The Actress and the Prince

• Chapter 22 •

The palace - and I mean palace - was, by far, the biggest building I had ever seen in my entire life. Granted I had never been outside of the state of California, but I had thought I had seen big buildings. That was until I saw this thing.

It's a little hard to explain. Just imagine the most gaudy, huge palace you can ever think of from one of your favorite Disney movie. That's what it looked like. Logan didn't say much as the guards shoved us down the passageway to the front doors. I couldn't blame him. He had run away from all this and now he was back. It must've sucked.

The inside was even more breathtaking than the outside. There were separate spiral staircases leading up to different wings of the castle. An official-looking man in a fancy suit was standing in the foyer, waiting for us.

"Quincy?" Logan smiled as rammed into the butler-looking man. Quincy smiled widely, tears forming in his eyes. They must've been close.

"Prince," he smiled even wider than a couple seconds before. "Long time no see?"

"Yeah," Logan hesitated. "Um, yes."

Is he not allowed to say 'yeah'?

"Your mother awaits you in the-" Quincy was cut off by a loud clanking of some loud proportion coming from a hallway to the left. Loud yelling came after that.

Logan grinned. "Is that Terrence?"

Quincy nodded, "You may visit him, then meet your mother in the dining hall."

Logan nodded and gestured for me to follow him. I felt awkward walking down the hallway. The ceiling was taller than my house back home. There were portraits lining the walls. Including some of a young Logan dressed up like in some fantasy movie. Looking at him then in his ripped jeans and band tee, it was hard to imagine him as a prince.

We came to an ajar door, yelling and screaming coming from the room behind it. I glanced at Logan. He just had a stupid grin planted on his face. I secretly hoped nobody was getting murdered as I walked in behind him.

It was the largest kitchen I had even seen. Maybe one hundred people in white uniforms bustled over pots and washed up pans, one even scraping something off the floor. The screaming was coming from someone who looked about the same age as Logan. Yet he was the head chef. I knew this because of Ratatouille, the movie.

The boy stopped his screaming once he spotted Logan. He jogged up to him and smiled.

"And the missing prince returns!" His accent was thicker than Logan's, though I guess it was obvious since Logan had been away from home for a while. Come to think of it, once he stayed there longer, his accent would get thick like Sir Chef No.16 over here.

"Hey, Terrence," Logan looked at me. "Jess, this is Terrence, Terrence, this is Jess."

"Sup?" Terrence grinned at me, causing dimples to show.

What is up with Alaisian guys and dimples?

"Anywho, I should go and see my mother," Logan said.

"Ha, have fun with that," Terrence snorted. "I pray for you."

"Why does she not fire you?" Logan replied. "You openly hate her."

"Because," Terrence smirked. "I'm the best cook on the planet. Martha Stuart ain't got nothing on me."

After Logan left me to speak with his mother, I decided to go out to where the garden was. It was beautiful. I walked out and an instant wave of peacefulness hit me. I wandered around for a while until I saw bright red hair. On a boy. Who also looked Logan's age.

"Um, hi," I walked up to the boy.

He jumped, almost knocking over one of the expensive-looking pots sitting on a pedestal. After straightening it and taking a deep breath, the boy glared at me.

"Who the fuck are you?" He snarled.

"Um, I came with Logan...?"

"Ah," his tone of voice didn't change. "So you think because you're the prince's future princess you can just scare the shit out of people beneath you?"

"Future princess?" I laughed. "Yeah, right. No, I just wanted to say hi to you, dude. Chill."

The boy rolled his eyes. "You're so naïve." He crossed his arms. "Don't you realize why they let you come in the first place?"

I shrugged.

"The queen needs Logan to marry," the boy took a few steps closer to me. Was that a tattoo on his arm? "And since most of the princesses that actually exist are sluts..."

"But I'm not a princess," I tried not to look him in the eye. "I'm just...me."

"Do you think it matters? The queen is desperate."

"How do you know about all this stuff anyway?" I regretted saying hi to him. "I mean, you look as old as I am."

He shrugged, a smirk forming on his face. "I hear a lot of gossip."

"What kind of gossip?"

"A little bit of everything," he started to walk back to his plants, but I stopped him.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Damien," he replied flatly.

"Don't you want to know my name?" I asked.

"I already know it, Jess," he turned on his heel and started to walk away. "I told you. I hear a lot of gossip in this place."

Note to self: don't say hi to anyone else.

***

SO.

I feel accomplished with this story.

I like it.

:3

Okay byeee.