just fall | ✓

8.

Alexander and I stayed far later than he had planned, not leaving the house until the sun had almost completely dipped below the horizon. If dinner wasn't over by the time we left, it would be when we returned to the palace. Neither of us seemed to mind. We had talked all afternoon and evening, and we continued to talk on the ride back to the palace.

I had expected him to lead me back to my room, but after returning the horse to the stables, he led me a different way. We ducked through smaller corridors. At somewhere between 6'4 and 6'5, Alexander had to stoop down a little. He was holding my hand. I tried not to grin.

"These are generally for the servants," he said, "but I like to use them when I come back late. Saves me time."

He pulled me around a corner, and we stepped into the brightly lit kitchen. Every surface was white or stainless steel, and it made the faces of the staff look gaunt and washed out.

One of the chefs was a pretty woman with a mass of dark, curly hair tucked under a cap. She grinned at the prince and I. "Well, I was wondering when you might show up. Your mother told me to be expecting you, Your Highness." The longer I looked at her, the more I noticed, namely that she looked roughly the same age as the queen and that she had a motherly smile. "What would you two like to eat?"

Alexander rattled off some food that I wasn't familiar with, then pulled me over to a counter and helped me onto a stool. The chef went off to cook, moving around the kitchen with the help of a girl that looked just like her.

"The woman that we just spoke to is Honorata," Alexander explained. "She was in my mother's Selection, and moved to Angeles afterwards to pursue a cooking career. My mother hired her immediately. The woman with her is Laoise, her daughter. She wanted to begin cooking as well, and my mother didn't hesitate to give her a job, either. They cook and help train new cooks."

"Where are they from?"

"I believe Sonage, though it could've been Sumner," he said, "I'm not sure. Honorata didn't like it there."

"Understandable," I said, "I've heard it's horribly hot there."

"It's a dry heat," Alexander said. "Beautiful. The mountains are stunning, and it's incredible. I'd like to go again."

"When did you go?"

"When I was nine," he said, examining a fork. "I haven't been out of the palace since."

"You've been here nearly twelve years?"

He nodded. He continued to stare at the fork. "My father and my mother have gone, but not my brother and I."

I couldn't imagine being trapped here for so long. It made my skin itch to stay inside for a few hours; I couldn't imagine a few years. I thought that perhaps this place felt more like a beautiful, golden cage to the prince than a home. Maybe my upbringing wasn't quite so terrible. At least I could look up and see the stars whenever I wanted. The prince couldn't quite say the same, not without the palace lights blurring them out and not without guards standing at attention nearby. "I'm sorry," I said, "that sounds awful."

He shrugged. "It's what I'm used to. I can't imagine leaving now."

"That makes sense," I said. "I couldn't imagine living in a place like this before coming here."

We shared a look, realizing how completely opposite we were: Alexander would have given anything to escape his cage, while I would have done anything for a concrete place to call home. We both seemed to sense the fictitious divide that separated us, a dark and great chasm that kept my world from touching his. I wondered how we had happened along this almost-bridge.