Her Majesty: A Selection Fanfiction (COMPLETE)

Six

   I arrived in the gardens feeling a little nervous. I couldn't get the humiliation of breakfast out of my head, though I tried to ignore it, and my nauseating  stomachache from all the food at breakfast wasn't helping. I glanced at the line of girls in front of me waiting to meet the prince: I recognized Yvonne, a dark skinned girl from Fennley, and Hayley, a pretty blond from Jammins from the Selection candidate sheets that had been given to me.

  "Hey, sweetie, you doing okay?" Yvonne asked me, looking worried. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," I breathed.

"You don't look fine," Hayley said. She stared at me. "Your face is really red. Are you sure that you're alright?" 

I nodded. "I'll be okay."

"What's your name, dearie?" Yvonne rested a dark hand on my shoulder.

"Harlow Davy. I'm from Kent."

Hayley took a step back. "Wow, Kent? I've never met anyone from that far away. I'm from Jammins, Yvonne's from Fennley. We met at the airport." Fennley and Jammins were next to each other in Illéa. Of course these girls would go to the same airport.

  "Next!" a guard yelled.

  Hayley stood up straighter. "I have to go," she said. "Say, do you maybe want to sit with us at lunch today? We'll happily let you join us."

  "That would be lovely."

   Hayley smiled and waved before following the guard into the gardens to where she would meet the prince. He was going to love her, I could already tell. Out of everyone I had met at the palace so far, Hayley and Yvonne had already shown me more kindness than everyone else combined.

  Yvonne and I stood awkwardly in silence. Two girls, a girl with caramel hair who I heard was from Yukon and a brunette with freckles from Atlin joined us as we waited, but they didn't speak either. Maybe we were all just nervous or maybe they were reviewing their battle plans. I was on the nervous side, but I was having trouble focusing with my stomachache. It had gotten worse.

   A guard came out to call Yvonne after several hours, or at least it felt like several hours. Knowing my impatient, hurting mind it had probably only been ten minutes, tops. I tapped my foot, hoping to draw my focus to the rhythm. It didn't work.

  By the time a guard called me to the gardens my nauseating stomachache was almost unbearable. I stumbled to the prince, tripping lightly over my mother's white pumps. I caught myself before I fell.

  I stepped past a tall hedge to see the prince. He was sitting on a stone bench by a little pond full of golden fish and water lilies. The bench was surrounded by colorful tulips and daisies. It was a picturesque scene. Before I knew what was happening, I was barfing all over it.

~~~~

  Prince Charles rushed over to grab my hair and hold it back. Though I was vomiting, I could feel his gentle hands as they made sure not to ruin my intricate braids. "Please, I may need help getting her to the hospital wing when she's done," he said calmly to a nearby guard. I never got to see the guard's reaction.

  As I finished, he carefully helped me stand, still holding onto my hair. "I am so sorry," I said, breathlessly. This was so humiliating! There was no way he could keep me here now after I'd basically puked on him! "Please, make it quick."

  Prince Charles looked confused. "Make what quick?"

  I blushed. He actually did look kind of cute then, especially after he'd held back my hair. He didn't look too disgusted. "The send-off. I don't want to worry my family."
  He gave me a goofy grin. "What do you mean, send-off? Darling, you aren't going home tonight for your own sickness."

  "What?"

  "Of course not! What kind of monster do you think I am?" I hated to think it, but before he held back my hair I had thought he was slightly shallow. You know, being a prince and all.

  I offered up a tiny smile. "Thank you. This really was very kind of you." I noticed a spot of throw-up on his priorly clean navy blue suit. "Oh no!"

  "What is it, dear?"

  I reached over and began furiously scrubbing it. "I'm so sorry, your highness!"

  He stared at me. I stopped scrubbing. I was touching a member of the royal family without permission. What was I thinking? I quickly dropped my hands. How many mistakes could I make in one day?

  He was still staring at me. I didn't know how to react to this. I could get executed for touching him like that. "Lady Harlow," he said, still staring at me.

   I swallowed. I didn't want to say anything and risk making more mistakes.

   He slapped his knee. "You are something else!" he choked out, laughing. He was laughing? How could he be laughing at a time like this? "I can't believe you just did that, but I love it," he said. "You have no idea how isolated it feels, not feeling like an actual human being, and in a span of two minutes you have managed to personally insult my power,"--I gulped--"puke on me, and make me laugh harder than I'd ever thought possible in my entire life." He was still laughing.

  "I am so sorry for that," I said.

  He placed a shaking hand on my shoulder, as he was still in fits of giggles. "Don't be. You are staying here, whether you like it or not. This may just be one of the most enjoyable moments of my entire life."

  I gaped at him. How could he say that? He had everything: food, power, a palace, an adoring public, and he was enjoying my presence? What was wrong with this boy?

  "Allow me to personally escort you the rest of the way to the hospital wing," he told me.

  "I'm fine," I replied. "It was just a food situation. I'm not ill or anything."

  "Nonetheless. It's better to be safe than sorry," he said. "I want you to be healthy. You're the first young woman in this grouping to actually spark an interest in me."

  I raised my eyebrows. "You know, when you say it like that you sound really snobby. Here you have thirty four other girls practically throwing themselves at you and all you care about is entertainent. That sounds like something a self-absorbed jerk would say." I immediately clapped a hand over my mouth. Why was I continually worsening my situation?

  Prince Charles grinned. "Brutally honest, too! I love it."

  I wrinkled my nose. "You make me sick."

  "Well obviously. I've just seen you vomit on me, love."

  We arrived at the hospital wing and Prince Charles took his arm away from underneath my elbow. "Thanks for the escorting and stuff," I said. "Please don't use anything I said against me, okay? I'm sick, remember? For my family."

  He chuckled. "When asked, I'll tell them that you've never been sicker than ever."

  "Thank you." I walked into the wing and gently closed he door behind me, falling back against it as soon as it was shut. Come to think about it, that meeting had been kind of funny.

~~~~