Prince Charming ✓

-1-*

"From the moment we started talking, I knew that I wanted you around."

**********

Aryan

The ballroom stank of wealth and entitlement. Aryan had never been a fan of parties, or people, for that matter, but the overwhelming stench of women's perfume and sound of men's ticking pocket-watches only reminded him of his already incessant headache.

"So," a blonde girl in a dark green dress asked him, "Do you like horses?" Her eyes were wide and her face was still, waiting for his response with patience.

"They're necessary," He replied, glancing around the room in a bored daze, because what was he supposed to say? Why yes, they're fascinating. I'm always in awe at how large their shits are, and how easily they can deliver a fatal blow with a hoof.

"I agree! My kingdom is known for breeding the finest horses." She said, a look of pride plastered on her face.

"And what kingdom is that?" He asked, as if he cared, his tone that of a robot.

Aryan had prepared for this impending night. He'd have been a fool to show up without a plan. All good liars had plans. His consisted of  following three rules: ask questions, smile, and be polite.

"I've told you already, silly." She giggled, but he could hear the strain of it in her voice. He looked around again to ease the pain of wanting to jump off the castle roof. He probably wouldn't do it, but the night was young. He probably wouldn't do it.

All around him were brightly colored gowns, men and women twirling excitedly, and those who couldn't or didn't dance watching from afar.

It was an event full of life, and if it hadn't had such an intended purpose he may have even enjoyed it himself.

No, he really wouldn't have.

"No matter," the girl smiled, "My kingdom is Oakdale."

"Right," he said, catching himself before he fully zoned out. "Right."

There was so much around him; colors flying everywhere, excitement and greetings, yet he found his eyes wandering towards the most boring place in the room: the kitchen door. The exit to sweet, sweet, relief.

"Are you alright, Prince Aryan?" She asked, glancing at where his gaze fell. She pursed her lips and looked back at him with a sigh.

"You're not impressed with me." She hummed, letting her polite tone fall into one of neutrality.

"What?" Aryan asked, surprised by her change in manner.

"It's not working. I told my family that kings don't want manners in a queen. It's their fathers that do."

Aryan stared at her in shock. "Excuse me?"

"No, no, it's fine." She gave him a small smile. "I don't want to be here either. But why hold an event and waste everyone's time if you're uninterested in it?"

"Um...I don't mean to be rude. It's just, I don't want to think about getting married yet." He stammered. "And, obviously this ball wasn't my idea. You're right, it was my father. But you know how it is, don't you?" He gave a weak smile, clinging onto the idea that maybe if he stayed polite his father wouldn't sense the off-topic discussion from across the room.