The Low-Class Prince Charming

Chapter 4

Whispering. So much whispering.

Sky sat bolt upright in bed and glared at her door. She was trying to sleep.

In one swift movement, Sky threw her blanket to the side and stormed over to her door, throwing it open with force. "What on earth is going on?" she asked no one in particular.

Upon her sudden appearance, the half dozen maids who had gathered by her door scurried off and silence filled the hallway once more. There was only one thing different from the usual—an atmosphere of concentration.

She narrowed her eyes. Concentration?

Indeed, sat at the desk in the hallway was none other than Mason. How could he be up so early? Scratch that—how could he be up so early studying?

Without regard to how she was dressed or what she looked like, she walked over none too discreetly.

"What are you doing?" she asked when she got there. He didn't respond, and she raised an eyebrow. "Mason," she tried again. "What are you doing?"

At the sound of his name, he looked up, and although he had recognised the voice, it surprised him to see what a mess the owner of that voice was in. He didn't need to go past her face and give her a once over to know his work was cut out for him. Clearly the first thing for him to sort out was her lack of self-pride in her appearance.

"What does it look like? I'm studying," he responded, once again looking down and focusing on his notes.

"Then would you mind doing it elsewhere?" she asked as she folded her arms.

"Elsewhere... Where? This is the only spot I could see when I walked out of my room."

Sky thought for a minute. "Have you eaten breakfast yet? Do it there."

"No, I haven't," he responded, not once looking up at her nor breaking his concentration. "Where do I get breakfast?"

Sky turned to leave. "Ask the maids; they'll be happy to help you." Second improvement needed—politeness.

Mason's tone didn't change with his next line, but Sky's mood did. "I'm meant to ask you if I have any problems, but I can imagine they will help if you won't. I'm sure your dad would like to hear about this too."

Sky almost experienced whiplash at the speed she turned back to face him. She narrowed her eyes at his still lowered head. "Are you threatening me?"

"Threatening?" he asked, once again looking up at her. "Threatening is too harsh a word."

Sky scoffed once more, and she made a noise of disbelief as she observed him with her hands on her hips. "Alright, fine," she said after a moment.

Without another word, she made her way over to Mason and his stuff and unceremoniously dumped it all into a pile.

"Wait!" he yelled as he placed his arms over everything to stop her from doing any more damage. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm helping you find the kitchen and relocating your stuff at the same time," she replied, tugging at a sheet of paper which was now trapped underneath his arm. "Be grateful."

He looked at her in disbelief. "You can't just put the pieces of paper on top of each other like that! These things have order!" Third improvement—keep your hands to yourself.

Sky retracted her hands. "Alright, fine. Get the stuff together quickly and then we'll go."

As Mason spread the sheets out again and put them into separate piles, Sky got impatient. "I said quickly."