"It is time for dinner now, Your Highness," A butler speaks from the opposite side of the wooden door. His voice was timid, or at least much more than when he was speaking to other palace staff - especially you. You knew this butler to be the head of the East Wing in this place and to go by the name of Richard, and despite barely even being here for a day you could already tell how demanding he was despite his position.
"Am I eating dinner with the Agnes family?" Bastiaan questions from inside the guest quarters that he was now remaining in, sat at the small desk and drumming his fingers at a sweet tempo.
"I'm afraid not, they dearly apologise for not being able to have dinner with you. The reason to their absence is the fact they have some private manners to discuss and so, will be having dinner fairly late into the evening. They don't wish to make their guest wait, especially since you skipped out on lunch," The butler responds, trying his best to keep his voice at a good enough volume to be heard.
"It was for a good reason," Bastiaan points out, his fingers halting on the wooden table as his dark gaze wandered over to the large window view he had been provided with. The sky was nearly as dark as his own orbs, as night was slowly taking over the kingdom of Trodour.
"Pardon me Prince Bastiaan, but I can't help but wonder why you seem to have quite the attachment to that handmaiden? I would have thought that spending time with Princess Agnes during lunch would have been your priority rather than waltzing into the maid quarters to ensure your handmaiden was being fed well," Richard questions, his curiosity getting the better of him and overpowering the intimidation he felt for Bastiaan.
"It is none of your business. It is only because I decided to only bring my handmaiden with me, rather than an army of butlers and maids or what not from Ophnosleanade. After all, they always cause such a fuss," Bastiaan replies, his voice growing to express he was slightly irritated at this point.
"If you wish, the palace staff here could fulfill all their duties. After all, Princess Odile insisted that we look after you during your stay here," The butler responds, his voice now growing quieter just by the slight change in tone he had heard from the prince.
"There is no need for that. I will have my handmaiden fulfilling all their duties," Bastiaan insists,
"How is that possible? That's quite a lot of-"
"It is nothing for you to worry yourself over. I want you to bring my handmaiden here, along with our dinner. I will be having dinner in private with her," Bastiaan demands, one leg now folding over the other as he sat on the leather chair, his ever unamused expression on his face.
The butler sighs, knowing it no use to argue with the stubborn prince. It seemed that there was no way he would listen to anybody except himself or his father. "Very well then," Richard replies before scurrying away as usual to inform the servants of where to take the dinner before making his way to summon you to Bastiaan's private quarters.
The middle-aged butler makes his way down the long corridor once again, the maids now less in number due to it being evening, yet still standing out of his way to let him through. After all, he could fire them at any time he wished to.
Richard now walks with a confident stride in his stature, only to stop as though he was a man of notable cause, dressed in the gazes of the maids that were inclined to notice his more high-ranking presence. He stands there for a moment, enjoying the attention of the young women, as this was the only way for a middle-aged man such as himself to even get women to give his presence a second thought.
Finally, his wrinkly and pale fingers form a weakly clenched fist before he proceeds to knock upon your door. You jump, surprised that somebody was interrupting your leisure time. Especially since it seemed as though you were a ghost to everybody except Bastiaan in his palace. Making your way over to the door, you mess with the keys in your hands before unlocking it with the piece of rusty ancient metal.
Before you can even open the door on your own accord, Richard pushes it open on his own and looks at you with a deadly glare. He seemed to not like you whatsoever, and you had no idea why.
"Handmaiden, Bastiaan summons your presence to his private quarters for dinner," Richard announces to you before proceeding to cross his arms over one another and give you a somewhat annoyed look.
"What, does he need me to feed him now?" You remark, a small snicker escaping your lips from the somewhat snide comment you had just made.
"He wishes to eat supper with you, so I advise you to restrain yourself from making any more remarks and to be on your best behaviour. Do not forget your place," The butler advises you before turning around and leaving hastily, most likely expecting you to follow after him.
Assuming that's what he most likely wanted you to do, you tail the butler through the rundown corridors and past the other handmaidens who pressed themselves up against the wall to make way for you and the butler, who were obviously in a rush. However, you were sure they wouldn't be doing the same if it was only you speeding through the corridor.
Looking like a lost puppy in this large palace, you relied on the butler to guide you through the twists and turns through the hallways that all were equivalent in appearance despite the illustrations or decorations hung up on the masonry of the walls.
The butler finally halts in front of Bastiaan's private quarters, gesturing to the door. The guards don't even do so much as glance at you, completely ignoring your presence and leaving you to open the doors on your own.
"Thank you for leading me to Prince Bastiaan's quarters Sir..." You thank the butler, bowing your head down in a small curtsy to the higher ranking palace staff member before ending your sentence there, only realising you didn't know his name yet.
"Andersson. Richard Andersson. I will return soon to serve you and his royal highness your supper. Until then, Backpfeifengesicht." Richard waves you off, urging you to open the doors and enter his room on your own accord.
" Backpfeifengesicht? What in the world does that mean?" You interrogate Richard as he walks away, most likely towards the kitchen to help any final preparations with dinner before serving.
"Ah yes, that's right. You don't speak our native language. It means 'a face just begging to have a fist in it'!" He exclaims, followed by a mighty laugh after exposing the way he had spited you.
You gasp, not bothering to complain at his rudeness due to the fact he was most likely out of hearing range either ways. Deciding not to cause a fuss and to just brush off his rude words, you now reach towards the door knob. You then proceed to push the door open, and look at the extravagant room before you.
It was nothing compared to Bastiaan's bedroom back in his own kingdom but it was still grander than anything you had ever had. In the middle of it all, standing hunched over in the orange light that spilled into the room, was Bastiaan with his upper half fully exposed. His bare back had several scars upon them, and before you could even voice your concern or utter a simple word, he turns around as soon as he noticed your lowly presence before him.
The shirtless prince looks at you with a blank gaze, not seeming to mind that you had caught him in the middle of getting dressed. You tried your best to stare him straight in his eyes but you found your own lingering to his chest and the muscles that were highlighted by the beauty of the apricot glare of the sinking Sun.
"You should knock first," Bastiaan tells you, slowly walking over to your figure. You back away with each step closer he takes to you, overwhelmed and flustered by what you had just walked in on.
"My apologies, Your Highness. I forgot to," You respond, waving your hands in front of yourself as if to urge him not to come any closer.
He ignores these signals and edges nearer and nearer to you as you try to keep an appropriate amount of space between the two of you. Soon enough, your back firmly hits against the drab stone wall and as a last resort, you cover your eyes and squeeze them shut to at least prevent yourself from looking any more at the half-nude prince.
"Why are you covering your eyes? You were admiring me just a moment ago as though I was a fine statue in the middle of a royal garden," Bastiaan interrogates you, his hand slamming against the wall on the right side of your head. Your lip quivers, feeling the vibrations from his hand slamming the wall.
"It's not appropriate for me to look at a prince while he is indecent! Please, put some clothes on?" You beg of him, refusing to let yourself look around once again until he announced that he was doing so.
Bastiaan stands there for a moment, a small smirk on his lips at your flustered behaviour. As you stand there, unknowing of what was going on, he brings his face just a mere inch away from your own and inspects your facial features.
"Has anybody told you how beautiful you look, [Name]?" He asks you, his voice seeming somewhat sultry to you as your legs begin to shake, wishing that this whole ordeal would just be over with already.
"What sort of nonsense are you spouting out of your mouth now? Get dressed!" You demand him, seeming to forget who you were speaking to as you grew more panicked. You could feel his warm breath hit your [S/C] skin and you were trying to edge yourself as far into the wall as you could.
Bastiaan grabs your wrists and yanks your hands away from your eyes. However, you still keep your eyes squeezed shut. You had morals after all, as tempting as it was to admire such a handsome figure, you were determined to keep things professional.
"How resilient of you," He points out, noticing that you didn't do so much as crack your eyelids open. "But you have already caught quite the eye full of my upper half anyways, so why do you refuse to look? Is it to do with your pride? If you want me to get dressed, you better use your manners and say please,"
You finally open your eyes and use all your determination to stare him dead in his own, smug and dark orbs as they gazed back into your [E/C] ones with such intent, knowing that he had you completely flustered and under his control. You clench your fists tightly and force yourself to speak those words in order to get things over with as quickly as possible.
"Please, Bastiaan," You say firmly, your eyes never glancing down to his torso even once. A pleased smile on his lips, he turns around so you could now only see the back of his head and his back muscles as he walks over to his drawer, picking up the pyjama top that matched with his pitch black, silk pants. His back turned to you and seeming not to mind or at least not to notice, he made no comment about you staring at his back. It truly was as though he was chiseled by the gods themselves, even if it was only his back you were staring at.
Nevertheless, you couldn't ignore the scars that were riddled across his back, yet seemingly none upon the front of his torso. You decide not to pry, finding that it was not your place to interrogate him on something that was most likely personal. The five, long scars that were scattered around on his back were soon concealed as he puts on the shirt then proceeds to button in up.
He turns around and gives you a small smile before gesturing to the window with his arm, presenting a table for two in front of a gorgeous view that you had not noticed before hand due to you being caught off guard. There was a flower vase in the middle of the ivory clothed table that held a single rose, and there was a tall, white candle stood beside it, not too far away. If anything it was romantic.
"Romantic, no? Those disgusting romance novels have finally taught me something that could possibly come in handy. Tell me, does this situation make your heart race? Imagine that you are a princess who has been longing for a handsome prince, and he surprises you with a romantic dinner and a spectacular view out of the blue. Do you think this is quite lovely?" Bastiaan questions, pulling out a chair and urging you to sit down.
You laugh slightly and sit down before he pushes your chair in. "It is quite lovely indeed. A little cliche if I do say so myself but I'm sure that most women will find this quite romantic. However, I am no princess so I'm not sure what sorts of things the suitresses themselves will like. I thought that you had no intentions of pulling off such stunts though," You respond, a pleased smile on your lips, even if this had not been prepared specifically for you.
"You're quite right, after all, I don't think such things like this are really necessary if I'm marrying solely for the sake of my kingdom and on my father's orders. In fact, if it weren't for my father, I wouldn't be planning on getting married at all," Bastiaan states as he makes his way to his own seat, taking his place across from you.
"So why bother doing this?" You interrogate him, your fingers drumming against the table to create a hollow beat.
"It really doesn't take much effort. I mean, it's just a table and a rose, with a candle. Besides, the romantic view was already here. If anything, why not? I dragged you all the way here with me, so what's the harm in a little fun? I'm pretty positive I made your heart swirl, and butterflies flutter up a storm in your stomach," He replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
As if on cue, two maids waltz into the room and curtsy, holding a tray each. They rush over and set the table before placing the meal in front of each of you and scurry away without a word, abruptly. They were obviously very intimidated by Bastiaan's presence, as they didn't do so much as even raise their heads.
You look in front of you to a gourmet meal of blackened bass served to you on a silver platter, and served exactly the same to Bastiaan. There were exquisite garnishes and a fiery red sauce decorated onto your plate at the edges. It truly was the most extravagant thing you've ever been able to eat. Your old salary would probably have to be saved up to a whole year to just afford a meal like this.
"Eat," Bastiaan commands, resting his elbow on the table in order to prop up his cheek in his palm while he wore an unimpressed expression. He watched you carefully, the feeling hidden behind his facade unreadable to you.
"I was going to eat anyways," You reply, looking at the arrangement of cutlery placed all around your platter. Deciding it didn't matter all that much, you picked up whatever size you liked the most before beginning to dig in.
"Most women are quite shy to eat in front of men in general. You seem not to mind," He points out, an amused expression growing onto his features as he gently taps his foot on the ground.
"We all have to eat. Besides, you seem to lack etiquette. Look at you with your elbows on the table," You respond, noticing his elbow still fixated on the edge of the ivory linen.
"Who are you to complain about etiquette? You're using the dessert fork and the tea knife. Do you have no shame?" He shoots back at you, a laugh escaping his lips as he watches you.
Your cheeks grow red with embarrassment before deciding to ignore his comment. "So what? Just let me eat in peace."
He smiles at you, like a mother watching her child eat a supper she had personally prepared for them. "Please do, I'll let you eat however you want then," He tells you before picking up his own cutlery, using a completely different type than what you were currently using. After all, you had chosen the incorrect ones to begin with.
You give him an annoyed snare as he looks down at his plate unknowingly, as if you were some bratty child. The two of you eat, speaking not very much as you were mostly just focused on your meal. After all, you wanted to savour every last bit, not knowing when you would be able to dine so finely ever again.
As you both finish up the last of your meal, you proceed to pick up your napkin and clean the corners of your lips, just in case. "I have a feeling that this is going to be a long and tiring week," You inform Bastiaan, a small sigh escaping your lips as you were already exhausted from just one day.
"You're quite correct, actually. Since I haven't brought any other palace staff with me and have rejected the head butler's offer to supply me with some palace staff of my own from Trodour," Bastiaan admits to you, acting unfazed by the news that he had just revealed to you.
"Wait- Are you expecting me to do all the work? To look after you? Aren't you old enough to look after yourself?" You object, slamming your hands on the table as you pounce up onto your feet, bewildered by this information.
"Yes, why not? I mean, you know how to clean and look after yourself, so why can't you look after me? After all, I pay you much more than any of my other palace staff. Even all their salaries added up together can barely compare with yours," Bastiaan replies, sat still in his seat with his forever listless expression and arms crossed.
"Yes but you hired me to be a fortune teller, not an actual handmaiden! This is not what I signed up for," You hiss back at him, nails digging into the cloth on the table as you glared at the man with your [E/C] eyes.
"Have you forgotten that you are indebted to me? Yes, I will still pay you the handsome amount that we agreed upon but don't forget whose fault it is that we're here in the first place. You peasants are always so nosy, eavesdropping on private matters instead of being cautious. Now, it is quite obvious that perhaps the gods do favour you and are making you steer clear of trouble here, especially since you managed to somehow persuade my father. I won't ask you to do much. All you have to do is clean the little mess I make either ways and assist me around. Isn't that simple enough?" Bastiaan explains to you, his demanding and stern expression and tone not letting up as he spoke his firm words.
You sit back down and let out a sigh. This man was truly a difficult one to argue with and he always made reasonable points. You look at him with a somewhat annoyed look in your [E/C] eyes, not having noticed that the once warm light had drifted away as night had finally arrived. You watched him as he sat smugly, knowing that he could win any argument that was presented to him. Letting out a tiresome sigh, the type that you seemed to be letting out much more than usual, you watched the moon in all its beauty as you pondered for a brief moment. Finding no rush in the matter, Bastiaan remains silent with his arm crossed peacefully, staring at you the whole time with his intriguing black orbs.
"Fine but only because I am indebted to you and you are paying me quite a lot just for simple readings. I don't like being indebted to people, so if I do this for you while we are here, will you let me continue to work for you as your fortune teller rather than your handmaiden? And I will no longer be indebted to you afterwards, correct?" You ask him, your eyes drifting away from the moon and towards the face of the handsome prince, that seemed to have appeared right out of an illustration of a children's fairytale book.
"Very well. You will no longer be indebted to me after this week, and then can return to your usual job as my fortune teller. However, if I find that I quite like you being my handmaiden as well, will you allow me to hire you for that purpose as well? I promise to pay you even more handsomely. If anything, I might even give you your own private quarters in the palace. I hate to break it to you but you are living in quite the dump," Bastiaan offers, a small smirk on his lips as he presents this proposal to you.
"I'll think about it. It depends on how difficult this job ends up being. I'm not the type to obsess so much over money and besides, by offering me an even higher salary, you're not really doing anything but giving me much more money than I really need. While your offer is tempting though, I'll just have to wait and see how things play out," You respond, followed by yet another tiresome sigh. Were you really going to become a chaperone now was well for a fully grown man and at that, the crown prince himself?
"Well, there never seems to be a dull day with you by my side, [Name]. With you as my matron, I could tease you to my hearts content without you running away," Bastiaan points out, a smug smile on his lips.
"I'll sleep on it," You respond abruptly, rolling your eyes slightly.
"My, my. Rolling our eyes now are we? Remember who I am, little lamb. I could just gobble you up like the big bad wolf," Bastiaan teases you, letting out a mischievous chuckle.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" You question him, crossing your arms as you now mimic his cold mannerisms.
"Haven't I told you this already? Because you're clumsy and always fall over. Not to mention, you're also quite powerless against me. Are you not?" Bastiaan replies truthfully, not shying away from his sentence in the slightest.
You don't utter out another word, standing up from your seat and curtsying to Bastiaan before making your way over to the door. You figured that it was getting late and with dinner now over, your matters here were over with.
"Running away, little lamb?" Bastiaan asks you as he stands up as well, tailing after you to the door. You reach for the door handle but stay stiller than a statue as you feel his chest press up against the back of your frame and his arm slither over your own to grab your hand, stopping you from turning the door handle any further than you already had.
"I haven't dismissed you yet," Bastiaan informs you in a formal tone, his large hand and cold skin sending sensations up your spine and causing goosebumps to form upon your skin.
"I have done what I came here for. Surely there is no other reason for me to stay?" You question him, a confused tone in your voice as you look over your shoulder at the young man stood behind you. Your heart throbbed in your chest at the close proximity that you were being forced to endure once again. After all, you were not used to being so intimate with a man.
"Indeed but have some manners. You aren't to leave until I dismiss you. Do you understand?" Bastiaan confirms with you, his eyes stern with you.
You nod your head, not wanting to argue and hold yourself up here any longer. "I understand, I'll make sure not to leave without being dismissed next time then," You confirm back with the relentless prince.
"Very well then. You are dismissed," He lets go of his grip on your hand and steps back, letting you regain your personal space once again.
"Goodnight, Your Highness," you tell him your goodbyes before opening the door and leaving the room to have the guards slam the door shut behind of you. You jump at the sudden noise, glaring at the two men on either side of the door who seemed to be amused by your reaction.
Letting out a small chuckle, Richard catches your attention as he stands off to the side of the hallway. It seems as though the middle-aged butler had been waiting for you, somewhat annoyed by the fact that he had to. "You're finally done. I thank the gods that you didn't stay for dessert as well," Richard comments before walking down the hallway. Assuming you were expected to tail after him, you did just that.
"Were you waiting for me?" You decide to ask him.
"Yes. You barely known your place around here, so I'm not taking any chances of you getting lost on your way back and causing discord in the palace. I'd hate for you to get your grubby hands on any precious artefacts. And I'd also get blamed for it if you broke something or caused any trouble," He explains simply to you, continuing down the same route as he always lead you down.
The two of you soon found yourselves walking along the corridor of rooms and this is where he halted. "I'll leave you here. You should be able to find your way to your room. It's only a straight hallway down to your door, so I hope that's not too much for you to take," He makes one last snide remark at you before disappearing among the crowds of maids back in the direction where you had come from.
You sighed, finding that nearly everybody in this palace saw you as a sort of enemy or complete outcast. Retreating to your private quarters at last, you lock the door behind you and set the key on your table. You finally empty your pockets and remove your apron, deciding to change into a nightgown if they had even given you one. Since you had left in such a rush, you hadn't even gotten a chance to gather your clothes. After all, you lived quite a while away from the palace and would have only delayed the journey.
Opening the drawer, you find an ivory nightgown. It was fairly thin and wouldn't do much against the cold but it was better than nothing. Besides, you could always change back into your better insulated uniform if you ever wanted to.
Changing into the nightgown, you fold your uniform and stow it away. It was slightly too big for your liking but it would have to do. Once done with this task, you make your way over to the window and pull the translucent curtains over the window panes. While these curtains seemed to do nearly nothing, you look to your bedside table and decide to not bother with turning on the light. After all, you were going to head to bed now. Climbing into the wooden bed, it cries and creaks out with each movement that you made.
Making your way under the covers, you take refuge from the cold. And as soon as your head hits the pillow, your eyes close and you feel yourself drift off to sleep nearly immediately. It had been a long day.
Nevertheless, your peaceful and deep slumber was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. You groan and peer out the window through the cracks in the curtain to see it was still pitch black outside. You sit up grumbling in annoyance and grab the key from your bedside table. Sluggishly making your way to the door, you unlock it to be met with a hooded figure.
"[Name]? You are Bastiaan's handmaiden, am I correct? I've come to ask you for a private reading," Odile's voice speaks from the shadows. Before you can respond, she pushes past you and into the room, swiftly shutting the door behind her in a secretive manner. She takes off her coal black cloak and sets it on the backrest of the chair in your room.
"That would be me. Did you really have to ask for it at this time, Princess Odile?" You question her, a large yawn spilling from your lips as you struggled to keep yourself awake. The pale moonlight that bled in through the translucent curtains illuminated her features as she took a seat on the chair. You sit on the one opposite from her slouching over sleepily.
"I'm afraid that my parents don't really approve of things like this. Fortune telling, I mean. They think it's ridiculous. I got quite an earful from them after they heard about me asking you to do so earlier today. But even if they don't like it, it doesn't mean I have to not like it too! If I'm honest with you, astrology really does fascinate me as well as all the things to do with it. I thought it wouldn't hurt to come here and ask for a reading in secret," Odile explains, an apologetic expression on her pale face.
"So you want a tarot card reading? I'll try my best, even if I'm so tired," You let out yet another large yawn before stretching your arms slightly. Taking out your tarot cards, you place the box aside and begin shuffling them in your hand.
"I apologise for coming here so late into the night. I can't really come here earlier in the day and expect not to be sighted, even if I had any time. My parents have been filling my schedule with endless lessons left and right ever since they heard Bastiaan complain about me. I guess they do only want what's best for me but I really want a break from this life sometimes, you know?" Odile expresses her feelings to you, twiddling her thumbs around one another as she looks down pitifully at her lap.
"That's understandable but a balance between these different areas of life should really be up kept," You tell her, knocking your energy throughout the deck and asking for guidance from the gods as usual before spreading it out across the table.
"Indeed! I actually read some ancient war poems and a lot of the soldiers who had written them before going to war said that that balance is important and that you should spend as much time as you do practising combat, spending time doing the things you love or spending it with the people whom you love. Are your parents like that, [Name]?" Odile questions, a small yet sorrowful smile on her rosy pink lips as her head tilts upwards to look you eye to eye.
"Well, I wouldn't know. I woke up on the streets with amnesia and had to do all I could from there. I don't know anything about my past but when I woke up, I had a satchel with me. In that satchel was a dress, tarot cards, a map, a notebook and some other simple bits and bobs. I managed to learn a bit about myself before I lost my memory but I never seemed to write much in my notebook unless I was overcome with negative feelings," You respond to her question.
"Oh my, I'm sorry for prying. I didn't mean to go past my boundaries. We are only acquaintances after all, ya' know? It must be quite terrible, waking up and finding yourself alone in the world," Odile sighs and looks at the cards. "I assume I should pick three?"
"Indeed, please do. And while it was difficult to even make a living starting from absolutely nothing, I don't miss my old life at all. I mean, it seems lovely but I don't even know about it. I remember nothing, so how can I miss nothing? Funnily enough though, I've been getting some flashbacks or some type of dreams lately," You tell her while she picks out the three cards.
"Maybe something has been triggering these memories to come back?"
"Perhaps," You shrug your shoulders as you flip over the first card to reveal The Sun. "The Sun in the past position is quite a good thing. It is quite a well-known and positive card after all. The card is communicating to me that you're coming out of a great phase in your life. You have good foundations to build your life upon: mortality, truth and selflessness," You explain the first card.
"A good foundation to build upon... that's quite good news," Odile smiles as you pick up the next card to reveal The Five of Wands.
"For the present, you've gotten The Five of Wands. It represents conflict and struggle. Perhaps at the moment you are going through a sort of competition against others. Instead of reaching your goal, you are being blocked by constant oppositions. It also shows the diversity that each has," You point at the card as you talk about it, showing the golden image of five men fighting to be heard, each with a piece of wood in hand.
"My, that really is accurate! I knew I could have trust in you, [Name]!" She exclaims in awe, nearly standing up before regaining her composure, reminding herself that it was in the middle of the night and she was not meant to be here in the first place.
"Now for your final card. In future position we have," You proceed to flip over the final card, "The Tower. Oh my. You have challenges upcoming that will be extremely disrupting in your life. Can you see the signs of something falling apart already? I would advise you to take action in the present just as it is happening now. And who knows? Perhaps being challenged is a good thing, as you can grow in the future," You explain.
"That's quite the unlucky card I'm guessing," She sighs and pushes loose strands of her blonde hair behind her ear, pursing her lips as she thinks deeply. "At least I now have a warning. I really appreciate you doing this for me ya' know, especially so late into the night," Odile thanks you, her accent slipping out every now and again.
"Why don't you just speak in your normal accent? I mean, you did so at the ball where I first caught sight of you," You decide to ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.
"My parents think that my accent is informal and it sounds too much like a countryside peasant's accent. So I'm trying my best to conceal it; they have even given me a speech therapist," She chuckles dryly. "I guess it is quite overdue however. After all, I do struggle quite a bit with social communication sometimes. I've been going to these sessions for several weeks now and I've been making some 'astounding' progress apparently. My parents would beg to differ though," Odile looks away, a glum and melancholy look overtaking her usual chipper self.
"They should be proud of you. On the other hand, I've been wondering. Why do you want to become Queen?" You ask her, tilting your head.
"Do you want the truth?"
"Nothing but the truth."
"I don't want to be Queen, actually. My parents are the ones who want me to become Queen. My life has become so difficult since becoming a potential wife to Prince Bastiaan. While I have had quite the crush on him for a while, if I marry him, I want it to be because he loves me back," She confesses biting her lip. "I mean, my life used to be more carefree. I have older brothers who I'm sure will all rule Trodour before I even get the chance to."
"Ah, I understand now. Actually, I haven't seen your brothers. Where are they?"
"They're just as occupied as I am now with lessons and work. In their spare time, they go hunting for wild animals in the woods behind the palace, or they even sneak out into the town square to charm some girls," Odile tells you before standing up and picking up her cloak once again. "I apologise for the sudden intrusion, and for telling a stranger all this. I guess I had more that I wanted to talk about than I expected."
"If you ever need somebody to talk to, I'm here for as long as Prince Bastiaan is. You'll know where to find me. I mean, us girls must stick together after all," You give her a reassuring and infectious smile that grows onto Odile's cheeks as well from one to the other.
"Do you know what type of woman Prince Bastiaan likes, [Name]? Anything that he likes in particular?" She questions you, pursing her lips.
"I'm not sure Prince Bastiaan would appreciate it if I told you about him without his knowledge. However, I can tell you some simple things. For your first question, I don't. In fact, I don't think he even has a type, or has even thought about falling in love before the King ordered him to find a wife. For the second, all I really know is that he likes to read books. He doesn't seem to like things that are particularly sweet either, as I noticed he usually strays away from those options when having tea."
"I see," She replies shortly, looking to the side dreamily, presumably thinking about Bastiaan with a timid blush on her once pale cheeks. If anything, it seemed more than just 'a crush'. "I'll be on my way now. Goodnight, handmaiden," Odile gives you her goodbyes before approaching the door, putting her cloak back on once again and then creaking the door open inch by inch.
"Sweet dreams, Princess Odile," You wave her goodbye as she soon leaves your room.
Before she can completely disappear from your sight, she looks over her shoulder and gives you a cheeky grin, "This was nice, handmaiden," She tells you, her figure then fading into the shadows as she closes the door behind her.
Status: Edited