Dan's POV
"Umm, Prince Phillip?" I poked my head through the large door to Prince Phillip's room. "Yes, Dan?" He asked looking away from his book, and slowly got off of his bed. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but the King and Queen have requested your presence at the dinner table." "Yes, of course. I'll be right there." he smiled, checking himself in the mirror quickly before following me down to the dining room.
"Hey, Dan." Phil nudged my side as we went down the giant stairs of the palace. "Yes, Prince Phillip?" I replied. "You don't need to speak in such a posh manner. Loosen up a bit." "Are you sure, Prince Phillip?" "Yeah, and don't call me Prince Phillip anymore, just Phil is fine." "Ok, Phil." I nodded before opening the large doors to the dining room.
Me and some of the other servants, PJ and Chris, served them their courses before they finished, and then we were left to clean up as the royal family got ready for bed.
"So, Dan," Chris nudged my side as I cleaned another plate. "Yeah?" I asked, turning my head to him. He slipped me a card, and gave me a wink before cleaning some clothes the King had worn that day.
I looked at it questionably, then slipped it in my coat pocket before going back to work.
I locked myself in my small servant room. The walls were white, except for a decent sized window on one side of the small room, and there was a white wardrobe, and black, gray, and white bed beside it.
I threw my shoes off, and put the letter on my bed before undressing myself. I wore a new pair of boxers and yoga pants before climbing into the bed, and opening the agonizing note.
It read, "Dear Dan,
Uh, hey. I usually don't write many letters, so I hope this is ok. I also made a poem for you. (Sort of, it's not really a poem)
It sucks, doesn't it.
Liking someone you can't have.
Seeing then everyday,
But knowing that they'll never be yours.
It's the worst feeling,
Because all you can do
Is dream and wish you could have them.
So, yeah. That's my fist letter to you. Um, many more are to come.
Love, Prince Phillip (Just call me Phil)"
I furrowed my eyebrows together, and put it inside my pillow case.
Did he like me. Prince Phillip, liking me?! Not possible. I wanted to run to his room, and confront this to him, ask him about it, but I laid in bed, in agonizing pain from a question likely to never e answered, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
