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|French Charm|

With blankets suddenly feeling way too thick and way too warm I push myself up, despite a very serious rebellion towards my first day

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With blankets suddenly feeling way too thick and way too warm I push myself up, despite a very serious rebellion towards my first day. Everything is so fancy, from the entry gate to the bathroom. Nothing but the best for the royal palace, as expected from all the books I've read.

Satin sheets and duvets probably imported from France. Effortlessly carved furniture, each shaped with patterns of gold. Elegantly scattered wallpaper, from plain white to outlines of roses. And the carpet, the white fluff that I can imagine myself falling into face first, that's my favorite.

I reach for my phone to check the time because everyone has been scurrying around for hours and they're either very early or I'm terribly late. Although the absence of power provides a sense of relief, if anything, I can totally blame my dead battery for me being late. Throwing down the phone I decide to get ready anyway, I have to find a plug-in for my straighter before even considering facing the world behind the door. I stride to the huge wooden surface that I assume is a desk, but I find some sort of letter instead. It's inside an old, slightly faded white envelope, sealed with an elegant crest. The letter "L" rests on a bed of roses. The attention to detail is certainly pleasing. Carefully peeling the envelope open I remove the letter and unfold it.

Amara.

It seems our time for today has been cut from the agenda. I do however look forward to speaking with you tomorrow. While you have one of the very few days free from work I'd like to offer you the full accommodation of the castle.

I've had the chef prepare a special breakfast for you and my assistant has been ordered to escort you anywhere you'd like to go, within the palace grounds of course.

Enjoy your day.

X.L.

After a quick shower and trying my best to better my appearance I got greeted by one of the prince's assistants, Marie. She is a thin, fragile-looking, pale white girl. She can't be much older than me, but the soft bags under her eyes along with her charcoal grey pantsuit seems to add a level of maturity to her presence. I definitely need to talk with her about some things concerning the prince, at least before I leave.

Marie led me to the main dining hall, where she smiled briefly before exiting the room and allowing the silence to thicken. I keep hearing people and seeing slight shadows of people passing, but it's like everyone is avoiding being confronted by me, they're probably just as sick of the press as the prince.

"Miss Meadows, I presume." Completely lost in thought I end up feeling completely freaked out by the sudden sound filling the room. The voice sounds so contrasting to Marie and the Prince, so foggy and deep. I haven't heard anything like it before. I turn around to find a young man. He also is very handsome, a lot like the prince if you think about it, just a bit messier. The white uniform he's wearing seems to hug the tight structure of his very, very tight chest. "My apologies, it wasn't my intention to scare you. I'm Maxime the chef, but please call me Max." He extends his hand and offers a sweet smile. So the handshake isn't some sort of unknown gesture, the prince just thought it was below him.

"Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Amara." Following his lead I stick my hand out as well, eager to know that I'm not some sort of freak for suggesting it prior to this. He gently takes my hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze before letting go.

"You must have made quite an impression on the prince." Raising a questioning eyebrow I wait for the server to place the plate down in front of me. "Je vous remercie." His french lisp earns him a smile from the girl, she exits quickly though, like she isn't allowed in here for too long.

"What do you mean ?"

"Journalists are considered las équipe." My eyebrows furrow the second he speaks. He folds a white serviette over my lap. "Staff are to stay in the west wing unless they are called upon. The prince won't usually allow his own rules to be ignored."

I feel both honoured and offended when I realize what he means. Honoured, because I feel a little special for being allowed in here and offended because I was just referred to as a member of the staff. Ignoring my offense I look down at the decorated plate. It's a strange dish, something that honestly doesn't look very appetizing. Hiding my slight discuss I turn to Max to get some explanation as to what I'm being served.

"Oeufs au saumon." Max states and I must admit that it definitely sounds better than it looks. " In your bowl you have eggs baked with smoked salmon. Enjoy." He winks and turns, ready to leave.

Staring at the porcelain plate I can't help but wonder why the prince asked Max to prepare me this. I suppose it might be his favourite, why I do not understand, but it's possible. That or he's trying to get rid of me by serving me weird, French cuisine that could nauseate even the foodies of the world. Or maybe it's just his favourite. And if it is, I wonder what his other favourites are. Where would he go if the world got too heavy or if he just wanted to be alone? Where does he go to be happy?

"Maxime, before you leave, may I ask you a question ?"

"Oui." He smiles once again and thanks to my obsession with romance novels that showcase hot French men as the main characters, I totally got that.

"Where is the prince's favorite place in the palace?"

He frowns, like he might be thinking, and then folds his hands in front of him. "The lost room. Take a left when leaving the dining hall and walk straight. There is also a vending machine at the door if you'd prefer something more familiar to eat."

He nods and smiles and silently sneaks out of view. Glancing down at the plate one more time I effortlessly decide on the latter.

Following the rather simple directions, I stumble towards "the lost room". I pass multiple family portraits and decorated rooms and even a few baby pictures of Prince Xavier. Like I expected the rest of the palace is just as beautiful as my bedroom. Large furniture, crazy statues, and golden patterns. Everything is so extra but still classy.

Finally, at the end of a poorly lit hallway, there's a little room that oddly enough has no door. I walk inside, immediately struck with bright light coming from the outside. Large brick walls, antique windows nothing like the ones in the rest of the palace. A view of the grounds emphasizes the green fields of grass and endless rows of flowers and trees and just everything that nature could offer. It's amazing.

There's shuffling behind me and I find myself frozen in place after turning around.

"I hoped you'd find your way here."

Well damn.

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Je vous remercie- Thank you
Las équipe - Staff
Oui- Yes

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Thoughts on Amara so far?
Will Max be a possible love interest?
What's the story behind the last room?

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Love.

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