Cover art by JenPotato
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Prince Bright Guntithanon is betrothed to Dara Kittiyangkul. Well, sort of bethrothed. She has the option to dissolve the union. But Bright is handsome, char...
I sit with my arms crossed across my chest watching as Prince Bright Guntithanon charmed the socks off Dara.
My best friend who has always been so uninterested in love and scoffed at people who treated getting engaged as an accomplishment was suddenly and insufferably so interested in the prince in front of her.
I don't get it.
I mean sure the man was alarmingly handsome. The kind that almost made me trip the moment he came into view.
Yes, we've all stared at his face on those special edition bills for a little too long that sometimes the cashiers get impatient and just snatch the money from our hands. I mean, that's normal.
But isn't his handsomeness too obvious? Too blinding? Who likes that?
Tss. I don't.
But maybe Dara does.
Didn't help of course that the first time they met, the Prince's abs were in full display.
I stop myself from rolling my eyes. Of course the handsome Prince has a hard chest, and veiny arms, and a flat muscled stomach. How typical. How absolutely boring of him to look so perfect.
I angrily shove a whole macaron into my mouth.
Prince Bright was clothed now. The handmaiden was tasked to find suitable clothes quickly and of course she did.
Prince Bright looked less ridiculous in a plain button down and chinos. But still ridiculous. Like a character from some starry eyed twelve-year-old's fantasy come to life.
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Why did Dara even need me here? They were obviously getting along well. And it's not as if I could give any input in their discussion about lawmaking and childhood summers at the Siene.
Look at him trying to sound all smart and articulate. As if he wasn't daft enough to have thought he was betrothed to me.
Goosebumps run up my forearm at the memory of him gripping my arms, looking me in the eyes, and calling me Dara.
Goosebumps of disgust!
I look over at the would be couple and assume none of them were going to need my attention any time soon. I fish my phone out of my pocket and start reading through my emails.
Yes, emails on a weekend. Such is the curse of a royal who needed to work to support his father and the family name. I was lucky that my mother had left all her wealth to me , making life so much easier when I turned 21. But the fact is, the upkeep of our home costs an arm and a leg and if I relied solely on my inheritance, I'd be a homeless royal in maybe ten years.
Dara would never allow that to happen of course. There is no truer friend than her. But I wasn't going to rely on her for money. I am clingy enough as it is.
Besides, I do like my job. I run a daycare center in one of the properties in my name. Seventy percent of the profits from that go to my family's daily expenses while the rest helps me subsidize schooling for orphans.
