Royal Masquerade

Chapter 17

Zephyr lets out an insufferable sigh as he helped Astrea to carry some of her loot from the mall. He was grumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Women are all evil’. He’s finally convinced that a woman would survive being tossed into any awkward era as long as the world in question have a shopping mall and the woman is pre-loaded with cash that she can spend to her heart content. When they finally reached Darklord Mansion after another long and torturous taxi ride, Zephyr looked as flaccid as a rotten veggie. He thought he had never felt so tired in his entire life. Not even a long flight during a scorching summer is as exhausting and mentally challenging as this.

“Here…” Zephyr said halfheartedly as he handed her the shopping bags to Astrea in front of her room, which she snatched away with enthutiasm of a three years old child who saw a giant lollipop candy.

“Thank you Zep! You’re the best!” she grinned and gave him a peck on his cheek as a way to thank him for his companionship earlier of the day.

“Don’t mention. I’m just glad you were enjoying yourself with the splurging, Miss Sinclair.” he said, which is the truth that came straight from his heart.

“I’ve always been wanting to do this, but I was not rich…even putting decent food on the table was a problem before I came to work here as Narcissus’s nurse.” she said wistfully. Zephyr rolled his eyes at her words. Astrea, not rich? That must be the biggest joke of the century. She rule a kingdom to begin with. She can have anything at her disposal at her whims. Granted, she doesn’t know that because her memories of it were locked away and she couldn’t remember it.

“I do feel guilty for spending like this,” she giggled sheepishly.

“Don’t be, I think it’s quite all right. Besides, you deserve it, Miss Sinclair. You’re more to a personal assistant to him rather than just a nurse before you accepted his confession and feelings for you. I’ve seen you running about tending him to his needs and mess. And master wouldn’t mind it a bit. You might as well burn his money to hell and he wouldn’t notice it,” Zephyr laughed loudly.

“I hope he won’t get into a cardiac arrest when he sees the credit card statement by the end of the month.” Astrea giggled.

“I assure you, he won’t.” Zephyr said, slightly distracted by something for some reason unknown to Astrea. She examined his expression and could guessed almost immediately that Zephyr is distracted by something.

“Am I keeping you from something, Zep?” she asked softly.

“Umm?”

“Spill it, you look as if you’re having a rat in your pants and you’re trying to keep me from knowing it,” she laughed at her own lousy metaphor.

“I definitely do not have rat in my pants, Miss Sinclair!” he exclaimed, amused at her ridiculous accusation.

“Then what is it? You look uneasy,” she chuckled.

“There’s this show on tv. A rerun. It’s my favourite. A lunatic Australian man and his wife going around in the jungle and get smeared in mud and dirt to catch crocodiles,” he muttered lamely, describing the content of the documentary show that he often see on tv . He don’t even know the name of the show to even begin with. He can’t seems to find a good excuse to leave Astrea, so, that will have to do.

“Crocodile Hunter?” she supplied, laughing.

“Yes! That’s it, Crocodile Hunter. I never missed the show!” he said happily. So, the bloody show is known as Crocodile Hunter.

“Well, then, don’t let me keep you from your favourite show, Zep. Go ahead and watch the show. I have to get ready for tonight’s ball too. Wouldn’t want to keep Narcissus waiting.” she said, almost sourly at her last sentence.