The Princess's Secret

The Armored Guard

"This is an outrage! An absolute outrage!" I scream into the door, as Nicholas continues to keep it shut.

"Well, darling, if you would stop screaming, I would let you out." He replies sweetly.

"You! Nicholas! Are an asshole! I demand to be let out this instant."

"You hold no power over me, Angelina." I can almost picture him, picking at his nails and leaning against the door, a smug smile on his face. So unprince like.

Why did I ever trust him? Why did I ever trust myself to let him in? I knew I wanted him, but damn, I thought I could have him the way I wanted.

Call me a selfish slut, but I wanted him.

"You know, it's a shame, that poor man probably was just going to help you." Nicholas replies patiently.

"What would you know about helping others, Nicholas?" I retort, letting him get the better of me again.

"As a matter of fact, Princess Angelina, I go to the homes less market everyday, helping my citizens."

"Yeah, probably to pick up your next victim." I mutter.

"Why would I pick up women there, when I clearly have enough volunteers here?" He replies snobbishly.

"If you value your life, Nicholas, I suggest you stop talking." I kick at my door, knowing fully well it can and will be replaced.

"We both know your father would never compromise the alliance with my family. That much is certain." And all of the sudden he opens the door, probably because of my late response.

He's right. My father, the king that everyone loved, would never allow my actions to cause a war. He would just make me apologize no matter what.

I feel tears roll down my cheeks, feeling like I have failed my father again, just like countless other times I have before now.

Like sleeping with Sir Drewleere, who was ten years older than me at the time of when I was fourteen. When I had killed Empress Frechesca's Siberian cat. Or when I punched Lady Romberth in the nose when she called my mother's prized antiques ugly.

I fall to my knees, covering my mouth with my hand.

All of those times, I felt as if I had failed my father. And now here was another failure to add to my list.

"Now, I will excuse your foul language if, you promise to never speak of our experience to anyone." Nicholas says, standing before me, hands clasped calmly in front of him.

"What? You can't be serious." I stutter in disbelief.

"I am one hundred percent serious. I don't need trash like you ruining my social status."

Trash like me.

Trash.

"I can't believe this. You better have a good reason for calling me trash." I demand, pulling myself up from my knees.

Nicholas roles his eyes, clearly annoyed with me. How dare he.

"I didn't think I needed to explain, but your trash, Angelina." He runs a hand through his cleanly slicked back, black hair.

I sit there in silence, waiting for him to explain why he thinks I'm trash. Which I don't quite understand. How could royalty be trash by any means?

"You sleep with guys you barely know for entertainment, your a snob, you treat your maids and guards like they are scum, so yes, Angelina. I think you are trash."