Chapter 5

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"I think the real issue here is that you clearly want me to be attracted to you. Now why would you, your royal hotness, care about the opinion of a lowly maid such as myself?" I responded. His smug expression dropped.

"You can call me Prince Coleman," he snapped.

"Yes, Prince Coleman."

I could feel his gaze on me as I placed his dirty clothes over my arm to take to the laundry room. As I began to head out, the Prince's booming voice interrupted my path.

"Wait!"

I sighed and stepped back into the room. "Yes your highness?"

"Didn't I just tell you to call me Prince Coleman?"

"Sorry."

"No matter. 'Your highness' works as well. Now I want you here at 12:00 sharp with my lunch. And I mean it!"

"Yes, Prince Coleman," I answered. Suddenly I was pelted in the face with some heavy fabric.

"This blazer I was wearing smells weird. Go have it washed, little maid," he ordered.

Little maid?!

"It doesn't smell weird to me," I muttered, my words muffled by the fabric on my head.

"Did you say something?" the Prince asked.

"No," I lied, removing the jacket from my face. "I shall see you at 12:00, Prince Coleman."

"You had better!" he shouted as I walked down the hall. I couldn't believe that such a man was actually a prince. Weren't they supposed to be charming and endearing? While he certainly looked the part, his personality was so abhorred that it negated any level of attraction I might have felt toward him.

I supposed I wouldn't be joining the "fan club" for Prince Coleman, though I considered creating one for his butler, who in my mind was his superior in almost every way. I bitterly dropped off the clothes at the laundry section and meandered to the kitchen. Why was it only 11:00? I still had half a day left. I had only been here for four hours and I was already tired of my new job.

"Hello," I said to a staff member in the kitchen. "Prince Coleman is to eat his lunch at 12:00. What does he normally eat?"

"What's it to you?" asked a kitchen hand.

"Well, I'm his personal maid, apparently." The horror.

"You? I've never seen you before," an approaching man said, wearing a heavy apron with a smudge of frosting smeared on his cheek.

"I'm new," I explained. "My name is Cassie Carmichael."

"Well Miss Cassie, I'm Jonathan, the head chef here, and you must be a stellar maid if you're new and you're already the personal maid to the Prince." The cook spoke with a rich voice full of that nice Aregano accent.

"Oh, I think he just hates me and that's why I'm his maid."

"Hates you?! Why on earth would he hate a cute girl like you?" Chef Jonathan chuckled.

I flushed a little, and noticed that Jonathan wasn't all that bad looking, though his hair was consumed by a chef hat.

"Well because I yelled at him," I informed Jonathan.

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