The Royal Finale - Annabelle and the King

Would you rather?

It was crazy how much could change in a year. Like, finding your own forever person, that you felt you'd known forever after a matter of months. Mom always said, when you know, you know. Annabelle knew. But, just like when Mom found Dad, it was complicated.

Annabelle was currently positioned in her favourite hiding place; one of the small meeting rooms along the corridor that ran from the main foyer of her Valtoria home. Here, she could just about squeeze herself into a small recess that was not visible from the door, should anyone open it to check if she was in here. It generally fooled everyone except dear old Christopher, who had maintained a dignified and much appreciated silence each time he'd discovered her here in the past.

Her phone pinged again, and she smiled as she saw the message pop up. MISS YOU, JELLYBEAN.

She beamed. Her secret boyfriend's pet name for her was too cute. She'd told him her story about her childhood nickname, and her dad's idea that if she ever got a tattoo it should be a bean, maybe a jellybean. That was definitely happening now when she turned eighteen, and now she had someone to go with her and hold her hand.

MISS YOU TOO. WISH YOU WERE HERE. WOULD MAKE THIS SHITSHOW OF A SO-CALLED SOIREE SLIGHTLY MORE TOLERABLE.

ONLY SLIGHTLY? WOW, THAT SMARTS.

SERIOUSLY, IT'S THAT BAD. MY DAD'S BEEN PASSING OUT HIS PRE-PRINTED 'KING FATHER' BUSINESS CARDS, AND AUNT OLIVIA'S ABOUT TO DECLARE WAR ON AUVERNAL BECAUSE QUEEN REENA'S WEARING A NEAR IDENTICAL DRESS TO HERS.

When she didn't get an immediate response, she followed up with a second message.

BUT WHAT REALLY SMARTS IS NOT BEING WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.

Putting her phone back into her clutch bag with a sigh, Annabelle gazed at the wall. She really, really wanted to tell everyone here about the amazing guy that had come into her life this year. But she couldn't tell anyone. They wouldn't understand. And even if they did, they'd probably tell her that he just wanted to be her King Consort, or that he was taking advantage because of the four-year age difference between them, or that she didn't know her own mind well enough.

Well, she did know her own mind. And she knew one thing. She didn't want this anymore. Any of this.

There was a sudden tap on the door, and Annabelle froze. She heard the door open, and footsteps she couldn't quite place approached her. She remained very, very still.

"I got you a Sazerac."

The tall, slim, brunette looking down at her indeed held an interesting looking cocktail in her hands, which she passed down to her.

"Micaela, you know I'm still only seventeen, right?"

"Annabelle, I know everything about you from your middle name to your shoe size. Now come on. You're in your own home, so it's perfectly legal. And nobody saw me come in with it, apart from your corgi."

"Ah." Annabelle had a moment of realisation. "Monty's waiting outside the door. That's how you found me."

"Got it in one." Micaela leant on one of the chairs. "You can't hide in here all night, you know. Your mom's already looking for you."

Annabelle exhaled. "How do you get through these sorts of functions back home? Everyone wanting to talk to you and make an impression on you and just be excited for you over something you're not even excited about yourself?"