Maid For You

Chapter 2

The next afternoon, after a teary parting with my parents, I flew into Aregano with no complications. I was an Embryian girl, true and true, but my mom and dad highly encouraged me to live out of the country for at least a year before settling down somewhere, and were even helping to fund this extended trip. I loved Embryia—it was my home—but after living my whole 22 years in the country, I wasn't opposed to living abroad for a year, and the country Aregano was a beautiful place. Or at least, so the internet told me. With the help of a knowledgeable taxi driver, I arrived to my new apartment in Aregano's capitol, Wethercross. As I stepped out of my cab, the apartment complex's shabby exterior immediately concerned me.

"It's probably better inside." I hoped that saying so would make it so. I signed in at the front desk and bravely marched upstairs to my room, praying for the best. Fearing the worst.

It was appalling.

Not only was my apartment tiny and windowless, but the floor was crooked and the smell musty. It looked nothing like the picture online, and I was furious. I bounded downstairs and approached the front desk, trying to take in deep, calming breaths.

"Excuse me," I started, my voice clipped. "I just went into my apartment, and I think I got the wrong one. The apartment I purchased had windows." I wanted to believe that they simply gave me the wrong key.

"What's your room number?" the woman at the desk asked. She had a lovely Aregano accent that was wasted on her smoker voice.

"25B, but it's nothing like—"

"If that your room, then that's your room."

"My room has windows!" I insisted. I didn't want to live in some dark, crummy little place for a year.

"You must have accidentally looked at one of the other rooms online," she told me.

"No, I didn't." I clenched my teeth for a moment. "I checked, and I double checked, and I triple checked and found that this place was not only a great price, but that the apartment looked rather nice. My place and the place in the picture look nothing alike." I didn't know whether to scream or cry, but my throat started to close up.

This can't be happening.

She merely looked at me and blinked. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I need you to give me the apartment that I paid for!"

"25B?"

"No, the apartment that was in the picture!" I cried.

"Sorry, the apartments pictured are on the website are all full," she drawled.

"You mean you falsely advertised my apartment?!" My impending tears turned to anger. This was dreadful. I couldn't live in some dingy piece of crap for a year! I mean, technically I could, but I didn't want to!

"Look, if you want a refund for what you've already paid for, I'll give you a refund," she sighed.

I sat a moment, trying to decide what to do. "Fine, I'll take the refund," I responded venomously. I was scammed, and I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of taking my money! They tricked me into buying this place, and I would rather find another place in the middle of nowhere in Aregano where there were no tourist sites than live in this crap hole!

The lady sat agape by my answer, but she refunded me my money. I stormed out from that lousy apartment complex and began to wander the streets of the unfamiliar city in the unfamiliar country; jobless, homeless, and lugging around two fat suitcases and a purse.

What am I doing? Fear began to curse my pride. I shouldn't have just walked away from my source of shelter, no matter how crappy it was. I'm in an unfamiliar country with no job and no home. What am I going to do?! The tears now began to fall, and I tried to wipe them away on my sleeve.

I slouched down into a bench by the sidewalk and mindlessly stared at the cars driving by, indulging in self-pity, unsuccessfully trying to suck my tears back into my eyeballs. My interest was piqued for a moment when a long, glossy black limousine cruised on by. I stared into its dark windows, wondering what lucky duck got to sit in such a luxurious ride. Meanwhile I was practically a homeless hobo sitting on a bench. I watched wistfully as the limousine rounded to the block. Only a minute later did another limo appear, or perhaps it was the same one circling around. The limo stopped at the curb right in front of me, and I found myself sitting up straighter, as though whoever sat inside was scrutinizing my pathetic predicament. As the limo sat there for a full minute, a small crowd grew, and shrieks of girlish delight broke through.

"IT'S PRINCE COLEMAN!"

Prince Coleman? He must be their Prince. I deduced. Is he in that very limo?

"Are you sure it's him?" a girl squealed.

"Look at the flags on the limo!"

"Prince Coleman! Hi!"

The view of the elegant car was blocked from me as fangirls crowded around. Someone crashed into my luggage laid out before me and cursed me for getting in the way.

"You crashed into me!" I snapped. Bitterly, I snatched the handles of my suitcases and walked away from the scene of commotion. Besides, nothing was getting accomplished by sitting on a bench. No, I would not be a hopeless case. I would rise up and make the best of my year abroad.

As if providence struck, I felt a firm tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a gorgeous young man dressed in formal attire. My mouth dropped.

"For you."

I barely heard him over the crowd. He handed me a crisp white note and disappeared as quickly as he came back into the mass.

I stood dumbstruck for a moment, suddenly holding a note with a fancy insignia printed on it. Most people would anxiously open the note, but I was more interested in the beautiful messenger.

"Wait!" I called after the man. I tried to chase after him, but I was surrounded by legions of girls.

"What does it say?" Perfect strangers pestered me about my mysterious note.

"Well I don't know! Where did that man go?"

No one answered my question. As my personal space decreased from the crowd of young women surrounding me, my stress increased and I made a run for it, luggage and all. I burst into a deli shop and retreated into the back corner, away from prying eyes.

What was all the fuss over this letter? I opened up the note and began to read.