"You're annoying. You're a nuisance. How could I ever be obsessed with you?" I asked.
Philip's hand began to run up my thigh. "It seems like you're hiding your true feelings, your highness." He whispered in my ear.
"Fuck off, you peasant!" I should...
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PHILIP
The lights were set. The tables were perfect. The music vibed the whole room into a soft and sensual atmosphere. And most of all, the flowers were perfectly placed in the right spots. Places that I deemed right and perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better banquet hall.
“Wow, you outdid yourself, Mr. Bellerose.” Queen Anais said from behind me. I turned around and saw the queen in a light pink robe with curls in her hair. She’s getting ready for the ball.
“I was so afraid because it’s my first time taking on such a big project. But I think it looks good.” I said.
“It sure does. Even if Alaric doesn’t say anything, I’m sure he’ll be awed by everything as well.” The queen patted my shoulder.
“Still no luck on the therapy thing?” I asked.
“He claims he’s fine. But a mother knows best. I’m just trying what I can. Thank you for everything, Philip. Now go change.” The queen said.
“Wait? Change?” I asked her.
“Mhm. You really think I’m not going to let you attend the ball you designed? I’ll have someone escort you and get an outfit fitted for you.” She said. She signaled someone over, a butler.
“How may I help you, your highness?” He asked.
“Please escort Mr Bellerose to the fitting room. There’s someone there waiting for him.” The queen said.
“Of course, your highness. Right this way.” He signaled for me to follow him.
“Go on, Philip. I’ll see you later during the event.” The queen winked at me and began to walk away.
I’m still a bit confused. It’s not common for commoners like me to be invited to such events. It’s not that it’s some sort of classist thing. But because most of these events are for forming connections with other world leaders. So why would a florist need to talk to the King of England?
The butler led me through the castle walls and into a room I haven’t seen. The walls were lined with all types of fabrics and mannequins with all types of outfits were scattered.
“You must be Philip, right?” A voice asked. I turned and saw the silhouette of a woman behind a large piece of pink fabric.
“Y-Yes, ma’am. That’s me.” I replied. The woman walked and I finally got to see her.
She was a fair skinned woman who had deep dark eyes like a hawk. Her curly brown hair was tied up. Her outfit, despite being a designer, was that of a casual look. With gray sweats and a purple plum sweater.
