The Lost Princess

Chapter 7

Sorry for the title change, ill be making a new cover soon. And alsooo, this chapter is kind of a filler for the next one, so bear with me. Thank you to everyone who's been reading, I WUV YOU ALL IMMENSELY <3 become a fan if you like it and comment with any feedback and suggestions! THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN!<3 xx

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After that horrible tour, I manage to find my way back to my room. I can’t find my parents, so I go into my art studio.

I sit on the stool in front of the blank canvas and pick up the paint palate, preparing to mix some paint.

But then I start to cry.

Sob, actually.

I don’t understand how I could’ve ruined somebody’s life already! I just got here yesterday! My old parents already made me go through that, and I thought things would be different here.

I don’t ever know how long I’ve been crying. I should be stronger than this, but I’m used to crying so much back at my old home.

I don’t hear the door swing open until I feel a presence behind me.

I quickly spin around, startled that I didn’t hear them come in.

I spin back around when I see who it is.

“It’s time for dinner, love.” He says, voice a little higher and concerned than before.

“Not hungry.” I say flatly, trying to wipe the streaks of tears off of my face.

“It’s your first dinner back home and it’s dedicated to you, you have to. And dress nice.” He says, trying to convince me. “What? What’s wrong?” he asks again, his eyebrow raising as he sits on the stool near me. I quickly get up and away from him, still wiping my face and trying not to let him see me so weak.

“Why are you even asking?” I begin to shout, but I soon calm down. I point to the door leading out of my room. “Prince Blackmore, would you please remove yourself from my room so I can change for dinner.” I say, trying to sound professional.

But I’m still crying, so I don’t know how well that worked out.

He stands, his face a little softer as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and walks out.

ASSHOLE.

I have to remember to thank my mother for my extensive wardrobe. Holy shit.

After a few minutes of gawking, clapping, and squealing like a little girl at my closet, I walk over to the area with dresses. I flip through them until I find one that catches my eye. The one that does is a cream floor-length gown with a lace overlay and a sweetheart neckline.

Hey, a dinner dedicated to me? I’m going all out.

I wander into the bathroom and have a shower, dry off, and slip on my dress. Might I mention that this bathroom is ridiculous, too? I lived in a one bedroom studio apartment with my ‘parents’, forcing me to sleep on the fold-out couch. This is all surreal to me! Everything I’ll ever need is right here, how did they prepare so well?

I find a hair curler and style my dark brown hair in slim little ringlets. I do want to add a little makeup, and I remember that I keep my favorites in my little backpack. Maybe Harry brought it with them when they brought me here?

I exit the bathroom to look for it and let out a shriek, holding a hand to my heart in terror.

“Why are you in my room?!” I whisper-shout. “I’m not ready yet!”

Here stands Harry in my bedroom, looking disgustingly nice. A pale yellow dress shirt with a black tie, black dress pants and matching black dress loafers.

How am I supposed to hate this boy if he keeps showing up, looking so beautiful?

“I was sent up to get you. In case you couldn’t find your way.” He says, not making eye contact. When he finally does, he looks at my dress, and then straight into my eyes. “You, um…you look nice.”

I’m still upset about earlier, but I let out a light ‘thank you’ and a nod. But on the inside, I was screaming of joy. Why? I don’t know.

My eyes catch my backpack in the corner and I run over to it, removing my makeup bag.

“I’ll be a minute or two, let me finish.” I say, trying not to sound too interested in his presence.

He nods and sits while I run into the bathroom to do my makeup. I even my face with foundation and powder, put on white shimmering eye shadow and mascara, then finish with some peach blush and cherry-red lipstick. I exit the bathroom, not meeting his gaze, and put on the heels that I set out for myself earlier. I glide over to the door, trying not to step on my gown. I look back at him, who is obviously staring at me.

I mentally grin at that.

I mean, it’s refreshing! I’ve never had much self-confidence before.

“Are we going, then?” I ask, trying to sound as annoyed as he usually is.

“Mhhm.” Is all he says before he stands and runs a hand through his hair before he stuffs them in his pockets, following me out the door. I begin to walk ahead of him when he pulls me by my waist and turns me towards him.

“And, I’m sorry if I was the one who had upset you earlier,” he says, sounding strained. I stand up straighter and remove myself from his grasp.

“You were.” I say flatly as I parade out of my bedroom and make my way towards the dining hall.