Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
But at that moment, my father strides into the dining area, interrupting my fantasies. He comes over to the side of the table I’m sitting at with the look he wears on his face when he’s about to be condescending. I wipe my mouth off with a handkerchief and sit back, staring up at him with a blank look.
“Eric,” he says, glancing at the meal in front of me and then at his watch.
“Dad,” I say in response as I wait for his disparaging words.
“It’s a little late for breakfast, isn’t it?” he asks.
“It’s only noon,” I reply.
“Only noon?” he parrots. “Your dear sister has been up and on her feet since seven o’clock.”
“I’ll bet she has been,” I remark. I love Ella with all of my heart, but her goody two shoes ways make me look like I’m a total criminal by comparison. My dad merely huffs with exasperation.
“You need to start taking your duties as Prince of Chromia more seriously, especially since you are heir to the throne,” my father orders.
“I do take my responsibilities seriously. My only commitment today is some royal meet and greet at the chancellor’s office, and that’s not until two. I’ll be ready by then,” I say.
My father rolls his eyes.
“Eric, that’s your only commitment for the day because it’s the only thing I can trust you with. Your sister Ella attends at least three royal functions a day; you attend one every few days.”
“What more do you want from me?” I ask, feeling exhausted by the conversation already.
Wilhelm rolls his eyes again in a very un-royal fashion.
“I want to know that I can trust you to run this country long after I’m gone. And right now, I don’t feel like I can,” he snarks before striding off.
I sulk in my seat for a bit, letting his words sink in. I don't want to let my father down, but I'm having a hard time seeing myself as the King of Chromia frankly. Of course, it's my birthright, but I would much rather pass the throne down to my sister – she's more fit to reign over this fucking hellscape.
Appetite gone, I brood at the table. All I can think about is how I'm screwing up as the Prince of Chromia. Goddamit. Should I abdicate? Give up my place in the line to the throne? How do I do that, anyways? Talk to the prime minister?
Morehouse comes out of the kitchen carrying a pot of coffee. “Another cup, Your Highness?” he asks. I shake my head.
“No, thanks, although I appreciate it.” Then, I decide to move on to more appetizing topics. After all, I can’t win this succession thing, no matter how I try. “Morehouse, do you happen to know the name of the maid who cleaned my private quarters this morning?” I ask in a light tone.
The steward frowns.
“No, I don't, Your Majesty. Was something wrong?” he asks. I lean in close to him, trying to be as discreet as possible.
“No, nothing is wrong, but I’d really like to find out who she is,” I say in a hushed tone.
“I see,” the older man says, giving nothing away. “I will do my best to get you her name, Your Royal Highness.”
“Thank you,” I reply as I butter a piece of toast.
Then, the steward bows and exits through the dining room double doors, leaving me to my solitude. Hopefully, Morehouse can find her because I’ll go fucking insane in this loony bin if I don’t see her again. Fuck my dad. Fuck the kingdom. Fuck all of it.
I scarf down the rest of my breakfast, leaving nothing on the plate. Glancing at my watch, I see that it's almost one o’clock, which means I need to get ready for that goddamn meet and greet. The truth is, I don't have any interest in the ceremonial functions my father sets aside for me to attend. I show up to them just to make him happy but it were up to me, I wouldn’t even go to the state dinners and stupid Parliamentary hearings; the royal spotlight just isn’t for me.
I wipe my mouth off with a handkerchief and toss it onto the table with a disgusted movement. Hell, how did my life get so crap? Well, if I'm lucky, Morehouse will have the name of the maid for me later tonight because seeing the curvy goddess is the only thing that’s going to improve my fucked-up situation.
CHAPTER 5
Kitty
I take a seat on a flat stone in the garden, far away from the bustling business of the castle. I open my brown paper bag and pull out a bottle of water and the turkey and cheese sandwich I’d made earlier this morning. The birds sing sweetly as they fly over my head, and the blossoming flowers calm my nerves. The inside of the castle is beautiful, but I prefer to be out in the garden because what the hell? I still can’t believe I flashed my thong at Prince Eric this morning.