Chapter 2

• Ashley
• I placed a hand below my neck, trying to cover my breasts as I walked out of the ballroom. I was aware of my impoliteness as I said not a single word to the alleged Prince before running off. As I walked through the hallways with the guards following closely behind me while holding a glass of wine in my right hand, my mind thought about the way his hands felt warm in mine.
• I was disturbed abruptly by a petite lady who was dressed in a green ball gown with a purple hideous mask over her face as she grabbed my arm rudely, jerking me straight into reality.
• With my well-manicured fingers grabbing the wine glass while covering my mouth with my idle hand, I shook my head violently, not understanding a word she had said.
• I smelt wine oozing from her mouth as she opened it and I was certain that she had drank too much beyond her capacity as she dragged her heels against the ground.
• “D-Do you know that there’s a rumor around town that the Prince of Midon is so good in bed? I heard that he goes at it for hours without stopping. I wonder why he hides from the public.” She stated as she let out a yawn afterward.
• I yanked my arm from hers. I gave her a deceptive smile before running off. How was it any of my concern if the Prince of Midon was good in bed? From what I know, nobody had seen his face since he was a child. The newspapers were constantly keen on spinning a rumor about someone they have never met or known.
• She didn’t even know me and yet she spoke as if we had known each other for decades. I looked behind me and noticed a guard holding the petite woman who continued with her gibberish talks, she was certainly dead drunk.
• I dropped the wine glass with a standing butler, and made to leave when another man dressed in a black suit, red bow tie to match and a black mask to match prevented me and some other women from taking another step while gesturing towards the guards to watch over us. He handed me a bright white fancy card and afterward a guard handed me back my cell phone. No phones were allowed in the ballroom due to privacy reasons and not even a single photographer was present. The guards later escorted me outside the palace.
• “Thank you,” I replied and they gave me a curt bow before leaving.
• For the first time, I was treated with respect and that was the way royals were treated. I was sure that if I wore a rag and stepped into the palace, one or two persons might bow to me. The palace was lively but no one was allowed to go anywhere else apart from the ballroom. Not even a tour of their expensive bathroom.
• When I finally got out, I took a deep breath and kicked off my heels, held them in my hands while flagging down a cab while noticing a couple of women squealing loudly in a vehicle and I let out a deep sigh. My mind was far away, thinking of my job at the bakery and how to make more money to make my life easier. The cab driver then muttered a couple of minutes later that he was at my apartment. I thanked him and stepped out. A yawn escaped from my lips as I unlocked my apartment door with the key that I carefully tucked under the rug. I flopped on my tiny living room sofa, removing the mask covering my face and rubbed my sweaty forehead.
• Splashing cold water on my face was a kind of night routine or a ritual that I had grown accustomed to but my limbs refused to move.
• Shouldn’t that be referred to as laziness?
• After a few minutes, I went to my fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of soda. As the cool, refreshing taste hit my tongue, I groaned in pleasure, then remembered the fancy card I had been given. I picked it up from my sofa and opened it.
• It was a letter scribbled in fresh black ink, inviting me to another party, the next day in the afternoon at the distinguished greenhouse in the royal palace. I made a decision not to go, I had a job to do at the bakery and I only accepted the invitation to the dance because Elena, my older sister, kept bugging me on the phone for about a month because I told her that I was invited to the ball.
• She said I should take the chance and feel like a royal for a night. She mentioned also that people from the lower-class like us were only invited to the palace once in three decades.
• My stomach was growling with hunger and I decided to cook, so I went over to my little kitchen. But then I realized I was still dressed, so I immediately took the dress off in the living room and folded it up, remembering it was brand new, before heading to the kitchen. I was dressed in a bra and panties and was comfortable. I took the vegetables out of my fridge and started cooking them.
• My thoughts then turned to the alleged Prince.
• Nevertheless, he was a great dancer. His whole personality seemed charming. He didn’t ask me to sleep with him and to top it all, I was certain that if I saw his face, he would have been so attractive and beautiful. His milky eyes were seductive and could make the hardest of souls melt. I was lucky enough to be invited to a ball.
• And then I remembered glancing at his prominent bulge as he twirled me, it was so big, I laughed at my dirty thoughts and covered my lips with my palm. I remembered the way my chest occasionally slammed into his during the dance and I swore that my nipples hardened through my dress. And then I caught the strong smell of something burning. My eyes widened as I looked at the pot. I opened it and unfortunately my vegetables were almost burnt.
• Shit.
• I groaned aloud and reached out to open the drawers to pick out some noodles. I dropped it into a fresh pot and decided not to think about anything but my food.
• But my mind wandered off again and I thought, what did he think of me? Would he be disappointed that I ran off?
• I turned around much later and turned off the gas cooker.
• My noodles were done and ready to eat.
• I served my food and walked into my bedroom. I sat and began eating. I flipped open a book and began to read.
• I laughed and cried a few times and choked as well. I was enjoying the book so much that I didn’t know when it struck midnight. I then remembered my dance with him as I twisted the noodles into my fork. It was beautiful and romantic. The way he struggled to gaze into my eyes as we danced, no one had ever looked at me that way.
• I reminded myself that I had a job, and numerous bills to pay. Someone like him was the least on my mind and definitely not worth thinking about especially when I wasn’t totally sure if he was truly saying the truth.
• But was it wrong to just think of a Prince?
• Was it wrong to desire a Prince?
• I was just a very simple girl from Midon, unsophisticated and definitely not rich but at least I could afford to eat twice a day.
• My palm rested upon my chin as I began to daydream about him and his voice.
• A man who made my heart race in a few hours of dancing.