Chapter 8

1475 Words
I might have been stunned by the imposing nature of the palace, but it seemed to fade away into nothingness when we stepped through the doors. Ben announced it as the grand entrance and it almost felt like he was more of a tour guide than a… I wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be. Bodyguard, perhaps. Or chauffeur. It wasn’t something I was comfortable asking him. The staircase to our left was marvellous, but it felt slightly disappointing because I had expected it to be in front of us as we walked in. As though having to turn my head to see it, detracted from its grandeur somehow. Nevertheless, I couldn’t even imagine the people who must have been up and down that staircase. The important guests throughout history made it more impressive than the architectural features. I couldn’t quite believe I was in Buckingham Palace and feeling rather underwhelmed. The red carpet trailing up could have belonged to any old staircase. Well, not any old staircase, but any old grand staircase. I chuckled a little to myself and Ben gave me a slightly stoney stare. “Sorry. The staircase is just a little erm underwhelming.” His impatience was showing as he sighed. “It looks better from the halfway point, but maybe later. Come on, we’re late enough already. The idea was to get you here before they had introduced the other contestants to the King and dignitaries, not leave his majesty stood waiting for us.” I followed him through into a long ornate hallway, although it seemed like everything was ornate. Not that it was surprising. It was a palace, after all. The red carpet runner on the floor led the way, revealing so many giant paintings on the walls. I was certain I had never seen frames quite so large anywhere other than galleries. I turned around to get a better look at a portrait of our recently departed queen. As I moved very inelegantly, I felt something against the base of my back. The panic was welling up in the pit of my stomach, rising continuously. I could feel the bile about to let itself loose. Knowing that some sort of priceless antique item was about to careen to the marble floor. The feel of warmth against my back nudged me forward slightly, and I turned to find Ben carefully straightening some sort of wooden vase on a square base. It was so detailed and parts of it didn’t look like wood at all. The painting of it was so carefully done that it looked like a mix of wood and ceramic. I was just glad it wasn’t. “You are going to be the death of me, young lady.” Ben held his hands a few centimetres on either side of the vase, as though he was getting ready to catch it all over again. Giving me a pointed stare. “Just be careful, please.” I touched my hand to Ben’s upper arm, feeling more than a little guilty for all the trouble I was causing him. “I’m not normally this clumsy, I swear. Just nervous, I guess.” Trying to give him my best smile, but I wasn’t sure it came across as the sweet and innocent impression I was trying to give. “I will be more careful, I promise. I guess they were right when they said curiosity killed the cat, except it nearly killed the vase instead.” Ben finally relaxed his stance and lowered his arms. “You’re going to be nothing but trouble. I can tell already.” His hand was on the base of my back again and he led me straight forward across the long corridor like room. The doors facing us seemed to open magically as we approached. Revealing two butlers stood stately as we moved through. The overwhelming, suffocating reaction to what faced me felt strong enough that I considered whether I would faint. My head whipped around as I tried to take it all in. The room was large and there weren’t even many people inside, but every set of eyes turned to me and stared. It was almost like walking into assembly at school late. The looks of judgement and disapproval were powerful and only added to my need to hurl. I had never coped well around my peers and suddenly I was regretting even entering the competition. I wanted to run away. To hide behind Ben. To be anywhere but there in the room being judged. Nearly every person in the room was female, which somehow made the situation so much worse. On the whole, girls seemed to be the worst for getting to me. I didn’t know how they did it because I certainly didn’t find it a natural skill, not that it was one I wanted. There was only one male contestant and as Ben nudged me forward like a mother trying to force her child to engage, I made a beeline for the smartly dressed man. He was shorter than me, but I didn’t even realise how much shorter until I got closer to him. His blonde hair swept to one side and the way his blue eyes evaluated me just made me doubt my choice. I was too certain that they would find me wanting. I came to a stop beside him and smiled. The others seemed to have given him a wide berth. Everyone in the room seemed to be standing in huddles, making small talk. Well, except the two of us, and somehow that made me feel like he was my kind of person. “Hey, I’m Noel.” I held my hand out with more enthusiasm than I felt, and the sweeping feeling of upcoming rejection reminded me why I hated being social. His head tipped to the side and sent his hair flopping over. The look on his face was still way too critical for my liking. Nevertheless, he took my hand and shook it. “I’m Dylan. Girl, you need some serious help.” He looked me up and down again. “You must be the late addition and by the looks of you, it was very late indeed.” His tone was friendly instead of mocking, and my shoulders slumped in response to his positive tone. The smile he flashed me helped too. “Yes. I was working when they came to tell me. Baking up a storm all morning, then thrust into this.” I rubbed at my jeans again self-consciously. His hand landing on my shoulder felt a little odd given the height difference. Almost like he was going for a brotherly feeling. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. With your cheek bones and complexion you could get away with turning up in a bin bag and still be the best-looking girl in the room. You certainly caused a stir when the rest of these blood suckers saw you.” “Blood suckers?” He wasn’t wrong as such, but it seemed an odd assessment. “They are all hoping to come away with something more than the first place ribbon.” He must have taken in my clueless expression and took pity on me quickly. “Between the King’s sons and the visiting royal, there is plenty of man candy to impress.” For a second, I thought he must be wrong. Who would consider a man to be more important than something they actually had to work for and earn? Then the butlers opened the double doors again. Everyone seemed to settle instantly. The silence completely unnerving me again. Slowly, a procession of well-dressed men entered the room. The King first, of course. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what he looked like. Then came the princes, side by side, almost laughing together as their long strides carried them into the room. The girls hoping to find a prince were unlucky, as the men in their early twenties showed no interest in them. They appeared to be sharing an inside joke. Then he swept into the room like he owned the entire palace, more regal than I could have ever imagined. My jaw must have literally fallen open because Dylan pressed my jaw slightly with his finger, but didn’t say a word. The mystery man’s eyes met mine and the smile he flashed told me more than a conversation could have done. He was the reason I was there. He had sent the two cars to collect me instead of one. It had all been part of the twelve days of Christmas he had written about. He was the visiting royal that Dylan had spoken of. I just didn’t understand how it was really possible, but I couldn’t deny it must be.
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