Iridescent

Chapter 4

Stasia 

But alas, the prime issue in storming out of a ball with a dramatic flair is having someone follow you. This ultimately destroys one's innocent efforts in trying to regroup. And that follower just inevitably had to be the ever-loving Prince of Archone.

"Stasia!" He called behind me and I could hear him trailing closely. As a last-ditch effort in losing him, I kicked off my gold, silk heels and shoveled my dress up in my arms to head towards the rose gardens.

My hair piece was long gone, letting the braid that was once tucked in an elegant bun to toss down my back. I fought with loose hair around my face and longer strands strayed around my shoulders in messy curls as I staggered back and forth through the thicket of rose bushes. I knew the path within the maze well enough to lose him, but only if I could run fast enough.

"Wait!" He yelled from behind me and I entered the entrance of the tall hedges. Some bushes latched onto my arms, scraping my skin and making me hiss but I continued running.

What does a girl have to do to achieve some alone time?

I turned the corner, picking up pace and finally got ahold of some words to throw over my shoulder, "I don't wait for liars!"

"Technically," He entered the maze panting. "I didn't lie to you." From the sound of his voice, he was just a corner behind me.

I scoffed, "You withheld the truth." Picking up my dress and nearly causing my face to be very well acquainted with the stone path, I saved myself from more embarrassment and hugged the fabric to my chest.

"You asked me my name," His voice was closer than before, yet he remained to shout after me, pleading for me to stop running from him. He continued with what he was trying to say before, "And I told you!"

"Your name is Nikolai, not Kol," I shouted back just to hear a heavy, tired sigh behind me.

His long steps grew closer and he responded, "It's a nickname of sorts."

I rolled my eyes and gathered the insane weight of dress some more while countering, "And that inconvenient habit of not including a last name? Or the matter of you being a Prince? Perhaps, the little detail of you being the heir to the Archonian throne?" Turning to glance in his direction over my shoulder, I panted, noticing he was on my tail, and spat, "Seems like lying comes easy to you."

His hand met my shoulder, spinning me around. As much as I tried to fight, and move past him, he had successfully cornered me. "Would you let me speak to you?" He begged, "I've chased you down for crying out loud—it's the least I deserve."

"Oh, the least—"

He cut me off, "The reason why I failed to give you my name is because I didn't want to scare you away. I have heard about you—took note from others who have met you." Should I be impressed? "They say you were unimpressed by social status and I wanted to make a good first impression." He was breathing hard, as was I. My face was flushed from slight anger, but mainly from running in such a heavy dress. One could say that I worked off the truffle from earlier.

(On a side note, I was never going to run in a corset again—no matter the consequence.)

"You ruined this," I exhaled, crossing my arms over my chest with a frown.

He narrowed his eyes at my accusation with, "I did? How?"

"You are a Prince," I grit my teeth, throwing my dress down in distraught. "Not only a Prince," I paused gesturing towards him with an exasperated huff, "But the Prince." He furrowed his thick, dark eye brows and I realized he still looked fetching in confusion. Typical. "This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to just sit and look pretty through another ball—avoid bachelors and issues that are bound put a heavy rock on my hand. Not dance and converse with the Prince of Archone." Everything was tolerable until he came into the picture, asking me to dance and listening to my problems. "So, forgive me if I am not jumping for joy right now."