Four: Prince Declan
845 Words
Four
Prince Declan
“She touched me shoulder.” I’d been doing nothing but repeating this since we’d finished breakfast.
Oliver chuckled. “That’s a surprise, mate? You basically have the whole school thinkin’ that she’s your secret girlfriend. Maybe it was just part of the show.”
“It wasn’t part of the show,” I said, “I’m supposed to be the one that is controllin’ everythin’. Not her. She’s mine. Not the other way around. I can’t have her touchin’ me shoulder like that.”
“Well, then I think you should abandon this whole plan of ‘protectin’ her as ye say yer doin’.”
We were sitting in maths class in the very back. We were supposed to be taking notes. But so far, all I could think about was Fiona in the dining hall squeezing my shoulder as if she actually cared about me.
“I’m not pretendin’ to protect her. I am. I’m not goin’ ta survive my last year here if I’m constantly worried about my enemies tryin’ to f**k Fiona because they want to get back at me. I can’t listen to them sayin’ things like yer servin’ girl served me last night, yer highness or else I’m goin’ ta have ta commit murder, Oliver.”
“But do you even like Fiona?” Oliver asked.
I paused. It was a good question. From the time that she moved into the palace, I thought she was an annoying goody goody. She was too quiet, she cried a lot, and she was always off by herself up in that tower she lived in with her Nan.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m not used to someone takin’ what’s mine. I won’t let it start now.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got ta be kiddin’ me. The whole reason that yer protectin’ her is you don’t like the idea of someone havin’ somethin’ that you can’t.”
“Yes,” I said, “what’s wrong with that?”
“Declan, you can’t get everythin’ in life.”
“I’m---”
“If you say that you’re the future King one more time, I will punch ye.”
“But it’s true,” I said, “why shouldn’t I have her?”
“Because ya don’t even know if she wants you, or if you want her.”
“But I do want her.”
“Because you’re in love with her, or because since she’s a servant, you see her as someone you own?”
I scowled. “What are ya sayin’, Berkshire?”
“Ruling someone doesn’t mean that you own someone, Declan. Them bein’ a servant doesn’t mean that she’s yers.”
“Then, what is she ta me?”
“That’s up to her ta decide.”
“I don’t like that,” I said, “what if she doesn’t like me back?”
“Then you have to let her go.”
“But I’ve never had to let anyone go before. I’ve never not gotten somethin’ before. I don’t even know if Fiona likes me. She always just does as she’s told, because that’s what her Nan taught her.”
“What did her Nan teach her?”
“It’s somethin’ she always says. ‘Do as the royals tell you’. If I tell her she’s mine, she’ll just be mine. If I give her the option…”
“She might not be yours,” said Oliver, “but at least you’ll know that she wants you for you, and not because you’ve ordered her to.”
“How do I make her…how do I want to make her be mine without orderin’ her?”
Oliver grimaced. “Declan, you’ve never forced yourself on someone have you?”
I made a face. “Why the f*****g hell would I do that? I’m not a Prince, Oliver. Not a monster.”
“Just checkin’,” he said, “I thought we were goin’ ta have ta have a conversation about consent, and that’s a whole other issue.”
“I’m not an i***t. I would never do anythin’ like that. I respect women and their choices. But I’ve never had to make anyone like me or make someone fall in love with me. They usually simply are. You even know that I was Kenna’s first crush.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yes, and we’re goin’ ta forgive my sister for her faults and loss of good sense because she was young. But if ya want Fiona to be yours, you’ve got ta win her over.”
“How?” I asked.
“Flirt with her,” said Oliver, “get to know her. Show her the real you. Don’t just tell her she’s yours.”
“It’s a lot simpler that way though,” I said, “and she didn’t object, you know.”
Oliver sighed. “God, I’m goin’ ta have ta commit murder for ya at some point aren’t I?”
I smirked. “Probably at some point in our lives, yes.”
“I hate you.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Buck up, mate. We’ve got all of the privilege and excess in the world we could possibly want in exchange for it.”
“Ah yes. It is the small things, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the small things.”
- Writer
