Page 9 of Mated to the Crown
Do I tell her?
I don’t even have my own shit figured out yet.
I look up, taking my hand and brushing my knuckles across her jaw.
She leans into my touch, her eyes meeting mine, and all I can think about is the dreams. The dreams of her and me, without any political attachments. The dreams of us living our life. But how do I get that? Do we just run away like the fantasy I mentioned? Do we try and make it work? Would she even want to be a Queen?
“What is this?” She finally breaks the silence, her eyes brimming with tears.
I swipe my thumb as one trickles down her cheek.
“This is a fantasy. Some silly dream a mage is playing on me, right? You aren’t real.” Her words tighten my chest.
“This is very real, Princess.” My hand cups her cheek and I lean forward.
Her eyes flutter as she looks at me, the light blue with specks of gold throughout are highlighted by the sun poking back out from the clouds. Her cheeks are pink with a twinge of blush and her mouth is slightly parted, those beautiful, pouty lips.
“But it can’t be. You're a Prince. I’m nobody.” Her voice comes out as a whisper but she doesn’t pull away. Her hand slides against my chest and the burn of her fingertips spread outwards across my skin.
“You are more than nobody, Celeste. You are mine.” I lean forward, about to kiss her when she reels backward, pulling her hand from me.
“What? I am not yours, that’s for fucking sure. I’m no whore.” She rips the jacket off and hands it back to me, her eyes wide. She turns and leaves and I just stand there, holding the jacket in one hand and wondering what to do. She is a spitfire, and I fucking love it.
CELESTE
More curses fill my mind as I stalk away. Just because I’m interested doesn't mean I’m his. He’s just a stupid Prince, thinking that he’s better than anyone and can have anyone he wants. That’s not the truth. I’m a person and I have my own thoughts, even if those thoughts are about him and me in bed.
It’s a fantasy. That’s all. I walk through the gardens, trying to get away from him as fast as I can. I need to figure out how to get through this. He’ll be in the palace everyday, I just needed to find chores that don’t involve being anywhere near him. Maybe I can transfer over to the laundry or the night shift. There has to be something… If I see him again, I’ll probably lose it.
I enter back inside, looking around at the regular monotony of the palace.This place has been my home for as long as I can remember. Deep down I want something different, I want to change my course, but now that it’s about to be changed I’m scared. That nervous girl, hiding behind my mother when my father died and wanting to pull away from everyone. That is all I am. I scold myself, but that is all I know. I wasn’t ever putin the position to be responsible for other people’s thoughts or actions. I’m not someone people can’t live without. I’m a servant and easily replaced. I’m not a Princess.
I need to go find Jeffries to ask about moving chores, this is all I can do for now. There is no way I can stay where I am, and I need to figure out what’s going to happen now that Charlotte isn't around. Does that change what I am doing?
“Jeffries!” I call out, running over to him. He is at his usual spot, notebooks sprawled on the standing desk in front of him.
“Oh Celeste, I wanted to talk to you.” He gives me a smile and grabs a different notebook, flipping it open. “Your chores have been changed due to the Queen’s unfortunate passing. We have had to shuffle things around, some staff have been moved to assist in the funeral and you will be moved as well.”
Hope blooms in my chest. I could busy myself with getting ready for the funeral. There will be extra loads of laundry to be done, prep in the kitchen for the big meal after, even just helping to organize and keep everything clean.
“I understand. What will I be doing?” I ask, trying to sound neutral and keep my hope buried in my chest.
He rips off a piece of paper from his notebook and hands it to me,
“The times are listed. Your new routine starts tomorrow. Any questions, please talk to me, Stella is not your superior anymore, you will report directly to me and Morgan.”
My eyes shoot up.
Morgan? As in Prince Malik’s right hand butler?
“Thank you.” I nod again and hold the paper in my hand.
He folded it before he handed it to me, so I can’t look at it while I walk. I quickly duck into a bathroom and pull the door closed, locking it before I look at the paper.
6am - Bring fresh towels and sheets, change out them all
7am - Bring breakfast from the kitchen
8am - Clean room thoroughly
