The Melody Of Destiny

Chapter 16

Anastasia

I march down the endless hallway, a mop in one hand, bucket in the other, the boiling sloshing water etching closer and closer to my supposedly white uniform, by now predictably etched with pen and markers.

Of all the arrogant, spoiled brats... I let him toy with me like this. Again? Letting him twirl me around like a bad infomercial. Slapping a neon light on my existence. Ms Auburn threw a royal fit. It's not my fault he ditched the charity event. Not my fault he essentially gave a big middle finger to every laid-off commoner. Not my fault he snubbed our so-called allies. Not my fault he MADE ME dance with him. But do you see him mopping floors? No. It's all my fault, always mine. I 'bewitched' him. I beguiled him. It can't be his own ideocracy.

I drop the bucket on the floor, water sloshing over. Forcing the mop in, I yank it out slapping it violently onto the floor, imagining his smug, arrogant face. Typical royal behaviour. He changes the game and I'm to blame. Why do I even bother? Perfectly chosen invitations, matching tablecloths, decorations meticulously chosen ensuring each kingdom, each ally, was represented. Every single detail, a nod to their culture, a token of respect and acknowledgement. The colours, the symbols, even the placement of each item – all designed to scream unity. And don't get me started on the seating arrangements. Does he have any idea how complicated that was? Balancing future alliances while preventing a murder mystery dinner. And then there's the food. The chefs? A delightful nightmare. The kids a complete circus. Yet I did it and just like that all of it - gone to waste. Because of his entitled but.

I attack the floor with the mop, the limb strings mushing against the marble. Useless like the waste of my brainpower. "Oh, Anna, you're so enchanting, you make my heart race." I mock, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, well, scrub this, Your Royal Highness." Forcing the mop back and forth I settle into a mind-numbing dance. Is this what my life's come to? Hospitality custodian – I scoff. I do all the planning, all the organising, all the work and none of the fame, barely any money, and ultimately treated like a glorified cleaner. "They don't deserve me." I mumble under my breath, each push more aggressive than the last. They'd be utterly lost without me. Useless, the lot of them.

I roll my eyes, picturing it the chaos, the carnage if I just up and left. Honestly, they should be grateful to even have me. Who else could juggle their absurd demands, their tantrums and still keep things running smoothly? Certainly not those headless chickens." I laugh smirking to myself.

My phone buzzes again, groaning I pull it out an unknown number – but the middle three digits give it away – it's the prince no matter how many times I block him he unblocks himself forcing his way into my life again and again.

I don't know why. Why Anna? But I grab it with my soapy hands and swipe the green bouncing phone and hiss out "What!" my voice echoing around the empty hall.

"Why so hostile, Anna?" The prince asks his voice annoyingly smooth.

I roll my eyes, irritation bubbling over: "Because you keep calling me, that's why! What do you want now?"

"Well, if you bother to respond to my voice notes." He starts.

"Must have missed them." I retaught dryly.

He scoffs: "I need ... want to see you." He says, his tone taking on that irritatingly charming lit yet hesitant. "We need to talk."

"We've talked." I snap. "Hey, you got an entire dance, remember?"

"You deserted me, in the midst of it, remember. That's not how things are done Ana." He murmurs.

"Well, you were an asshole." I spit, anger boiling over.