The Next Selection: Ladies of Illéa

Chapter 12

Leaving the dining room, I broke off from the group and headed up the stairs, unnoticed. My flats sunk into the plush carpet as I walked quickly to my room. I opened my door and let out a relieved sigh when I found it empty. The light shone through the windows, making the space bright and open. It was such a large room. I glanced around until I found my computer. Picking it up, I went to sit cross legged on the bed. It was nice to have this piece of home with me, and I powered it up. I was pleased to find that the palace had wifi, and that I was already connected. Clicking the message icon, I found that Tatum had already sent me something.

Tate: Hey, how's it going Di?

I quickly typed out a reply.

Diana: It's hectic. So many girls! I feel so out of my element here.

Almost as soon as I sent it, there were typing bubbles, indicating Tate was on.

Tate: And somehow you feel in your element when you're off in a foreign country?

Diana: Yes. I can handle wild animals and strange customs, but this many people? No way. Practically the entire royal family is here, not to mention all the girls, maids, and guards. I feel like I was sent to prison for a crime I didn't commit. 

Tate: Lol. I'm sure you'll get used to it by the time the numbers dwindle. Anyhow, have you met the prince yet ;D

I sat there, staring at the screen, deciding what to write.

Diana: Yes, climbing the palace walls.

It took a moment before Tatum replied. I probably caught him off guard, which made me smile.

Tate: Wow. How can you say you're out of your element? It sounds like a jungle to me 

At that, I laughed. There was a crash outside my balcony. Startled, I told Tate that I'd be right back, and went to investigate. There, sprawled out across the floor of my balcony, was Prince Milo. He had knocked over a small table that once held a vase full of flower, which now laied shattered beside him. He looked up at me, with a light blush. 

"Lovely evening we're having," he asked, very gentlemanly, as if he wasn't lying on the floor, glasses ascue. 

"Oh yes, quite. Although I believe there is a chance of raining princes. Hope it won't ruin the day."

He chuckled and stood, brushing tiny shards of glass off his suit. At a small wince, I stuck out my hand. 

"What?" he questioned innocently. 

"Let me see," I said in a no nonsense way. Sighing, he allowed to look at the cut on his palm.

"It's not a big deal," he hedged. "I'll be fine." 

Ignoring his protests, I pulled him into my room, towards the bathroom. Instructing him to wash off the cut, I went over to my bag, pulling out a small circular tin and I thought back to how I got it.