Princess by chance

3

                  Dedication : Aang151Rron
Camilla POV

"Hey," I said, utterly shocked by the sudden entrance.

"Where have you been, bestie? You made me, Princess Aliyah, your best friend and partner in crime, cry," one of them expressed, hugging me. Right, Princess Aliyah.

"Shut up, Aliyah. She made Princess Kamzi cry. I had to travel all the way from Africa when I heard you're back," the other one chimed in. That must be Kamzi.

The last one scrutinized me, sensing something amiss. "You look different; something feels off," she observed.

"Mariana, can't you just welcome our dear friend?" Kamzi interjected.

"What's my favorite color?" Mariana asked abruptly.

"Hmm, purple?" I guessed, as it seemed like a popular choice among princesses.

"I'm out; this one is fake," Mariana declared, storming out.

Feeling a pang of guilt, I started fake crying. "After a whole year of being missing, this is how she welcomes me?" I whimpered. Aliyah and Kamzi hugged me again, but underneath the charade, guilt lingered.

"Don't mind her; now let's party in your room," Kamzi declared, dragging me along with Aliyah in tow.

"Take my phone, put on our favorite music," Aliyah instructed, handing over her phone. My hope for a password-free phone was crushed.

"Hmm, password. What's the password?" I asked, feigning forgetfulness.

"You don't remember?" Kamzi exclaimed.

"I kinda forgot," I lied, trying to play along.

Aliyah, seemingly unbothered, dove into reminiscing, "The day you, Kamzi, and I had that wild mission with Prince Charles, uncovering juicy secrets to bring down their kingdom. It was a success, and now we have another mission coming up next month."

"When was that again?" I laughed, secretly relieved that my fabricated past hadn't led me into compromising situations.

"How about you open it?" I handed the phone to Kamzi, who effortlessly unlocked it and started playing some lively music.

Aliyah produced alcohol and cigarettes from her bag, distributing them to Kamzi and me. They launched into dancing, twerking, and hugging me while indulging in smoking and drinking. I opted to dance silently, resisting the allure of the drink.

"Come on, don't be a party pooper; we brought your favorite drink," Kamzi encouraged. That reminder prompted me to abandon my initial hesitation. I opened the alcohol, downed it in one gulp, and started smoking and dancing along.

Amidst the pulsating beats and laughter, Aliyah dropped a bombshell, "The new mission, Prince Dickson," still dancing to the rhythm. The revelry continued, and for that fleeting moment, my fabricated identity allowed me to immerse myself in a world of stolen camaraderie and clandestine missions.

"Don't spoil the fun now, bitch; let's talk about it tomorrow, after Daisy's welcome party," Kamzi declared, and I smiled, still dancing. It was the first time I felt confronted without anger or memories of my past.

We continued dancing, chatting about the clandestine mission, when a charming guy swung the door open. Spotting me, he rushed over for a hug. "Daisyyyhy," he grinned.

Curious, I asked, "Who's this?"

"Your brother, duh! The one who always loves to get in every girl's panties, Jake," Aliyah clarified.