7th ♕

The first royal visit happened when the prince would officially meet the chosen princess-in-training. He would go to the girl's house and formally introduce himself to her family. It usually occurred five days after the final interview. But this time, it was scheduled after twelve days.

When the Royal Spokesperson had been interviewed, he said that it had come to their knowing that one of the contestants had been injured, so they had decided to postpone the royal visit. It only added fuel to all those speculations that I had been chosen.

Apology to everyone who had placed their bet against me.

But like other people, I wasn't supposed to be sitting here and only waiting for the magical knock to come around. It was the first time Triavia was going to know who had been chosen. It was supposed to be a surprise. There should be that so-called anticipation.

Art: Meet you tomorrow. Be there at around seven in the morning.

That was his text message last night.

After accidentally hearing the news when I was at the infirmary, Art had decided that we should be acquainted as early as then. He had gotten hold of my number while we were waiting for Pete to pick me up, saying that I should text him when I got home, so that he wouldn't worry. It was such a smooth move, but I also knowingly gave in to it.

"What are we supposed to do again?" Mom no. 2 asked, pacing back and forth our living/dining room.

"Act surprised. That's the only plan." I kept my eyes on the door, but I didn't dare go near it. The reporters swarmed outside; they even started camping out in the streets as early as last night. Whenever they got the chance, they would snap pictures of me. Sometimes, those pictures would appear on the news. Realizing it, I asked Mom no. 2, "Did Mom, the other one, call? Did she hear about this in the news?"

"Not yet."

"Did Dad?"

Mom no. 2 shook her head.

I let out a sigh of relief. I was thankful that my authentic parents were currently out there somewhere far away from the daily news. I wished that the twins would be naughtier and keep Mom no. 1 and Roger occupied. As a former theater actress, before she had become a real estate agent, I was afraid that Mom no. 1 would use this opportunity to make a comeback. I knew her too well to know that she was that type of person.

And her sudden appearance would be a complete disaster. Not when I had ended up hiding the fact that my family tree was a little bit complicated. There were two trunks. Lots of branches.

Suddenly hearing cheers from afar, I stood up and got ready. "Any minute now. If that's not the prince, I'm going to turn on the TV to know where on this planet is he."

Mom no. 2 adjuster her hair bun. "I'm nervous."

"Chill. It's not like they would barge in the door without knocking," I said. The loud cheers were sure enough indication that the prince of Triavia was outside in our street.

"I'll be right behind you," Mom no. 2 said as I was holding the knob.

Upon the second knock, I placed a hand on my chest. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Here goes I don't know."

When I opened the door, the cheers nearly deafened both of my ears, and I was only able to clearly hear a few of what they were saying. The rest was just noise.

"Hooray for Her Highness!"

"You go, George!"

"Make us proud!"

We lived in a swarmed area. A two-way street that meant it. The first face I saw was Art, who was standing a few steps away.

"Hi," Art, best pal nowadays, greeted me. He was wearing a casual suit, a V-neck shirt underneath it. His slim fit pants were folded at the bottom. A comfortable pair of sneakers finished his get-up. It was, like, he was going to take a walk in the park.

"Hey," I replied.

Art handed me a bouquet of white roses. "It's nice to meet you?"

"Hello, Prince Arthur of Triavia. I am very overwhelmed by your presence." It was odd that I'd been talking to him all week, but this should be our first meeting. How should one rightfully act?

"Flowers for you," he said, moving the bouquet towards me.

"What's this for?"

"Flowers," he answered, "for you."

"I'm not even dead. Why are you giving me flowers?" I asked him with a constrained voice, in case anyone would manage to hear that past all the security detail that was surrounding Art.

"Aren't girls supposed to be thrilled with this, no?"

"That's odd. I don't even know what to do with this."

"Smell it?"

"Why?"

"Beats me. George, do everyone a favor and just hold it for a little while. We don't want them to think that you're snubbing the flowers," Art told me, with that plastered smile on his face.

I took it from him, despite not understanding its purpose. The crowd's cheer got even livelier when I held the flowers. With that same fixed smile on my face, I told him, "I wish I could fake a blush right now."

Art grinned. "Thank you for the thought that my soon-to-be princess will try to get smitten by my charms."

"I'll definitely try my best."

"Do you want to invite me inside?" he asked.

"Oh, right," I said, remembering was why he was here. Traditions and all that. Making way for him, I added, "It's just my mom, though."

"I'd love to meet her," he replied.

Since Mom no. 2 didn't want to go out of the house because of her apprehension to having her pictures taken by the paparazzi, Art got inside and was only followed by two security personnel and several official photographers. Somehow, they managed to fit inside our living/dining room after temporarily moving our small table and red stools to the kitchen.

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Art greeted Mom no. 2, offering a hand. I swore he was about to say madam, but he hesitated when he saw how young Hannah, Mom no. 2, was. He also gave her a bouquet of flower. Hers was of different color, like spring.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness." Mom no. 2 was getting uneasy as the photographers took her photo while they shook hands.

They had a small conversation regarding our home and how long had we been staying here. Art was asking a few more questions about me and my dad, but the photo op was prioritized. There was a schedule that should be followed.

It turned out that having the prince in a place like this with a lot of people around was a high-risk situation, or so I heard from the security details talking in the background. With my lingering apprehension to the spotlight, I moved to the far side of the room that I was even able to hear the orders given to the security personnel. But of course, the even coordinators had called me over after noticing that I was somewhat missing from the scenario.

"I apologize for the fact that we have to leave right away," Art told my mom.

"No, it's okay, Your Highness. Everything should be on schedule," Mom no. 2 answered.

"If it's okay with you, I have to take George with me for a while," he asked for permission.

"Go ahead, you two," Mom no. 2 said, motioning for the open door. "Take care and enjoy."

"I'll be back, Mom." I waved goodbye to her.

She smiled.

Art and I went out of the house again. And this time, we were supposed to wave to the crowd in greeting. I was slowly getting hold of the schedule that they were talking about.

As the official photographers were taking our picture, Art suddenly asked, "One question, though, do you have a boyfriend or someone special?"

"Do you really have to ask that right now?" I asked incredulously. Had he gotten used so much to this kind of scenario, to this much people in front of us, that he could talk about anything as long as they were out of hearing range?

"Yeah, I just have to know where I'm supposed to stand," he said, ever so casually.

"Do girls actually join the search while having a boyfriend?" I asked him, out of sheer curiosity.

"They said so."

"That's odd."

"I have to agree with that," he said.

"How about on your end? Does this search happen even when you guys have someone special already?"

He only smiled in response.

"That is also odd. I'll never understand this arranged marriage by the kingdom," I said.

"Back to my previous question, do you?"

"I have no one. It's not even rocket science. How about you? Do you have a girlfriend somewhere? A sad girl who's weeping as she's watching the news? Any name I should watch out for?" I saluted one reporter who called out my name. The reporter was thrilled, but I was certain that Lenora wouldn't be. I should stick to waving. I should keep my source of sponsored clothes.

Art stopped from looking around and stared at me. I didn't realize it at first. But the crowd gasped all of a sudden, melodramatically holding their breaths. I thought of asking him why they were like that, and then I saw his sappy eyes locked on me.

Or at the floor if I were invisible.

I hoped it was the floor.

"Okay," I said, evenly. "What's with that look?"

He laughed quietly. "Asking for the name of my girlfriend is like asking for your own, do you know that?"

I blinked.

And then, after a few more seconds, I realized it. Rolling my eyes, I muttered, "Freak. Keep your pick-up lines to yourself. Save it."

"This is going to be fun," Art responded, looking amused. He motioned for the carriage waiting in front of us. "Okay, we have to move to that carriage over there. They have prepared a royal parade for you."

"How did you know?"

"I'm wearing an earpiece," he replied, showing his right ear to me. It was very small and unnoticeable. "We always do, especially when we're out in a public event like this."

"Do I also have to wear one of those later on?" I asked him, and he nodded in response. With a smile, he led me over to the carriage. Or rather, as Art's security detail inexplicably paved way for us to get into the carriage, past all the people around us. When I had a clear view of the white carriage, I said in amazement, "That does look like the real deal."

"They really go all out with this event, no? And just a warning, there's a surprise waiting for you when we get back to the palace," Art told me.

"Did I get unpicked?" I asked, as he offered a hand and I got inside the black carriage.

He laughed. "No. But someone's going to meet you at the palace later."

"Who?"

Art settled in his seat in front of me. "She said that she's your friend. She talked to my mother, and she had agreed that you two should meet."

"A friend?" I asked, not having any clue who he was talking about. Since it was a she, it couldn't be Pete, who remained to be the only person I considered as a friend.

Art had received instructions that he should sit beside me for the parade, because there would be a place where the carriage's roof would be raised and lowered. In the meantime, I got momentarily distracted by the coziness of the carriage. There were velvet seats, floral arrangement at the back, and the sweet smell of flowers lingered in the air. It could truly make anyone feel like a princess.

Beside me, there was a window, which I might have to use later to wave at the people. Cozying smiles, waving, and acting like a paper doll. Was it all there was to this title?

I kept on treating this like a part-time job, with the lingering thought that maybe I wouldn't even have to worry about holding that title. This might be my temporary means of making a living, and there was a line-up of girls behind me, who would take my spot when everything would be revealed—my complicated past and the genuineness of my twisted intentions.

♔~♕

After the parade had ended, we were taken to a fancy building, which I readily labeled as the palace. It was actually a part of the whole thing, but there were specific names for each building. I hadn't been that much of a royalty fan to remember every single one of them. I collectively called it as the palace instead.

When I got down from the carriage, seeing Mom no. 1 suddenly appearing in front of me was a way better idea. Instead, when Art and I went inside the building, she was standing there in the hall. Looking right at me. Like it was so normal for her to be doing that.

"Why is she here?" I asked Art, who was about to introduce me to her.

"She was the friend I was talking about," Art replied, not having a single clue about what was going, or about what had happened before.

That faded blonde hair, pretty face, and her million-dollar smile. Love was actually smiling at me like she meant it. I wanted to raise a finger, but I couldn't.

Too bad.

"Hi, George, it's nice to see you again," Love, my ex-best friend, said to me.

Out of politeness to Art, I tried to wipe away the glare in my eyes and the persistent frown on my face while I stared at her. I breathed out, clearly annoyed. "I can't believe this. You're really saying those words to me."

"Is there something wrong?" Art asked, worriedly.

"You know what, I don't want to argue with you right now. In fact, this conversation is pointless. I never want to speak with you again," I declared, wanting for this to be over.

"I wanted to talk to you, George," Love said to me, sounding earnest.

"Two... three years ago, maybe?"

"What is going on?" Art asked the both of us, standing in the middle, physically and figuratively.

"Art, we just need a minute," I told him, not wanting to drag him into this mess.

"Is everything all right?" He wanted to make sure.

"Yes, Your Highness," Love answered him.

I nodded. "It's fine."

"I'll just step out for a bit, so that the two of you can talk," Art said, cautiously. It seemed like he didn't want to leave us, mostly apprehensive with my sudden outburst. But then, he must have seen that we direly needed some privacy, so Art quietly left the hall. His security detail followed him, leaving us in the empty lobby.

"George, I was wrong. We broke up. I'm here to say sorry," Love said.

"Why? Is there a sudden need for that?"

"He cheated on me. You were right. If he could do it to both of us, he'd do it to someone else," Love continued explaining.

"I don't care."

"Let's be friend again," Love said. Did she even hear herself?

"Friends? Aren't you here because I'm with—sort of—a guy again? Then you'll lure him with your charms and watch me cry in one corner? This is what's it about, right?"

"George..."

"I'm right. You know that. So how do you plan on doing it this time?" I asked her, sarcastically. After a sudden realization, I doubtfully added, "Did you also join the princess search?"

"I am your runner-up if you still didn't know. And if I really want to destroy you, I can do that. I know you. I know everything about you. I can do it easily. You know that," Love said. The downpoint of having an ex-best friend was the fact that she knew too much about you that she could just tell anybody and you were gone for good.

Of course, she would be. "See? That's what you are. That's what you do."

"I won't, though. I really want to make it up to you."

"Look," I said, taking a breath, "let's just stop this. I honestly don't have enough trust left for me to believe you again."

"You can't hate me forever," she said.

"I've been doing a fine job for years," I replied.

"We'll be seeing each other every now and then. Shouldn't we at least be cordial?" Love suggested the idea.

"I'm fine as is," I answered, walking away. Out of all the twists, I missed this one. As it turned out, she had managed to become the first runner-up.

When I thought about it, it was actually possible for her to have a talk with the Queen. Her father held a government position; he was the Secretary of State for Education. In fact, their entire clan was well-off. If there was someone more suited to be the next princess, who had been born and raised for this kind of set-up, Love was actually that person.

I just couldn't figure out what she would gain from doing this and for appearing in front of me like that. A part of me wanted to treat this merely as a coincidence, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that she was lingering around to watch my downfall once more.

Or to cause it.

Then take hold of the opportunity.

She used to be crazy about Robin. Had she seen his true colors that she had gotten over him and actually wanted to be a princess this time? If she had that thought, I wouldn't hold it against her. Art was a good person, and it wouldn't be that bad end up with this guy even out of this kingdom's tradition.

When I turned across the hall, speaking of which, I found Art leaning against the wall. I stopped on my tracks, briefly seeing our reflection on the full-length gold mirror at the end of the hall.

I was wearing Lenora's signature floral shirtdress. It was a design that she had made exclusively for me. Her reason was that washed petal pink and violet brings out the lady in every girl.

Apparently, I needed a lot of those.

He straightened his stance. "Is everything okay?"

"Why do I have to meet her?"

"We thought she was your friend," he answered.

"She said she's the first runner-up," I got to the point. "Why did she have to be around all of a sudden?"

His lips formed into a somber smile. "They let the runner up and the princess-in-training meet after the announcement. Some days, you will see her around."

"Is there a reason for that?"

"It's part of the training. Take my life for example," he said. "Everyone treats us with respect, being members of the royal family. But we don't know if that's still how they are behind our backs. We don't know who have ulterior motives, or which of our close relatives have cunning intentions."

"So it's really part of the training?"

"That's what they say," he answered.

"Setting the princess search aside, I really dislike her," I honestly told him.

"Did something happen before?"

With a shrug, I said, "We used to be best friends since we were in kindergarten. But if I tell you the rest of the story, things might get awkward. It kind of involved a guy, and we were betrothed by the kingdom and all."

"Try me. Rule no. 1: Be honest with each other." Art said, raising his forefinger.

"What's with the rules?" I asked. Well, honesty was not my game right now.

"It's the kind of rule between two people who were betrothed by the kingdom," he plainly answered, dropping his shoulders.

"I don't know about the rules, but yeah, you'll get to know it later anyway. There's no point in keeping this a secret. Well, his name is Robin. The three of us met in high school."

"Ahh... so you weren't kidding when you said that there was a guy," Art said.

"Well, life is full of surprises."

"And then what happened?" Art asked.

"His name is Robin," I said. We continued to walk around the hall, until we reached a veranda with arched doorways and tiled floors. "It's nothing big. Just a simple story. Robin and I, well, I thought we had a mutual understanding. Love was very supportive of me. What I didn't know was that she also liked Robin. As you can see, Love is the charming one—"

"Bring to me anyone who will say that you're not," Art politely cut me off.

I let out a smile. "Thank you, betrothed, for saying that."

"You're welcome," he