Enamored

Chapter One

My head is cloudy in the way a person would feel waking up from a night of heavy drinking. Because apparently lust can make a person equally as drunk. 

I'm wearing the same maroon dress I was yesterday. The skirt is wrinkled and there are dents in my skin from where my jewelry was pressed in throughout the night.

My lips taste sweet, running my tongue over them sucking up the succulent taste I realize they're swollen. Swollen from a night of kissing. 

From kissing Sasha. 

At some point, we had made it from being pressed up against the wall of my study to being pressed up against the top of my sheets. 

I don't remember much, but I remember her falling asleep next to me. Her mouth shining and her eyelashes fluttering when she finally gave in to exhaustion and let her lids shut. Next to her, I laid, falling asleep quickly thereafter.

But now as I look around my room Sasha is nowhere to be found. No in my bathroom, my study, or even the parlor. Nowhere. 

This has never happened to me before. I can't remember a time when I woke up and there was no one around. There has always been a nanny telling me what to do or where to go. Once I was older there was always Kennedy drawing the blinds, starting a shower, or fixing me a glass of water while they read me my agenda. 

But now there is no Kennedy, there is Sasha. And Sasha is nowhere to be found. 

I don't know what to do.

On a normal day I would bathe, pick out my outfits for the day, then attend to my make-up and hair, and then once all those were done I would go off to breakfast. But I can't do any of those things without assistance. I've always had someone helping me. 

At a loss for what to do I decide on picking out my outfit. A black pencil skirt and a large grey wool knit sweater with white heels. As I mindlessly flick through my collection of shoulder bags the knob to my door clicks and it swigs open. 

"Finally," I sigh, swiveling around. "I was beginning to wonder if I needed to send for...  You're not Kennedy. 

The servant standing in my doorway is not Sasha. They couldn't even pass for Sasha if they tried. This servant is short and stout, all things that Sasha is not. Even the way they stand is different, so reserved and closed off. After falling into a deep bow they settle with their hands clasped behind their back. 

"Indeed, Princess," They say. "As of this morning servant Kennedy fell dreadfully ill and is unable to attend to their regular duties today. I am here as a replacement until Kennedy is well. My name is Hickelshire."

Am I going to be sick because I kissed Sasha? Do I have whatever illness she has?

"Very well," I say when another thought strikes me between the eyes. Is Sasha avoiding me? Before I can let myself react I list off what I need from Hickelshire. "I need my shower started and then all of my diamond jewelry gathered."

"Right away Your Highness." They say bustling about and away to my bath chamber. 

I decide that a shoulder bag will be unnecessary for today and have my closet deliver my clothes before entering the bathroom myself. 

Hickleshire stands waiting as I enter. Pulling my hair down from the messy ponytail I must have thrown it in at some point I reach for my zipper, stopping mid-movement when I realize the servant hasn't moved. 

Sasha watching me undress is one thing, I haven't a clue who this person is. I would like to keep my breasts my business for the time being. 

"You may go now." I offer with a slight edge.