The Good Crown

Chapter 9

The next morning, we were greeted with a full schedule of classes that felt overwhelming. The sun shone brightly through the tall windows, but the warmth did little to brighten my mood. As I glanced around the room, it was clear that everyone was buzzing with excitement. They laughed and whispered to each other, casting furtive glances in our direction.

My heart sank. The royal kids clearly knew we were different—our clothes, our mannerisms, the way we carried ourselves. We were from the town, not of noble blood, and it showed. I missed my friends, my sisters waking up early to feed the chickens and play in the fields. Now, I was stuck in this uncomfortable dress that felt like it was constricting not just my body but my spirit. I couldn't help but feel the weight of their judgment pressing down on me as I walked among them.

"Ready?" Elara asked, her voice cutting through my thoughts. She stood by the door with her school bag slung over her shoulder, her excitement shining through even the apprehensive atmosphere.

I took a deep breath, nodding as I grabbed my own bag. "Ready as I'll ever be," I said, trying to muster a bit of enthusiasm.

As we stepped outside, the laughter of the royal kids echoed behind us, their whispers flitting through the air like annoying little gnats. I caught snippets of their conversation, the words "townies" and "commoners" punctuating their sentences, each utterance a reminder of our place in this world. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger, but I swallowed it down. They could think what they wanted; I had a mission.

The guys were waiting outside, standing in a loose group, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. I shot them a glance, hoping for a reassuring smile, but they were too busy engaged in their own chatter, likely discussing how they'd make the day exciting despite the discomfort we felt.

"Let's make the most of it, right?" Elara said, her determination shining through. "We're here for a reason."

I nodded again, forcing a smile. "Right. A reason."

As we began walking toward our first class, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. Every step we took seemed to draw the attention of the royal kids, their eyes darting our way before quickly turning back to their conversations. I wondered what they saw when they looked at us. Were we just a curiosity, a chance to gawk at the 'lower class'? Or did they feel threatened by our presence, knowing we were here on a mission of our own?

"Ignore them," Elara whispered as we fell into step together.

I wanted to brush off the whispers and laughter like dust on my shoulder. But as we approached our classroom—a place filled with ornate decorations and well-dressed students—I felt a shiver of doubt creep in.

The students settled into their seats, a mix of excitement and anxiety, but I couldn't shake the feeling that our presence was more than an inconvenience. I steeled myself, reminding myself of the task at hand. We were here to gather information and prepare for the inevitable rebellion.

As the class droned on, I struggled to concentrate on the lecture about history and politics. I stole glances at Elara, who seemed absorbed in taking notes, her pen flying across the page. I admired her focus, but I couldn't help feeling a sense of dread looming over me.

Finally, the class ended, and the bell rang out, breaking the tension like a welcome breeze. Students began to shuffle out, their laughter filling the air again as they grouped together, talking animatedly about the next lesson. I stood up, feeling the weight of eyes on my back.

"Let's find our lockers," I said to Elara, who nodded, still buzzing from the class.

We stepped into the hallway, the polished marble floors reflecting the golden light spilling from the grand windows. I kept my head down, weaving through the clusters of students who didn't seem to notice us—until they did. Their laughter quieted slightly, whispers reigniting, and I felt the flush of embarrassment creep up my neck.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Just what I need."

As we navigated through the throngs of students, I spotted a row of lockers lining the wall, each one adorned with shiny brass numbers. I had no idea which locker was mine. As I approached, I could hear laughter coming from a group nearby, their eyes darting to us again.

Just then, I turned and bumped straight into a solid chest. Looking up, I found myself face-to-face with none other than Prince Noah. His signature smile lit up his face, and for a moment, I was taken aback by how genuinely cheerful he looked.

"Hey there!" he said, his voice bright and warm. "Need help finding your locker?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "No, I can manage," I replied, colder than I intended. I turned to walk away, but something compelled me to glance back at him. His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, taking a step closer.

"Are you sure? I know this place like the back of my hand. It's easy to get lost here," he insisted, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I frowned, a mix of irritation and confusion swirling inside me. Why would he want to be seen with someone like me? A 'townie'? Was this some sort of charity work for him? The questions piled up in my mind, but I pushed them aside.

"I really don't need any help," I said, my voice firmer this time, and started walking away again.

"Come on, just let me help!" he called after me, falling into step behind me. I could feel my frustration building as I made my way to the lockers, wondering why he wouldn't take my rejection seriously.

"Why do you care, Prince Noah?" I snapped, turning to face him. His expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face, but he quickly masked it with that ever-present smile.

"Why wouldn't I care?" he replied, maintaining an easy demeanor. "You're part of the class now, just like everyone else. Plus, I like helping out."

I rolled my eyes, my irritation mounting. "You don't even know me. I'm just a 'townie' to you," I replied bitterly, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

Noah's smile faded slightly, and I caught a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes—an understanding, perhaps, or maybe even a hint of sympathy. "Everyone has their own story, Daniella. You might be surprised at what you find here."

I paused, taken aback by his sincerity. It was disarming. I had expected him to laugh off my words or brush me aside, but instead, he was standing there, offering me an insight I hadn't expected.

"Why do you want to help me?" I pressed, still wary. "Is this some sort of royal initiative?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No agenda, I promise. I just want to make sure you feel welcome. This place can be intimidating."

I narrowed my eyes, unsure whether to trust him. But there was something about his demeanor—an earnestness that made me hesitate. Perhaps he genuinely wanted to help.

I sighed, glancing back at the lockers, knowing I needed to focus on my mission. "Fine, but only because I have no idea where my locker is," I relented, my tone softening just a bit.