Royally Flushed

Deal Or No Deal

~Malia~

Sitting in the back of a town car with Louis, the Prince of England, wasn't quite as surreal the second time as it had been the first time it had happened.

I sniffled a bit and he pulled out a handkerchief from seemingly out of thin air which I gratefully accepted and dabbed my tear stained cheeks with, wondering how I was dealt such a crappy hand in life.

My mother passed away, my step father abused me, and my boyfriend died and then came back to life without so much as a postcard from hell-somewhere he'd definitely be going when he truly died because I couldn't imagine anyone with a conscience being able to fool his own family and girlfriend that he was dead only to be out there living his best life, pun intended, without so much as a care in the world.

The electric air between the two of us began dancing amongst my senses and it was enough to pull me out of my depressive reverie to realize that we had pulled into an unfamiliar driveway of a lavish cottage styled home.

I gave Louis a quizzical look but he was out of the car before I could even question him.

The gentleman that I never knew he was came out full force as he strode around the car and opened my door, his hand outstretched and awaiting for mine to be placed in his.

I merely looked at his hand and rolled my eyes, still not completely trusting of his motives after the harsh words he had spoken to me in the hallway at school a few days ago and helped myself out and onto the asphalt of the driveway below me.

"Well then, suit yourself. Do hurry though, I don't want anyone seeing us here," he replied to my rude gesture of ignoring his hand.

"Where are we?" I asked him, uncomfortably aware of how close he was to me and his hand emitting a strong warmth to my core that he had placed on my back to help push me along quicker to the front door.

The grey stone blended in with the murky sky and ivy vines traipsed up and down the building as if it were slithering across it that very second, moving and writhing with a purpose to swallow the home whole.

"We are at the very private and very confidential home of my future family, that is where we are," he responded once we made it to the front door and shooed me inside the foyer with one last paranoid glance outside the house to make sure no one had followed us, save for his bodyguard and driver rolled into one who had taken to canvassing the yard around the home.

"Your future family?" I asked him with a confused lilt to my voice, following his languid body as we made our way into the grand family room complete with comfortable looking yet very modern couches and a television big enough to be mistaken for a home theater screen.

"Yes, when I marry and have children, we will live here until I have to assume the throne and move to the palace. Although, this is pretty much my residence now regardless, I can hardly stand to be around my father lately."

"Oh, why's that?"

"It's always work and no play. He can really be quite the bore. You, on the other hand, are a mystery I'd love to solve. We can start with why you were so worked up on the side of the road earlier."

He acted as if he were entitled to the deepest darkest parts of my mind, as if he hadn't accosted me mere days ago in the school hallway then tried to seduce me in my kitchen the very day before!

"And what makes you think that you are privy to any of my secrets?"

He strode toward the couches, grabbing my hand up in a flurry of movement and tingles and pulled me along with him, not failing to notice how much trouble I had in doing so.

"Because I am your Prince and I demand to know," he stated, a mirth in his eyes that showed he wasn't being serious about his words.

"I didn't have a prince a few weeks ago, you know. Or a monarchy to obey, just a President, and I could even disagree with him. I have a feeling if I disagree with you, it's off with my head, right?"

His laughter made the crinkles by his sparkling blue eyes crease even more with laugh lines and I had to stop myself from reaching out to touch his face as we finally sat down directly across from one another on a very small loveseat.

"You Americans and your utter misunderstanding of our culture. On you, though, it is almost endearing. Are you scared of me? Maybe then you'll tell me what I want to know.." he trailed off, his attitude dipping somewhere between sarcasm and offense.

"You're very mercurial, did you know that?"

"Mercurial? My, I didn't realize I bothered you so. Maybe it's my presence that unnerves you so very much?"

He leaned closer, enough so that the scent of his cologne tickled my nostrils and made me want to lean forward even more, maybe get close enough to see those golden flecks in his eyes once more or to count the light freckles dusted across his right cheekbone.

I didn't get the chance as he pulled away quickly, hands going up to rest behind his head as his right foot crossed over his left knee giving me a full view of his navy designer shoes and socks that probably cost more than my entire house back in the states.

"I can assure you, your highness, that the only person unnerved here is you. Why are you so keen on hearing all about my past anyway? It's not like the circumstances that brought me here are jovial in the slightest, and its definitely not a story I'd ever be willing to share with you."

His eyes seemed to perk up at the mention of why I had come to England in the first place.

"So, you weren't contacted by your father to return to England, collect the throne by marrying me and then share your newfound wealth with him, all the while retaining another man back home?"

My eyes almost came bulging out of my head at his assumptions.

"What are you, some kind of bad gossip magazine? I've never even met my father and the only 'man' I've ever been with is de-was dead...or wasn't. I thought he was dead."

That got his attention turned to me directly and he wasn't leisurely sprawled out across the loveseat anymore. Instead, his entire body was directed towards mine and his face was mere inches away from my own, eyes strained in a seriousness that made me want to cower away from his sudden movement.

Although I could feel the hostility rolling off of him in waves, I didn't move away. I couldn't let him see that I was afraid, even if I was shaking in my seat and my heart was beating a million times a second.

"This sounds juicy.  Do tell."

I rolled my eyes at his assumption that I would ever want to tell him anything, but then I thought better of it as I remembered the only reason I was putting up with his spoiled rich ass in the first place. I needed information and protection from my step father, and I needed to do something soon before he realized how much a ransom on me would really be.

"How about this: I give you information in exchange for some of my own. Do we have a deal?"

His eyes twinkled in the dim afternoon light and the left side of his mouth quirked up in a half smirk.

Reaching out his hand to me and staring daggers into my heart he replied, "Why yes, Princess Malia. Yes we do."