4th ♕

No way.

This shouldn't be happening. What was he doing here? It was so early in the morning. Seven fifty was not the time I expected my life to get screwed up.

"I'll be back," I said to Pete, handing him the bottle of dog shampoo. Wiping the remaining soap foams on my arms with a towel, I headed to the front desk.

"Where are you going?" Pete asked, confused. "You can't leave me here alone."

"You wash up Dog," I said to him.

"He is your dog. Shouldn't you be the one to—"

"Fine. But just give me a minute," I replied.

"Who did you see?" Pete kept on asking.

I hurriedly shut the back door behind me, unwilling to disclose the visitor's identity to Pete. But it was a mistake, because he looked at my direction. I almost hid behind the huge cabinet of animal toys, but then I thought that he wouldn't really see me.

This was bad. Why was he here? He couldn't be possibly telling old man that I would try for the princess wannabes audition, after all the denial I did ever since the news had reached us.

Not, right?

It wasn't like this dude knew where I worked. Actually, he might have had already forgotten me by now. Plus, it wasn't like I did anything for him to seek me out for such kind of payback. The plastic bottle didn't hit him. It didn't hit anyone. It was by far the stupidest act I did for the last two or three weeks, and it was out of the question.

But whatever he had in mind, I needed to hear it myself. Just in case he would do anything as dim-witted as sharing to Abram that I went to the Royal Assembly Hall to get an application form, I'd be the very first one to pin him to the ground.

"My sitter's on a secret love getaway. They're arranging a new one, probably tomorrow. In the meantime, there's no one willing enough to take care of him for the day. I'll come back for him later this afternoon," he told Abram. There was a subdued smile on his lips, for some reason. I was the only person here aside from the two of them. Since he couldn't possibly see me standing nearby, did I smell funny? Enough to make him that amused?

He couldn't possibly know that it was me, anyway. The fact that he didn't even glance at my direction was a solid proof. I wasn't a head turner for obvious reasons, but I was wearing the same shirt I'd worn on the day we met.

His Golden Retriever, Hero, barked at me. At least this little fellow knew who I was.

"Down, boy," blind dude said to Hero, as he was reaching for the form that old man handed him.

"I'll take care of that," I said, stepping up to take the papers for him.

"George?" Abram asked, perplexed.

"Hey," I muttered. "He's... I mean, he's..."

"He's what, George? And aren't you supposed to be with Peter?" Abram asked me.

I moved to the other side, where the pen was located. "He got this situation. I'll just write things for him."

"George?" blind dude repeated, looking at me.

"Did you recognize my voice? I was the one a few weeks ago. In the streets. The one who said burn? The bottle? The shop?" The one whose glass window I almost hit with an empty plastic bottle. Not that it would break, but it might have done a little damage. One I wouldn't be able to pay for.

"Your voice?" Abram asked, completely puzzled.

I spelled out for old man, without letting blind dude hear, "B-l-i-n-d."

"Blind?" Abram echoed back, a little loudly.

"Shh!" I hushed him.

"Ahh, you're that girl." At least blind dude didn't seem to be offended.

"I can fill out the form for you," I offered him. "You know, just want to help. For the sake of humanity and all that."

"You really like coming to my rescue," he commented, sounding amused. Which was good. At least he wasn't angry at us for talking behind his back. Or in front. I was technically standing in front of him.

Whatever.

"The name," I asked, clicking the pen.

He paused.

"The form. I'm filling out the form, dude," I said to him. "So your name, please?"

"Okay, I guess you really are. It's Ar..." he paused.

I waited.

But he didn't continue what he was saying. And from the looks of it, he was clearly doing it on purpose. Annoyed, I slammed the pen to the desk. "I'm trying to be patient, but you're pushing it way too far. Are you kidding me or what?"

"You tend to get angry very easily," blind dude observed.

"George, you don't really want to talk to him like that," Abram said, lowering his voice like the way he did whenever he scolded me.

"I'm trying," I replied.

"I really mean it this time," old man said.

"I really understand," I answered. "I'm sorry about that bli—I mean, dude. So moving on, your name, please? Sir?"

"Arthur Luke," he replied.

I wrote it down. "Middle initial, sir?"

"D," he answered.

"Surname, sir?"

"Um, Cha..."

"Cha?" I clarified.

"Chase?"

"So Arthur Luke D. Chase, sir," I repeated, nodding my head. "What's your address, sir?"

"I live..." he paused again. The amusement on his faced hadn't faded away. I could almost see it reflected in his eyes if only he wasn't wearing his sunglasses. After a moment, he said, "It's next door."

"Next door, sir," I said, writing it down.

"You didn't write next door on my address, no?"

"I just did, sir," I said. "Phone number, sir?"

"Asking for my number already?"

"Gee... that's a really long phone number, sir," I said, still jotting what he had said. "I don't know if we can contact you with that number if we encounter a problem, sir."

"Get out, George. You're wasting the form." Old man grabbed the form from my hands.

"I... sir?"

"Get out of the room," he exclaimed. "I'm not playing any games here."

"I just..." I said. Maybe that was also childish of me. "Fine. Okay. I'm not helping. I'm sorry. He was really infuriating. You saw what he was doing, right?"

"And I saw what you also did. So get out of the room. Help Peter instead."

"Going now," I said, patting Hero on the head.

"You can do that?" blind dude asked me, taken aback.

"What?" Then realizing what I did a little too late, I quickly apologized, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have patted him on the head. He's on the job. I'm really sorry."

"It's all right," he replied. "I mean... he didn't bite off your arm, that's all."

"I think so?" I replied, shrugging. "My arm is still here."

"He's allergic to girls," blind dude said, as if he was stating a fact. Okay? Was that a joke? Or an insult?

"Right. He seems friendly enough. You can put my name on the special request space. I'll take care of him if you want," I offered, letting it slid. "He seems to think that I'm not a girl. Brilliant dog."

"Are you sure you can take care of him?"

"Of course, I can. I'm usually friendly to dogs. Humans, not quite."

"You have no important event for the day?" he implied.

I instantly got what he meant. Stammering, I tried to find my way around it, "Yeah. I don't have any plans today. Don't I, old man?"

"Not that I know of," Abram answered.

"See?" I said to blind dude. "I'm definitely capable of taking care of Hero."

"All right," he replied. "George, right? What's your surname, miss? Just in case there's another girl here with a name like yours."

"I'm the only George here. There's no need to waste ink," I told him.

He smiled in response.

♔~♕

Later that afternoon, I was wondering what excuse I should use to get out of here and get to the assembly hall on time. It was fifteen minutes past three, and my schedule was on four-thirty.

"You've been quiet for half an hour now." Pete stared at me, as he was drinking a glass of cold water. I laid my head on the water dispenser. Blob. Blob. Blob. He added, "You've been quiet for thirty one minutes now."

Shifting my gaze to another direction, I ignored him.

Blob.

Pete sat next to me. "Any problems you want to share with me? A guy I need to beat the life out?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Seriously? Do you really think there will be one?"

"Maybe?"

"You're not going anywhere today, right?"

"I don't think so? Why?"

"Can you watch the blind dude's dog for about an hour and a half. I'll be back by five," I said, all fingers holding on to hope.

"Where you going?" Pete asked.

"Somewhere. It's something important," I replied, vaguely.

Pete raised an eyebrow, a prickly habit. "That I don't know of?"

"I'll tell you when I'm ready to share the big news," I said, bluffing. "Seriously, though, just watch Hero for me. I'll be back before you know it."

"Grandpops?"

"He doesn't need to know," I confirmed.

"Okay. But this comes with a price," Pete told me. "Oh, never mind. When we're old enough to have nice jobs, you have to treat me to something nice."

"You have a deal." I smiled.

"Should we shake hands on this or something?"

"I'm going now, Pete," I said. I took a deep breath, calming myself. After my nerves settled down, I asked him, "Can I borrow the keys?"

He took out the set of keys out of his pocket and threw it to me. "Lock the door if you don't want to get caught."

"Sure thing," I replied, waving goodbye to him.

I headed to the unused door behind the kennels. My bag was already there; I already took it out of my locker after lunch. I put in the key, and the door unlocked. Pulling the handle, I made sure that the rusted hinges wouldn't make a disturbing sound as I went out.

Holding my duffel bag, I went running straight to a fast food restaurant. The crew, who was standing near the door, followed me with his gaze, as I quickly went to the bathroom. His greeting was held back, because I was out of the picture faster than he could say good afternoon.

There was no other place that I could think of. I couldn't change my clothes at the shelter or at home. After all, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that I would be rejected right away. I didn't expect anything, and I was prepared to get an instant no. Since this was the case, there was no need to create a scene and let other people know.

♔~♕

When I arrived at the Royal Assembly Hall ten minutes later, it turned out that the panel was not my only problem. It seemed like everything else but nothing had already rejected me.

Sequins.

Glitters.

Laces.

Was that a fur? In this kind of weather? Well, the hall was air-conditioned, so maybe I was the only one getting bothered by it. When I turned around, I saw someone's elegant violet dress had a pink neon light lining to it. This time, I could understand the fur. This was definitely a show-off party. All that was left was for someone to put on a dress with fairy lights.

But one thing I realized was that I should have worn something nicer for the sake of it. Every pair of eyes that landed on me spoke outrageous words of disapproval. I regretted putting on black slacks and matching blazers, thinking that this was a formal job interview. And for a job interview, this was the nicest pair of clothes that I'd worn. It was all black. It spurred out formality all over the places. While trying to blend in for the first time, I stood out for being normal.

Getting over the ludicrousness of the situation, I scanned the place. The hall was even more fascinating than when I first got here. And it was not just the place itself, but all around me, there were girls who could definitely pass as models. They composed nearly fifty percent of the population in this hall. There were some that you would call as pretty. And there were those who had striking features and nice angles. The wallflowers also flooded the ends of the room.

And then, there was me.

Among the beautiful flowers, I was some kind of a thorn. As if my existence seemed to harm them, even if I kept my distance and was standing a few good meters away. Nobody dared to have a conversation with me. They looked as if a step near me was a step next to absolute doom.

"Ms. Georgiette Elise McAlden, please come to the Conference Room No. 5," the speaker announced. Taking a deep breath, I put the gum that I was chewing to the trashcan, making sure that it landed in the right place and not on Mom no. 2's blazer. It was hard pulling out these clothes from her closet without her noticing.

There were plenty of rooms being utilized for the princess search. I read the signs posted on each door as I went down the hall. Despite feeling small, I straightened my back and kept my chin up. Since I was already here, I would try. If I could miraculously make it to the final interview, it wouldn't be that bad of a rejection.

"Ms. McAlden?" asked the lady—who was wearing an identical pair of clothes as I was—standing outside Conference Room No. 5's door. She was hesitant for a moment, looking at the clipboard that she was holding and then back at me.

"Yes, I'm Georgiette McAlden." I showed her my pass. She got the right person. It was just that we were wearing the same clothes.

"Oh." She smiled at me again. "Please come in."

"Thanks," I replied, trying to smile as well. I should at least perfect a forged smile when I didn't have any fancy dress to wear.

When I got inside the conference room, I saw five people. There was a secretary who recorded the interview. Three people composed the panel. The other one was a security personnel who was standing near the door.

"Applicant no. 5,107 will commence with her interview," the woman in the panel said to her mouthpiece. Nervousness startled to settle in. The panel was reviewing the application form that I had submitted when I was given a pass with my name and number at the reception desk earlier.

All of the members of the panel had an earpiece with a mic. It took me a moment before I noticed the black one-way mirror behind them.

"Good afternoon, Ms. McAlden," the one sitting on the farthest right greeted me.

"Good afternoon," I answered.

"Tell me about yourself," he said. The man was probably in his mid-fifties, wearing a formal suit and tie. "We want to get to know you."

"I'm Georgiette Elise Mc Alden," I started, trying to steady my shaky voice. "I live here in the capital, fresh out of high school, and I'm going to Triavia University next semester."

"What are you going to pursue there?" he asked.

"As of the moment, I'm still thinking about it," I replied.

"I see," he said, writing on my evaluation form.

"I'm sorry if this will sound rude, by why the choice of clothes? Is that intentional or..." the woman sitting in the middle couldn't help but ask.

"A mistake," I said.

"A mistake?" she repeated.

"I wasn't aware that dressing up in ball gowns was highly recommended," I elaborated. They should have stated that clearly that there was a dress code. Not that I had any ball gowns in my closet.

"It's the usual," she replied, nodding. "What are the things that you like to do? Any hobbies?"

"Hobbies?" Come to think of it, did I have any hobbies? Was living a hobby? It mostly took much of my time.

"Yes, hobbies." She forced a smile.

"Um, I like working," I answered, uncertain. What else could I have said?

"Oh, working?"

"Yes, I mean, making a living. I like being busy," I went on.

"I see. So getting busy is one of your hobbies. That's, well, interesting," she said, writing down on my form. I was probably the only one among the five thousand applicants whose hobby was making a living. After she was done writing on my form, she added, "Do you have any jobs in particular?"

"I'm a volunteer and part-timer in the shelter," I replied.

"Come again?"

"The animal shelter."

"Oh, the animal shelter," she said.

I nodded. "Yes, cats and dogs, mostly."

"So what can you offer us, then? By working there, what is your edge compared to other applicants?"

"I'm really good in dealing with animals," I told her before I could have thought it over. They didn't seem convinced that it was of any importance to the princess position. It wasn't like Triavia was an animal kingdom.

"Okay, that's nice," she said, putting down her pen, a perfect smile lingering on her lips. That was the smile I had to practice from now on. It definitely worked on posing a lingering thought on the other person's mind whether you meant the words you had said or not.

"Tell me about your family," said the last one, the oldest among the three. He had a gold monocle on his right eye.

"I live with my mom and dad," I said, hiding my anxiousness.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"None?" I lied. In truth, I had half-brothers. Twins. They were sons of Mom no. 1 and Roger. But I didn't want to talk about that other side of my life.

"You're not sure?"

"I mean, no. I'm an only child," I replied, straightening my words.

"Last question." Gold monocle cleared his throat. "Why do you want to be the next princess?"

"I... um..." I started to feel sweat prickling on my forehead. If I could lie about my half-brothers' existence, I also wanted to lie with this one as well. But with the look on their faces, my mind became devoid of imaginary make-believes. No perfect response clicked in my thoughts.

"Please answer the question, Ms. McAlden," gold monocle said, after half a minute of my stillness. "If you can't answer the question, I don't think you're fit to be—"

"The work," I said, cutting him before he'd get to say that I had already lost my chance.

"Work?"

"I... I want this to be my job." This was the truth. There was no other. And I had already failed. What was the use of pretending?

"A job?" The woman in the middle was baffled.

With a deep breath, I went on, "Yes, I'm currently looking for a new part-time job. I really need it. As you can see on my application form, my parents don't have jobs that pay enough. My dad doesn't even have a job. I want us to live."

"So you're after the money?" gold monocle clarified.

"This is ridiculous," the woman in the middle said.

"If you put it that way, then yes, I want that money," I replied, keeping my back straight. "It was the only way I could think as a means to survive for the next few months, to have an ample amount of allowance while in Triavia University, before I'd get another part-time job there, and everything else within the parameter of existing."

"I've never heard anyone say those kind of words without even faltering." The woman was appalled with my response.

"She's not the only one who's here for that reason, and we all know that. Although, I must say that she must be the only one who openly admitted to it," the man on the far right told the other two.

"She made it sound like it's a temporary position," the woman argued.

"Let's let her speak first," he told her. When the man turned to me, he said, "Go on, Ms. McAlden."

"For all of you here and whoever's behind that one-way glass, I probably appear like I'm only after the money this palace has. And I am—not everything, but the part that will be paid for the job of the princess-in-training that I will surely spend time and effort to if given the chance. It's an honest answer."

They were all silent for a minute.

And then, I saw the man on the right smile at me. "I believe we have heard what we wanted to hear. You're permitted to go now, Ms. McAlden."

"Thank you," I said, getting up and steadying my stance. Going against the world was one thing. Speaking so much about it, like I never did before, was another. I never imagined that it would be this overwhelming.

I could still hear whispers behind me as the door shut close. But as soon as I was out, I didn't care if I would appear to be a complete idiot. I took one long breath, as if I had lost a gallon in that room. There were no foolproof plans anymore. I had severed all the remaining hopes I could only wish I had.

"Nice answer," someone said from behind me.

I turned around, seeing a boy walking over to me. Without the sunglasses, his eyes were a clear shade of even green and miniature tints of blue, and it immediately hit me that he might not have had been blind from the start. He was wearing a clean suit—one that was distinguishable compared to the security personnel or to anyone here in this hall. Compared to me, even. Okay, so maybe everyone was up for a dress. But I couldn't think of anyone else. He was too young to hold a government position. Was he an ambassador? Of what kind?

"Hi, George," he said.

"Not you," was all I could say. He couldn't possibly be Prince William all of a sudden. I tried to recall the younger prince's face, afraid that he might end up being the person standing in front of me. I'd been disrespectful to this person a couple of times before. I even said that he was blind. He did leave his dog and walked out the shelter safely. Why didn't I think of that earlier? Why was my head all consumed with the princess search that I'd missed that one distinct fact?

Shit.

I was so dead if he was the prince. He must be someone else. For the sake of my life, anyone else. Even the prime minister's right hand or anything. His son. The cousin of someone in power out there?

"I just want to ask about my dog. If you're here, who's with Hero?" he asked me.

"Pete," I stuttered. "He's with my friend, who also works in the... in the shelter. Wait, who are you? Why are you here?"

"Is he a guy, no? This Pete you are talking about. I don't want to be in the news for making my dog bite off a girl's arm," he replied.

"Yes. But you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" I said out of desperation.

"I'm part of the panel. Well, as you figured out, the one sitting at the other side of the one-way glass," he replied.

"Really?" I said, relieved. He said that he was a part of the panel. That was good enough for now. "But you look so young. The others are already in their forties or fifties."

"I'm not secretly forty, though," he said, laughing a bit. "I also apologize for lying to you this morning and making you angry. Before you start to hate me, my surname is not Chase. You didn't seem to know me, so I kind of went along with it."

"And you also faked being blind!"

"You were the one who assumed it, no?"

"You never said you weren't."

"But I never said I was."

"Fine. I will not argue with you about it anymore. Did you have fun while I helped you, thinking you were blind?"

"For the first time in a while."

"Right." I rolled my eyes. I should stop. Since he was here, it could only mean that he had some kind of position. I should avoid public execution by any means, as it was my goal in life to exist. Or since there were no more public executions in this age, I should just avoid getting imprisoned for being disrespectful to public officials.

"Do you want to walk with me back to the shelter? To fetch back my dog that you left when you said that you would take care of him?"

"I didn't leave him unattended."

"And your boss didn't seem to know that you were going to the interview. Your work ends at five, no? You don't want him to catch you slacking."

"Yes, Abram has no clue. I beg you don't tell," I said, walking towards the exit. "Let's go."

"Wait, wait, let's take another door," he called, pointing to a hall that was off limits to the public.

"I'm not sure they'd let us in," I said to him. "You, probably. You seem to work here."

"I'll take care of it. Follow me," he replied.

"How?" I asked, but I followed him nonetheless. At least in this place, there were no judgmental eyes, just a few security personnel, who seemed to ignore us walking freely around the place. Some of them even bowed down their heads when we passed by, so I did the same.

"Why are they letting us through? Are you a friend of them? One of them?" I speculated. He only smiled, opening a door. I told him, "It would lessen my worry if I know why you're part of the panel. What kind of position do you have?"

"It's Chateaubriand, my surname," he said. I stopped from walking, staring at him in disbelief. With a grin, he asked, "You really have no idea what I look like, no?"

"Your Highness, wait!" There was someone running over to us. I looked left and right. There was no one wearing any form of crown here. Even in the Royal Assembly Hall, the list of people who should be rightfully called as such was very short.

"What's with the hurry, Buzz?" blind dude, formerly, asked the one who came running over.

"Your Highness, please, the Queen wanted you to join them for dinner," the one out of breath said. He was definitely talking to former blind dude. Or dude. I still hadn't thought of a new name for him. "The king will leave tomorrow morn, so it's of best interest if all of you will be complete on the dining table tonight."

"Relax, Buzz. I'm just going to fetch Hero. I'll be back before dinner," former blind dude told him.

"Of course, Hero!" the one called Buzz said in relief.

"Yes," he said. "Tell Mom that I'll be back before she sets foot in the dining hall."

"Have a safe trip, Your Highness. Do you need an escort?" Buzz asked him.

"You know me," he replied.

"I understand. I won't say a word, as it normally goes. I'll be going now, Your Highness. If you'll excuse me," Buzz said, before bowing his head and heading his way.

"Are you still there?" He waved a hand in front of me. "Let's go."

I didn't dare to move. I couldn't. I could take the betrayal I felt when I had found out that he wasn't blind. But not this. He was calling the Queen, my undisclosed life hero, as Mom.

Like, Mom.

"Come on, George. As you have heard, I need to be back for dinner," he was saying to me.

"Are you the younger prince?" I asked, unable to meet his eyes. Thinking I was addressing him wrong, I tried adding, "Your Highness?"

"Oh, come on. You don't seem to be the type who'll scream in my face and faint, so don't even try doing that now," he said, motioning for me to walk along.

"I..." I stammered, thinking of a way to get out of this situation. "I'm not supposed to be here. I'm..."

He held me back by the arm. "You're already here. You even tried to be the next princess. It's not like anyone dragged you to this place."

To be this person's wife. Now it was starting to sink in. "I didn't really mean to be your wife."

He was surprised.

"I mean... I'm sorry it came out that way," I apologized. At this moment, all I wanted was to bury my face to the ground out of shame. "What I'm trying to say is... the endpoint of this search. I... Sure, it's kind of like looking far into the future. But, like, it's what it is, technically."

"I try not to think about it to that extent," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm as overwhelmed as anybody who's suddenly being set-up with somebody with marriage in mind."

"You probably are," I said in agreement. "This search is like an arranged marriage, only one that's being set-up by the kingdom. We really have absurd traditions here in Triavia, don't we?"

He gave it a thought. "Well, it's tradition, but it's not exactly that absurd."

"Sorry," I suddenly blurted.

"What for?"

"I shouldn't have said that our traditions are absurd. Also, I'm sorry for all the things I did to you before. I have no idea that you were the younger prince, Your Highness."

"There's no need for an apology. It's nice to hear someone talk to me like I'm just anyone," he said. "And between the two of us, you don't need to call me Your Highness."

"I can't exactly call you blind dude all the time," I replied, shrugging.

He laughed. "Art would do."

"Um, yeah. Wow, this place is decent," I said, looking around. We arrived in the garden, and that gave me enough excuse not to crush his hopes. If he were someone else, it would have been easier to jump from status titles to nicknames. In his case, he would have to settle for Your Highness. But it shouldn't matter anyway. There was no need for me to call his name in the future.

"There's a secret door on that side, and I have a duplicate of the key," he indicated. As we were walking, I was fascinated with the square water fountain, with pillars blue pillars on each corner. It was surrounded by flowers of different colors, contained inside neatly trimmed shrubs.

Prince Arthur led me to the secret door that he was talking about. When we got outside, it was a parking lot. A few blocks later on, I realized that it was a shortcut to the animal shelter.

"Your interview was great," he complimented me.

"No way." I shook my head. "I pretty much messed it up. I'm positive that I gave all of them a headache."

He smiled. "Not all of them. We had a great time watching you across the one-way window."

"I knew it!" I said. "There were really people over there."

"It's what it's for," he replied. "We've arrived at the shelter. Are you going to use the front door to get in?"

"I can't," I told him. "Abram wouldn't be thrilled to see me there. I snuck out earlier."

"I'll see you inside," he said.

"You know where to find me when your sitter decides to leave again," I told him, as he was watching me put in the key to the steel door behind the kennels.

"I think we'll see each other for some other reason," he said.

"While you're crossing the street under a disguise?"

"For the final interview," he answered, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "I'll let you in some secret. You have passed the initial interview. Congratulations, Ms. McAlden."