Rose held Robert's pale hand. She stared into his bland grey eyes. She forced herself to listen to his bland conversation in his marble ballroom. She felt lonely. But then, the ladies maid announced, "Miss Rose, your father is the Prime Minister. Congratulations. He wants you at the house. With Master Robert." They got in the Rolls-Royce that Robert owned, and they drove at its top speed of 11 miles per hour.
Two Hours Later:
Robert knocked on the vintage oaken door. The butler, Nathaniel, held a crisp, green parchment letter to Rose. She opened it, to find two more letters: one for Robert and one from her. She tore open her letter, and began to read, "Dear Rose, you are to marry Robert when you are sixteen, and bring fortune to our name." Robert read his, nodded, and kissed Rose. He said, "I'll return in four years. Four years, and we'll be married. Wait for me, okay?" and he left. But there was a problem: Rose didn't like Robert.
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RomanceHe's a Hantov boy, living in bombed out shelters. She's the President's daughter. But love finds a way.
