𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
.・゜゜・
𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐃'𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 -
She's the rebellious princess of Italy. Finding herself in an arranged marriage, she does everything to fight for her freedom. However, a certain bodyguard...
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"I love you," she said.
No.
"Please don't look," she begged.
Those were her last words. And it was all my fault.
They put a bag over my mother's head just for the fun of it. And then they shot her with a musket, and to top it all off, her clothing erupted into flames. I watched her writhe around on the ground in sheer horror.
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊ ˚✧ ﾟ.
I gasp sharply, shooting up out of sleep. My hands started shaking after that nightmare about something I tried to keep hidden from my mind for a long time. And now my dreams have been invaded by memories.
I need coffee.
Wandering into the dark corridors of the palace, I pass by Princess Elena's room. For a moment, I just stood there, feeling protective. But she's sleeping. Nothing bad can happen there.
With a sigh, I start to make my way to the palace kitchen. It looks as empty as it did on the day that the princess and I snuck into the kitchen. The stove light is on, which allows me to see the coffee maker sitting on the counter.
Opening the pantry, I grab some espresso packets and use the espresso machine to make the coffee. When it's finally done, I allow the mug to cool for a bit while leaning against the kitchen island.
"You're up late," the voice I recognize as Elena's says from behind me.
Shit.
"You're up too," I comment, not looking back at her. Even with that, I can still feel those captivating blue-green eyes of hers staring at me. I'm surprised she's not sleeping.
The princess chuckles softly, and before I know it, she's right beside me. Her eyes darted to the mug in my hand. "Coffee at night?"
My muscles tense, and I swallow a lump in my throat. She doesn't need to know the full reason why I'm drinking coffee to keep me up at night rather than just falling asleep. "Nightmares," I answer simply. "Couldn't sleep."
I finally sneaked a glance at Elena. She's wearing a lavender silk pajama set, and her honey-brown hair is slightly messy. I can see the hints of curl from its recent braiding. Her face is free of makeup, but that doesn't make her any less beautiful. In my opinion, she doesn't even need the makeup—she's naturally pretty, as all women are.
With a deep sigh, the princess leans back on the counter next to me. Her head is tilted toward the slide as she looks up at me. It's like she's examining me. Trying to find out what's really happening. But I don't let up. My face is completely blank, devoid of any emotion.
