Princess of Ayden

Chapter 6

Hillary

It was just another normal day; a Friday to be more specific. The next day would mark their one week stay in the royal household and would come with its own elimination. They were told etiquette classes were to begin that Sunday. If one of them was going to become a princess, she better act the part.
All the girls were lounging in the drawing room where the queen had yet to make an entrance. Hillary wondered what the queen did all day that she was too busy to meet with her potential future daughter in law.
Hillary was sitting with Sybil and another girl who sat between them at meals, Jessica Viljoen. They were all looking at a magazine; their only source of news since their electronics were taken away. Funnily enough, there was a quiz rating how compatible you were with Prince Charles based on personality traits. It was inspired by the competition in which they were currently taking part.
Just as they totalled Jess's score to be a whopping thirty-five percent, a footman entered the room, as was customary when a girl was going to be pulled out for a date. As one of the only girls who hadn't received a date yet, Jess held her thumb in her hand.
On the other hand, having not quite recovered from the death of Rachel Daye, Hillary was apprehensive when it came to anything concerning the prince. Jess held one of the bright purple plush cushions to her stomach and felt like she might be sick any moment. All of the anticipation and waiting was doing nothing good for her nerves.
The footman cleared his throat. "Hillary Abraham!"
Jess's heart sank but she smiled at Hillary all the same and did a little hand clap for her. But then the footman went on "Suzette Du Toit, Jessica Viljoen and Faye Wilson; you are instructed to get ready for a black tie evening event and meet the price at the main foyer at four-thirty." With that he turned around and walked out of the room, no further explanation provided.
Hillary and Jess exchanged a look.
"Why all four of us?" Jess asked, bewildered. Faye Wilson, who had already made herself unpopular with Hillary, overheard Jess' question and rolled her eyes.
"Don't you follow the social calendar of the year?" Faye asked, exasperated. The three girls in front of her all shared looks and shrugs. "Ugh! It's like living in a palace with a bunch of socially inept monkeys. The July Classic is this afternoon. You know, the biggest horse racing event of the year? The prince will be attending for sure. That's where he's taking us."
The girls shared another look of confusion. Sybil asked the question that was on all three of their minds. "But why does he need four dates to this event?"
Faye was more than happy to explain. "Because he represents the royal household. He can't be babysitting a date the whole night. Us who are invited can keep each other company while he deals with the diplomatic side of things tonight. Also, in a group, we'll be less shy when talking to diplomats or important people. But that's just my guess." She shrugged, flipped her hair over her shoulder and left the room; most likely to get a head start getting ready for the July Classic.
Jess and Hillary shared a shrug. They then both turned to Sybil and hugged her goodbye before leaving to get ready for the event. Sunny and Aashvi, Hillary's handmaidens, were already waiting for her when she entered her room. They had laid out a striking red floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline and a mermaid cut that would accentuate her figure.
"You guys!" Hillary squealed.
Her handmaids exchanged smirks. "Like it, do you?" Aashvi teased. "We think the prince will too." Sunny winked.
Who cares, Hillary thought. She had lost her enthusiasm for the prince the day Rachel died.
They squeezed Hillary into her gown and did her makeup and hair into a sophisticated up-do. She was ready to go and making small talk with her maids when there was a knock on her door.
"Come in," Hillary called out. A guard entered and informed her that she needed to follow him.
Hillary tailed him through the palace gates and to a limousine. The area was poorly lit and there was a slight drizzle that made Hillary stress for a moment about her hair. There she saw, waiting, were the three other girls and the prince looking slightly awkward, like no one quite knew what to say or do. Faye was in a, quite inappropriate, low-cut gown with a slit basically up to her hip.
When Hillary made eye contact with the prince he beamed at her. Why? She almost instinctively went to smile back at him, but she knew better. Hillary knew behind her charming smiles he was nothing but a murderer. He had sent Rachel to her death less than a week prior. So, no; the prince would receive no smile from Hillary.
She turned very purposefully away from him and smiled at Jess, who looked nice in a silver gown with a cut that mostly hid the fact that she was one of the larger contestants.
"Alright," the prince clapped his hands together, "now that we're all here, we should probably get off to the races," he said with a wink.
Is he always this awkward? Hillary wondered
She hadn't spent any time with him alone (not that she was complaining) and thought that, as a prince, he should be more composed than this. Maybe he was just a regular person after all. Just as there was pressure on the girls to perform, there was pressure on him, too, to choose the right wife.
They all slid into the Limo. Hillary found herself sitting next to the prince and across from Jess. She felt Prince Charles's eyes on her and squirmed in discomfort.
"Your Highness," Faye broke the silence in the limo, "do you have any horses partaking in tonight's races?" she batted her eyelids at the prince.
"Please, call me Charles. Or, if you'd like, Charlie. All of you." He insisted. "But yes, I have a few. My pride thoroughbred stallion, Stars and Stripes, is racing in the main event tonight. I'm looking forward to seeing how he will perform."
"Well, Charlie" Faye leaned forward to expose her front, while putting her hand on the prince's leg, "I'll be sure to place a bet on him. I have faith in your good judgement."
The prince gave her a small smile before shifting his focus to Hillary beside him. "What about you, Hillary? Do you have a good eye for a horse?"
Hillary forgot for a second who she was talking to and let her passion shine through. "Actually, I've been riding since before I could walk. My mom was a professional showjumper, so I've been around horses my whole life. Although I mainly ride dressage myself, I've always had an appreciation for racing."
Faye stared daggers into Hillary. The prince merely smiled.
"Ah, here we are." The car came to a halt. "The July Classic. We're expected in the royal box tonight," he addressed the ladies. "I'm counting on you to help me entertain foreign and domestic allies. You are to be on the best of your behaviour, am I making myself clear?" he demanded of the group. For the first time since Hillary had met him, he sounded like a future king.
"Crystal" Jess answered for the girls. The others nodded their heads in agreement. Charles, seeming content with this answer, opened the door of the limo and led the way to the royal box. As Hillary stuck her head out the limo, she heard a roar of cheers and profanities. The races had already begun and people had staked their bets.
The route from where the limo had parked to the royal box took them underground. More specifically, under the race track. Hillary was in awe as she heard the thundering sound of a dozen horses racing right above their heads.
As they emerged from the other side, their path was fenced. People were crowding behind the barriers to get a good look at them. The only thing that could distract these viewers from the races was the sight of their future king and, perhaps, future queen. The bodyguards made sure none of them had access to the royal party.
At the top of a large spiral staircase, they came to face a door. The prince turned around and gave each of the four girls a reassuring smile. Hillary heard Suzette take a deep breath to ease her nerves. What is there to be scared about? It's just a couple of dignitaries, Hillary thought.
A guard pushed open the door and revealed what was awaiting them. Inside, were men and women dressed to the nines, holding champagne flutes, walking around and talking in small groups with round tables dotted among them.
Hillary recognised a few faces. Some were of famous national and international diplomats. Others were celebrities. From singers to movie stars, it seemed as though anyone who was anyone had procured an invitation to the night's proceedings.
"Alright girls, I'm going to make my rounds. Try to make conversation with any familiar faces," the prince addressed the four ladies. He turned to Jess. "Care to join me?" Jessica was surprised at being sought out by the prince. She nodded gladly and allowed for him to take her arm. As they walked away, Charles whispered something in her ear, causing her to erupt in a ball of giggles.
Faye, who had obtained her own flute of champagne, held onto the glass so hard her knuckles were white. Hillary could have sworn it would have exploded any second. If looks could kill, Jess was a goner. Hillary decided not to let Faye spoil her, or Jess', evening. She turned her back to Faye.
As Hillary turned around she locked eyes with someone she hadn't seen since the day she arrived at the palace, during her interview. It was her uncle, Benjamin. He grinned at her and waved her over.
"How are you finding the palace, Hill?" This made Hillary smile. She hadn't been called 'Hill' since she left home. "Other than the fact that I might be killed at any minute, it's not been too bad." She tried to make light of the situation, but she saw a darkness on her uncle's face at these words. "Don't let anyone that you don't trust hear you speak like that of the competition. These are dangerous times. There are those who would go to war against anyone who insulted the integrity of the competition," her uncle warned her.
"Don't worry, I know to hold my tongue, no matter how I truly feel," she confided in her uncle.
"How you truly feel?" Benjamin frowned. "When I spoke to your mother, she informed me you were elated to be a part of the prince's competition. What's changed?"
Hillary sighed. "When I first came to the castle, I had this friend"
"Hillary!" Her uncle cut her off. "You knew what this competition was going in to it," he reprimanded her.
"But… but she was my friend. Her name was Rachel. She was kind and beautiful and could make anyone laugh, and he killed her. He killed her." Hillary started to tear up.
Her uncle grabbed her by the arm and harshly whispered into her ear; "Don't. Cry." She merely nodded, looked to the ceiling and blinked a few times. "Good," Benjamin stated and patted her on the shoulder. Like that could make anything better.
"Hillary!" The prince called over to her and gestured that she was to join him. She looked all around but could not spot Jessica. Perhaps she was sent to socialise as well. Hillary made her way over to the prince, making sure to plaster a megawatt smile onto her face.
"President Cossa, allow me to introduce one of the ladies in my competition, Hillary Abraham. Hillary, I'm sure you recognise one of our most important allies; the president of Mozambique."
"Of course," Hillary gushed, "it's a great pleasure to meet you, Mr President."
"We were just discussing war strategy against the United States." President Cossa informed Hillary. "Your prince here seems to think I need to give up my ships to the cause of protecting you from the U.S. military. I am trying to wrap my head around why he wants ships to protect you while you are staying in a land locked capital."
"Like I said before," the prince, ran his hand through his hair in agitation, "once they land on Ayden soil, they outnumber us two to one. We need to meet them at sea if we are to stand any chance of evading an attack."
What the president did next shocked both Charles and Hillary. He turned to Hillary and asked, "Ms Abraham, what do you think we should do?"
Hillary panicked for a second. Why was he asking her? Of course, if she was to be queen someday, she would have to know about things such as battle strategy.
"What about the Namibian boarder?" she asked.
"What about the Namibian boarder?" Charles questioned.
"Well, they've been allies with the United States for decades now. They led the attack in the first war against Ayden. If I was the U.S., I would send them to attack instead of sending my troops in expensive ships across the sea. Especially not for such a distance. Man the Namibian boarder. That's what I would do, at least."
The men looked at her and considered her words. President Cossa then turned to Charles and patted him on the shoulder.
"Keep an eye on this one, she's got half a mind to her," he said. "We'll send fifty thousand troops within the next week to help man the boarder at Namibia. A further two thousand men on forty ships will be sent to guard the ports. I'll stay in contact and we'll discuss the battle plans as further developments are made."
With that the president walked away to go speak to some advisors, Hillary's uncle included. Charles turned to Hillary and looked at her with new eyes. In front of him, he saw a potential ally; a potential future queen. "Will you excuse me; I should find Ms Jessica." Hillary merely nodded her head and went in search of someone to talk to.
Not far away, was Suzette. She was standing, alone, at the glass doors and looking out towards the races happening below. Hillary had almost forgotten that that was what they were there for. She looked around and noticed that no one else way paying the slightest bit of attention to the proceedings.
"Hi, Suzette, enjoying the races?" Hillary asked with a kind smile. Suzette was always shy around the palace and, as far as Hillary could tell, hadn't made any friends. Suzette's room was only two doors down from her own. Hillary had noticed that Suzette tried to spend as much of her time as possible in her rooms with her maids.
"Honesty? I think it's dreadful. It's disgusting how they put blinkers on the horses and whip them to run as fast as possible; all to see which wealthy man bought the best bred, most well trained horse of the season."
Hillary had never really thought of that. She had always loved riding horses and had never considered that, perhaps, they didn't enjoy being ridden much at all.
"But, to be honest," Suzette lowered her voice, "it's much better than making conversation with all these famous, powerful people. They make me feel so small." Hillary could relate to this and she told Suzette so. She wondered then if either of them were really cut out to be princesses.
Just then, Faye came stomping over with a fresh champagne flute and downed it all in one gulp. "Look at them!" she spat out to Hillary and Suzette, gesturing violently with her empty glass. They looked over to where she had pointed and saw Charles and Jessica, together, talking to some foreign dignitary or another.
"He's been with her practically all night. The main event is about to start and he hasn't even spent a single minute with me," Faye pouted. Hillary and Suzette didn't know what to say. Honestly, Hillary didn't care much, except for the slight bit of joy she got at seeing her friend become a front runner. Luckily, before either girl had to think about something to reply, a lady taking bets came round to them.
"Two thousand rand on Stars and Stripes, please." Faye said, almost bored as she handed over the cash. "That's a lot of money to bet on a horse, Faye," Suzette said with wide eyes.
"Charles is my prince and I support him in everything," Faye spelled out to the girls, as if it should be obvious. For as much as she didn't like Faye, Hillary respected her devotion to the prince. His future queen would surely need a lot of that.
The girls turned their attention back to the races. Now that it was the main event and final race of the evening, the outside viewing area of the royal box was crowded. Prince Charles and Jessica were sitting in the allocated seat for the king and queen; a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Faye. Luckily, a servant had taken away the poor champagne flute.
There was a sudden hush that swept over the previously roaring crowd. The horses were getting loaded into their boxes and getting ready to race. Suddenly a loud siren pierced the sky and the gates sprung open. Out galloped the horses, some faster than others. Hillary immediately spotted Stars and Stripes, a large black thoroughbred with the colours of green and gold and the number seven sewn on his numnah.
Instantly, Hillary could see what Charles had seen in the horse. He was ahead of all the other horses, the clear winner long before he was to cross the finishing line. But then, disaster struck. Stars and Stripes stumbled and went crashing to the ground, crushing his rider beneath him as well.
There was great commotion as horses behind him veered out of the way. Horses crossed the finishing line, but no one was paying attention. All eyes were on Stars and Stripes. His rider had managed to manoeuvre himself away from the horse and seemed to be in perfect health. Stars and Stripes, on the other hand, was in much worse shape. There was a bone sticking out of the near side front leg of the horse.
Hillary heard screaming. She then realised it was coming from Suzette next to her. She herself had tears streaming down her face. A man walked onto the race track and towards the horse. Hillary, who knew what was coming, winced away. She had seen a few horses break their legs while her mother competed in the professional ranks. Suzette, on the other hand, had not witnessed all Hillary had and was confused.
"Is he a vet? He can help, can't he?" Suzette attempted to plead it into reality. All Hillary could do was shake her head. She pulled Suzette by her shoulder to make her look away just as the gun shot was fired. They both broke down into sobs.
"Pull yourselves together!" Faye fiercely whisper-yelled at them.
"Go to hell, Faye," Hillary spat out. She had had enough of Faye to last her a lifetime. What Faye did in response shocked Hillary out of her crying. Faye struck her across the face. She then turned to Suzette and did the exact same to her. Suzette was just as stunned as Hillary was.
"Do you think Charles wants a wife who has a public meltdown at the slightest sight of trouble?" she demanded of the girls. "The prince needs someone who can be composed and in control at all times. Look at Jessica." The girls looked to the royal seats she was pointing at. Jessica showed no outward emotion. It was as if the incident had never happened.
"Now, that's how a queen behaves. Pull your shit together or you're as good as dead," she hissed. The girls wiped their tears and put smiles on their faces, just in time for the prince to remember that any other girl than Jessica existed. He and Jessica made their way to the rest of the girls.
"I'm sorry that our night had to end on such a sour note, but I'm glad that you all seem to be taking it well. What a pity, too. I put a lot of money and time into that horse," he shrugged it off.
With the same smile plastered on her face, Hillary wondered how he could be so cold and collected. If her horse, Piglet, had to die, she didn't know what she would do. Another reason why I shouldn't be queen, she thought.
"shall we retire?"
Prince Charles, once again, took Jessica's arm, and escorted the ladies to their limo.