Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Ersovia.”
I glanced over to him again. And he pretended to scroll through his phone.
“You are holding the Prince of Ersovia captive. Do you know how crazy that sentence is? My mother kidnapped a prince!”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. He came of his own free will,” she said.
“Well, not exactly,” he muttered.
“Either way, Mom”—I groaned, suddenly exhausted—“just come open the door.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve already called the building manager and staff. There is something wrong with it. They’re working to fix it, so just hold tight. It’s not like you turn back into a maid at midnight.” She had the audacity to joke, and he had the audacity to snicker.
And I knew she was lying! “Mom, if you do not open the door, Prince Charming will end up like Humpty Dumpty,” I said, glaring at him.
He glanced up at me, his eyebrow raising.
“I’ll take that chance, Ms. I-Must-Break-For-Squirrels.” She laughed at me. She freaking laughed at me. “But before you make scrambled eggs out of him, offer him some food. He’s been traveling all morning, and then I dragged him around for his costume.”
“I’m not doing—”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I have to go. We’re getting to the fundraiser. The car will come back for you later. Bye, love you!” And she hung up.
I stared at the phone in shock.
No way.
There was no way this was really happening! Things like this didn’t happen in real life. There had to be some way...
“May I speak now or—”
“The front desk!” I snapped my fingers at him, grinning as I started to dial. It rang only once before someone answered.
“Good evening, Ms. Wyntor. How may I help you?”
I stood up straighter, calming myself, and put a smile on my face. “Hello, hi. There is something wrong with my front door. I’m unable to get out. I was wondering if someone could please come and fix it for me.”
“Of course, Ms. Wyntor. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. Please hold,” she said, and I smiled, nodding proudly as I walked about the front entrance.
It was only when I turned and found him watching me that I remembered he was there, like a ghost. Spinning back around, I faced the door.
“Ms. Wyntor?”
“Yes, I’m here,” I said politely.
“It seems your mother has already called maintenance, and they said they are currently working on the issue.”
How is this happening! What did she do, bribe them?
“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth before hanging up. “Bravo, Mom. Bravo.” Breathe. I’ll just talk to him calmly. “So, it seems like...” I trailed off as I turned around only to see he wasn’t there anymore. I stepped forward, but he was just gone. “Where the hell did he go?”
“I’m here.” A hand popped up from behind the couch. “I beg your pardon, but I’m exhausted.”
Walking up to it, I peered over to find him lying on it, his eyes closed. The first things I noticed were how long his eyelashes were and how smooth his face seemed to be, his hair styled, too. He looked...perfectly princely.
Well, that’s what he is. But...ugh, never mind—
“You were saying?” His eyes opened, staring up at me.
I jumped back.
“Relax. I’m not going to murder or rape you.” He frowned, closing his eyes again.
Right, he’d heard that. “Uhh... I was just saying that because my mom is a bit—”
“Crazy?”
“Don’t call her that!” I snapped.
“Didn’t you?”
I frowned. “She’s my mom, so I can, but you’re—”
“Her future son-in-law?” he replied, a smile on his lips.
“As if! How can you even joke about that? Better yet, how can you just come here? Don’t you have prince stuff to do?”
He chuckled, the corner of his lips turning up, but he refused to open his eyes. “Marrying who you are told to marry is prince stuff.”
“What is this, 1808?” I frowned. “You can’t just force people to marry each other.”
“That is what I said. Then they reminded me I’m not a person—I’m a prince. I’m property of the crown, and the crown requires I marry a very rich woman. You are that woman. So, whether I like it or not, I was ordered to come to this...fabulous country where I can be talked down to at the border, dragged shopping by a mother for a costume I did not want to wear for a holiday I dislike, then told to shut up by her daughter before being forced to sleep on a couch,” he stated.
A small twinge of guilt rose inside me.
“Welcome to America. The land of equality...well, sort of,” I replied.
He opened his mouth to say something, but all of a sudden, his stomach growled, and then he shut his mouth again. I tried not to laugh.
“She really didn’t offer you food?”
“If the she you are referring to is your mother, then no, she didn’t. She said we needed to hurry for me to get this ridiculous costume.” He frowned again.