Illea.
As my remaining suitors departed I felt a slight whisper by my right ear, it was subtle and easily missable to any eavesdropper, "thank you princess."
I looked behind me, only to see his back. Liam. He was safe.
I am uncertain to what compelled me to allow his progression in the competition, choosing to keep him was as easy as clicking my fingers. Perhaps there was still something there, perhaps I could forgive him for what he had done, alas the action was out of love was it not?
That was a tricky question that would plague my mind for the next few months.
-
"What are you doing here?" I whispered exclaimed pulling Alfie into my room by the scruff of his shirt before anyone saw him on the third floor, where he was clearly not supposed to be.
"Calm down Princess," he chuckled, bemused by my alarm.
"Calm down? You know it's against the rules for you to be up here without permission."
"Without permission, eh?" He smirked, "can I stay Princess?"
"Very well, what is it that you seek?"
"I'm here to ask her royal highness on a date," he smirked falling into a mock bow.
"And I thought I was under the impression that I asked my suitors for a date, not the other way around."
"Is that a yes?"
I hesitated. It was late and he should not have been there. On the other hand, I was still stressed form the long day and I did really like Alfie.
"What did you have in mind?"
-
My laugh echoed the studio horrified at the monstrosity painted across my canvas. Alfie had taken me (with my guidance) to the art studio on the first floor for our date, currently we were sitting across from each other attempting to paint each other onto our canvases. I was failing miserably.
I had a deep passion for art but my usual works were landscapes of mountainous ranges or coastal stretches, not portraiture. Evaluating the work before me I could see that the proportions were horrifically off and the deep browns of his face more ashy than warm.
"I'm sure it's not that bad, your highness," he responded oblivious to the horror scene I had painted.
"Oh I would beg to differ, I told you I am no portraiture artist. How is yours coming along?"
"Finished."
I let out a gasp and bounded to my feet desperate to see what I looked like in his eyes. As I walked round to see his painting I let out a secondary gasp. It was beautiful. My long red waves glowed as they shaped my face, which I am sure was not what they actually looked like at this ungodly hour.
I have had my portrait painted in the past, for obvious reasons, but no painting has ever made me look so radiant as I did in his.
"It is beautiful," I whispered in disbelief.
"Yes, she is."