Forever A Never After

Carriage Ride

Ashlyn

An hour had passed. An hour of the prince packing up my things, manhandling me and ignoring each protest which sprung to my lips.

I was currently sitting on a pillow that had the fullness of overindulgence. While it otherwise may have been a welcoming shade of midnight blue, all I could see when I had first cast my eyes upon it, was an explosion of garish hearts that appeared to have been stitched on with great haste. I took in a deep breathe, attempting to calm my frayed nerves. Instead, my nose was assaulted with a saccharine smell. The cloying scent of roses and burnt sugar clung to the air. Suddenly, the prince set a horrifying hand on my thigh.

I clenched my knuckles and watched as they turned white in my effort not to swing my fists at him in a friendly introduction to my left hook. My rigid posture exuded an air of animosity that was akin to acid: burning, minacious, deadly.

"Move. Your. Hand." I spat out, my words tainted by the venom behind my voice.

His hand travelled further up my thigh.

"The other way!" Was he born this dense or did he take lessons? "Please keep your hands to yourself!", I continued. After all, who knew where else they had been?

He looked up at me, finally retracting his hand, his face washed blank with confusion, the cogs in his brain unable to turn fast enough to process the fact that someone wouldn't be overjoyed by him invading their personal space without his consent. Every muscle of his body was frozen until a cocky grin crept onto his face and he relaxed, back resting against his seat with his legs crossed, oozing self-entitlement.

"If you are worried that you don't meet my standards then, honey, then your concern is touching. But, since we are to be married, you don't have to fret about me. You should spend your time worrying about your eyebrows instead."

I stared at him, mouth agape. I narrowed my eyes, deciding to be the better person and ignore his petty jab, before persisting, "Your Highness, do you remember when I asked to be a princess? Me neither. So-"

"Darling," he cut in, "I know you must be worried about the night after our wedding, but you have no need to tire your pretty little head. We will have plenty of practice before then." He finished with a flourish and a wink.

I opened my mouth, face burning with indignation. My words danced at the tip of my tongue, my shield, and my sword; they were the gathering of clouds before a deadly storm. The ball should have come with a warning label.

"What a lovely story your highness. But in what chapter do you crash back down to reality? You should be careful; your words are filled with so much poo that you may accidentally make your toilet jealous."

He looked at me, his features painted with a look of bemusement and bewilderment, not comprehending what I had said. At least my secrets would always be safe with him. He would be too busy listening to the sound of his own voice, instead of pausing to hear me. Or better yet, like in this case, he would misunderstand me completely.

"There won't be much time for reading in the palace" he replied, brows furrowed, before resuming his listless chatter which had begun from the moment he arrived at my home this morning. If I had wanted to hear from an asshole, I would just fart.

I took a few calming breaths before spending the remaining of the carriage ride imagining him a personality. It was not easy. I don't think I will ever forget the time we first met (that time being today as I am certain I never even danced with him at that blasted ball). Nevertheless, that didn't stop me from trying.

So, everyone, here is Ashlyn. I hope you liked her. She's an... interesting sort to stay the least. I'm glad I'm not on her bad side. If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it an upvote and if you have any suggestions or feedback, do let me know. Have a Wonderlandiful day! xxx