Chapter Four - By Royal Family Decree

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(Phillippe POV)

2 weeks later....

"Good morning, your Highness. Is everything alright?" My manservant, Francois asked me, a note of concern in his voice as he looked at me from across the room.

I found myself scowling heavily at the question, as I watched in silence as Francois went about opening the double doors leading into my walk-in closet and preceded to assemble my outfit for the day.

Moments later, Francois reappeared holding a light blue Giorgio Armani suit perfectly tailored on a hanger in one hand, a blue grey & black geometrically printed tie hanging from between clinched fingers of the same hand while in the other hand was a pair of black Italian leather loafers and a crisp white Eton button down shirt on a hanger hanging precariously on his thumb. I would have laugh at the sight if I had been in the mood. Francois looked like he was about to perform some kind of circus juggling act.

"I am fine, Francois." I finally replied back to him in French with a nod of my head as I studied the outfit that he presented to me from my seated perch on the edge of my bed. I sat there dressed only in my silken silver pajama pants and a robe half tied around my narrow waist haven just awoken less than 20 minutes ago. According to the large analog clock mounted over the fireplace in my bedroom, it was just now turning 1030 in the morning.

"Will this do, your Highness?" Francois inquired respectfully "For your luncheon with their..."

"Yes, it will be just fine. Thank you, Francois." I said immediately, cut him off. "If you will, please lay them out so that I can put them on after my shower. Oh, and you don't need to assist me. I will be dressing myself this morning. If you can, please ask one of the kitchen staff to please bring me a cup of coffee. A Café au lait sounds good, if you please." I added this part quickly when I saw the hesitation on my manservant's face when I said I would dress myself. After all, it was his duty to assist me.

"As you wish, my Prince. I will notify the kitchen staff of your request." Francois said with a courteous bow of his head before he moved to assemble my outfit on the suit rack in the corner.

I waited for Francois to finish and exit my room. The moment he pulled the door closed behind him, I found myself running my hands through my hair in frustration as I stood up from my seated position on the edge of the bed and rose to my full height.

"Merde!" I found myself muttering aloud on an exhaled breath into the silence of the room.

Ruffling my hand yet again through my now completely disheveled hair, I moved slowly towards the ensuite bathroom in the corner.

I was not by any means whatsoever thrilled about the events that I had to participate in today. In all actually, I was actually dreading it. But, as it was, my duties as a prince held precedence over my own feelings or thoughts.

My full name is Prince Phillippe Ethan Laurent Renaud, one of many royal princes in the principality of Monaco. My parents had requested my attendance at a special luncheon this morning; it seems they wanted to 'talk' again. Talking with my parents meant only one thing; having to sit through yet another lecture, the ones I have become accustomed to having every single time the racing season came around. Over what you may ask? Well not only am I a prince, but I also am a famed Formula 1 race car driver.

I have been driving in the Grand Prix for the past 10 years since the age of 17 and I am pretty damn good at it. I have won many races in my short and illustrious career. Anonymity is something I strive for or rather have strived for ever since I got into car racing. I have carried this ideology throughout other parts of my life as well and so far, it has been working in my favor. If they knew that I was a prince, I was pretty sure they would let me win instead of letting me win on my own merit. This was something I simply didn't want anyone to do. When I am not on the track, I am Prince Phillippe and to everyone on it, I am simply known by my alias, Ethan Laurent.

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