𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 - Book 1

~Chapter 18~

                                                                                        Leonor

     I laid in my bed and cried that night. I wasn't sure what had happened.

     I was terrified when he had told me how he really felt. I was happy, really. I should have told him right then and there, or I wouldn't be crying right now.

     But something in me stopped myself.

     I hated myself for that.

     I was cuddled in a ball of sheets and blankets in bed, rubbing my tired eyes. I had told Chloe everything that had happened. She had been a little shocked, I could tell. She told me that I would get another chance, and that everything would work out in the end.

     I didn't know if I would get another chance at all.

     I should have told him I felt the same way. Things would be a lot different if I had.

     He hadn't even messaged me since last night. Not like I expected him to, but it would have given me another chance to talk to him.

     So here I was, a crying mess in my bed. Not a great look for a princess.

     All I knew was that I messed everything up. He probably wouldn't trust me now; he had just revealed that he had feelings for me. I had stood there, staring at him like a lost puppy. So immature of me.

     I groaned into my pillow and shifted a little. I had to figure out how to tell him for real this time. I didn't think I could wait any longer to fix my mistake.

    I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up a few hours later to my mother shaking me awake. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at me worriedly. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes as I sat up.

     "Is something wrong, honey?" She asked me quietly.

    I just shook my head.

     "Breakfast will be ready soon," my mother soothed, standing to her feet and leaving my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

     I slowly got out of bed, chugging the rest of my ice water and brushing my hair in the mirror. I just dressed into a casual outfit, a plain cream-colored shirt and leggings. I brushed my teeth and applied some perfume before silently slipping down the stairs.

     My mother and father were sitting at the table, speaking quietly to each other. Sofia was fixing herself a plate, and she looked up when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

     She gave me a worried look when she saw my tired eyes, but she held her tongue until I sat down beside her with my own plate. Breakfast consisted of waffles, fresh fruit and bacon. It was delicious; our cooks never disappointed.

     "How was Chloe last night?" Sofia asked, cutting into her waffle.

     "She was fine," I said through a mouthful of fruit. She eyed me up and down.

     "Is something wrong?" She questioned me.

     "I guess you could say that," I laughed to myself. Sofia glanced at our parents, who were busy conversing themselves. Then, she looked back at me and prompted me to talk.