The Original Lamelo Ball Imagines | Book 1

A prince made for a princess

"You do realize you have to get married if you want to be the next heir to the thrown? Right?" My mother nagged following me to my closet.

"How could I forget." I mumbled rolling my eyes.

Of course I knew this. She's given me this speech every other day since my father, the King of Morocco, got terribly sick.

"What about Prince Christopher? He's a handsome looking boy and he's from right here in the Moroccan Kingdom."

I rolled my eyes once more, thrashing through all my dresses.

Just thinking about the Princes in the kingdom made me agitated.

You see I don't like any of the Princes in the Moroccan Kingdom because they are all snobs and they feel as if they have the right to be, just because they are born nobles.

Me, I'm a humbling person and I do not want to deal with anyone who feels as if they're better than anyone just because of their social class, but finding a Prince that thinks like I do here is next to impossible.

"Why must I get married? What if I don't want to?" I shrieked plopping down onto the nearest ottoman hopelessly.

"Because, your father wants to create a dynasty. He would like for the family legacy to carry on and if you don't get married that means you won't have any children and the throne will be given to the next!"

"So he's just worried about his dynasty, rather then his daughter's happiness?" I looked up at my mother while she shook her head clearly frustrated with my stubbornness.

"Neveah, please just think about it." She caressed my hair, fixing the out of place curls. "I'm sure you'll find the one you're going to like tonight at the ball. Now get ready it starts in a hour."

"I won't like any of them. I'm telling you!" I insisted as she walked away giving me peace.

To be honest I wasn't really sure if I even wanted to rule the Kingdom. Why couldn't they just give it to my little sister, yeah she was only 8 but so what? I'm sure she'd be a way better ruler than me!

I stood in front of the mirror bobbing my head to the music downstairs. It could be heard from all over the castle. Shit, probably all over the kingdom.

"Where the shiesha? Looking for a thick bitch named Keisha." I rapped along to my favorite song. That American music went too crazy.

My mini concert was interrupted by a faint and barely audible knock on my door.

"Come in." I spoke softly while flattening the creases on my dress.

"Wow, my baby looks so amazing." My best friend, Yareli, complimented while wiping away a few fake tears.

I couldn't help but laugh at her silliness.

"Oh shut up!" I said while throwing a tiny pillow at her. "Where's Yajiara?" Yajiara was Yareli's twin sister.

"She was downstairs trying to flirt with one of the servants." Yareli being the dramatic person she is, pretended to barf.

"What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing, it's just she has poor taste in men. Kinda like you." She joked.