CROWN PRINCE | LES MISÉRABLES

09.

The ball was tomorrow and I couldn't care less. It was the first time that France would get to see the next heir to the throne. I was hidden away from the public eye ever since I could think of. Now that I turned 22, I could defend myself in case anyone tried to kill me. But who protected me from me?

"Your majesty, I have to take your measurements for the uniform.", our tailor said.
"Why? I thought it was already finished."
"It is, but just in case your majesty has gained some weight."
"Good. Then do when you have to."

I got up and the tailor started measuring me.

"Son, I see the tailor is already taking your measurements."
"He is. What can I do for you?"
"Your wife has good news for you. She's pregnant. Hopefully with a son."
"Those are indeed good news father."

"Aren't you excited to become a father?"
"Of course I am."
"I am meeting up with the Robillard family."
"Can I come with you?", I asked.
"Of course not. Nobody can know what you look like before the ball."
"Why not? I don't think they will kill me as soon as they see me."
"You are naive my son."

Then he left me all by myself and the tailor. Why was it so important that no one has seen my face before the ball? As if things would change...

***

"My friend, you have no idea how hard my life at the moment is."
"I believe I can.", Courfeyrac said.
"Will you be at the ball tomorrow?"
"We all will be.", he said, pointing at the remaining eight boys.
"What would I do without you guys?"
"Have no friends."

"I saw you almost two weeks ago with a young girl. Who was she?", Combeferre asked.
"What girl?"
"That pretty girl you sent flying to the ground. The one with the black hair."
"Oh, you mean that girl."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre looked at each other. I didn't think anything of it.

"What's her name dear princy?"
"I don't know. But I'll probably never see her again."
"I'm sure you will. She must be from Paris. Ask your father. Maybe he has her name in his magic, little book.", Courfeyrac teased.

"Shut up."
"I think what Courfeyrac means-", Combeferre started.
"No, Courfeyrac knows what Courfeyrac means."

We both stared at Courfeyrac.

"Am I supposed to know what you mean by that phrase of yours?", Combeferre asked.
"No."
"Alright. Can we please go back to focusing on Enjolras' issue?"
"Which is?"

Combeferre got up from his seat and left the room.

"It's about the girl I met. The pretty one."
"Describe her to me."
"She had black hair and porcelain skin. She seemed in a rush."
"You know its funny. I have a niece who would actually fit your description.", he said.
"What's her name?"
"Annelise Robillard.", he said.

"Annelise Robillard? Is she the daughter of Baron Robillard?"
"How many people with the last name of Robillard do you know?"
"Apparently not many enough.", I said.
"Yes, she is. The second oldest. She must be around 15 years old. She's a sweetheart, clumsy but very precious.", Courfeyrac said.

I smiled. Now I could put a name to the beautiful face.