Alexandria was only ever meant to be a princess. A scandalous socialite to grace the covers of gossip magazines and twitters trending page.
When her older brother tragically dies in a suicide, Alexa suddenly becomes the next heir to the English thr...
Once I knew you, I never wanted to know anyone else. -Leo Christopher ♛•♛•♛
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Spring in the U.K was cold and wet most days. Which I didn't mind. I spent my mornings in Kensington Palace reading in the gardens. There was something incredibly comforting about the way raindrops hung heavy on leaves until they fell and kissed the the ground- making the world smell... wonderful.
But I was a romantic, and when I expressed this to Kitty she scrunched up her nose and laughed. "Reading has spoiled your brain." She said, teasing. She often accompanied me on walks, with her notepad and ball point pen. She filled its pages with poetry, sometimes just mere sentences.
She read out loud one of her passages as we sat on the edge of a cobbled fountain. She was wearing a heavy knit sweater, which was so oversized I could have easily fit into it comfortably as well. She tucked a strand of her blond hair, wavy from being in a bun behind her ear.
She dramatically began, like she was reading a Shakespearean sonnet. I fought back a smile as I watched, bemused.
Mornings are hazy. Like the aftermath of peppermint on my tongue, or the cigarette smell that lingers long after the smoke. It's as blurry as the edges of a watercolor painting, but somehow more beautiful.
When she finished she gave herself a round of applause, and let out of clear and airy laugh. I placed down my book and looked over at her note pad. Her cursive was so neat and tidy, like everything about her.
"You gave me..." I began, attempting to critique her work like a serious English professor but succumbing to a chuckle. "I don't know. You gave me Katherine Lackey."
She pretended to be offended. "Damn, I was striving for Wallace Stevens."
I raised an eyebrow, "You know what," I placed her little notepad in my lap and scanned over her poem. "You did give me Wallace Stevens."
She giggled, her cheeks a pink, either from the cold or maybe just from her happiness.
When our laughter subsided she gave me a long and serious look. "You seemed sad today."
I shrugged and forced a smile, "I just have one of those depressing faces."
She rolled her eyes, as she stretched out her legs and stood up from the fountain. "No you do not." And than she tilted her head curiously. "Why don't you ever go riding with Poppy, Lily and I?"
The truth balanced on the tip of my tongue and than it fell back inside me. "I'm not the biggest fan of Poppy and Lily?" That came out more like a question, but Kitty just laughed and shook her head.
