Isha

Prince High Horse: I am done with the meeting. On my way in a few minutes after I pay a visit to my therapist (I am fine, don't worry). Are you finished conversing with Queen Veronica, yet? No rush, of course. Take your time.

I am sure you are heading to the library now? Be there and have a look around. I'll come soon. :)

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My heart beats faster than I could ever fathom a human heart could possibly pump blood. Perhaps I should later give a lecture to Prince Calix on establishing boundaries. His words, that he means out of nothing but his charming kindness, are oddly flattering (and fluttering). He does not know what these little words do to me. Especially now that I am aware of my little crush on him.

If he keeps speaking in such a delicate vocabulary, I am afraid my delusional mind will be far too gone.

And it might be heartbreaking.

I slip back into the bitter reality when the melodious musical notes of a piano, as if the symphonies are being guided across a glimmering river under the first glamour of the sun, dancing and prancing giddily, with a little touch of melancholy hidden beneath, hit my eardrums. I might not have a talent for music but it has always attracted me.

After all, music speaks to the soul, rather than the skin.

A soft smile flitters across my lips as I follow the notes and find myself at the far end of the corridor, in front of a comparatively small hall. My fingers are tensed as I contemplate if I should peek in my head through the slightly ajar door and listen to it, or, like a normal human being, ask for the permission of watching the person play, whoever they may be.

I take in a deep breath and softly push through the large door, consisting of intricate designs of flowers, fruits, and vines. The sound of piano pauses the moment I step inside. God, I feel bad. I just hope I do not appear as rude or a creep.

"Hello—" the words get stuck in my throat when instead of a stranger, I find Crown Prince Carlos beaming at me, his eyebrows raised, and the infamous amused grin plastered as always. He has a black tuxedo on and hair done which could possibly mean he has somewhere to go or simply, sneaked out from his work schedule. I feel sorry for this guy's secretary.

"Well, well, well, so it is true after all. Isha Sen really did get invited by my mother. She must like you then." Carlos positions his figure in my direction, crossing one leg over another. "I feel sad though." A fake, very cringe pout appears on his lips. "You turned my invitations down, but not Mother's."

Well duh, she is the queen. Of course I cannot just pass on this golden opportunity.

For the past two weeks, Carlos has been messaging me. Harmless texts, like sending reels, random informative videos on birds, finding many ways to talk to me for a long time. Last Thursday I was out at a shopping mall, browsing through clothes, when the Crown Prince gave me the fright of my life by appearing behind me, dressed in all black and face covered; without his secretary or bodyguards.

And I may have smacked his head with my purse, out of assumption he was a robber. As for the entire day, although I was always on alert at the fear we might soon get ambushed by Carlos' fans if they noticed his identity under the guise, but the prince was pretty laid back about the whole situation. In fact, he even treated me to different types of food in the mall (down for free food any day). That day I realized, Carlos wasn't a bad company. He was just too...smug.

Scratch that. Very smug actually. But with a decent personality who could perhaps be included in my list of friends. But the thought of having the Crown Prince as my friend is a bit overwhelming, to be honest.

I change the subject swiftly. "You can play piano."

Like a golden retriever, his eyes brighten up for whatever reason and I swear an imaginary wagging tail has appeared behind him. "Do you like piano?"

"I do actually," I hum, approaching the piano and gliding my fingers across the smooth black surface, "It's peaceful. Sweet. Connects more with my soul, instead of other instruments."

"What do you think of the people who can play piano?" he questions giddily.

"You mean like pianists. They are—"

"Not pianists, Isha." Carlos frowns. "In general. People with different professions who know how to play piano. Excellently, with passion.

Someone like me."

"Why do I feel like this question has nothing to do with music?" I squint my eyes in suspicion, receiving a playful chuckle in return.

"Just answer my question, Isha."

"Your Royal Highness—"

"Carlos." His words were calm, but with a certain sense of firmness to it. "Call me Carlos, Isha. We are not random strangers or mere acquaintances anymore that you cannot call me by my name, especially since I am willingly giving you the permission. Besides, if it helps you feel better, no one is around."

I heave a sigh. "Alright. Carlos. Happy?"

"Yes." The smug smile once again adorns his lips. "Continue please. What about the people who can play piano, despite not being professional pianists?"

I hum again, considering the question. "Honestly, I think learning one or two instruments even if you are not pursuing a career in music sounds great. It is productive. Definitely helps in creating a healthy environment and stable mental equilibrium. To be true, I also wanted to learn piano as a teenager, but never had the time."

"Shall I teach you?"

The Crown Prince's question takes me a bit by surprise. "Like, right now?"

"Yes Isha." He smiles. "Right now." He slides across the bench he was sitting on, and taps on the space beside him. I hesitantly join him, not sure if I have the skills in me to follow with his teachings.

"I will press three keys. Memorize the three keys and repeat in this rhythm. One, two, three...two, one, two, three...one, two, three, two, one, two, three." I listen attentively and watch in awe as with just three keys, Carlos is able to create a perfect melody.

I follow his guidance and soon feel my chest shiver at how the music is flowing out of my fingers. Finally. Initially, I made mistakes. Many. It was quite sloppy too however, I soon regained the concentration and grip as I smoothly, skim my fingers across the piano keys.

I jerk up my head in surprise with a gleeful smile when Carlos joins me, creating adlibs on the opposite end of the piano. Both of us create perfect synchronization, co-working harmoniously.

"That was great." Carlos smiles proudly, doing a little cheer and clap after about five minutes of us playing and being lost in the musical world.

"The credit goes to you, Carlos." It still feels a bit strange to address the Crown Prince by his first name.

However, it does not make me feel uncomfortable in any way when I call Calix by his name. It feels, sweet and oddly warm enough to melt humongous icebergs.

"Isha, your mind drifted off again." Carlos chuckles as I blush furiously, shaking my head. I do tend to have my mind occupied by a certain blonde for the past few weeks.

Or 2 months.

"You are thinking about him, are you not? Calix."

I cannot help but scrunch up my eyebrows at the hurt and lingering tone of distaste in his voice.

"Even if I did, what is it to you?"

Carlos grits his jaws and clenches his teeth. "Everything."

"I do not understand—"

Carlos looks up, staring right up at me with his vulnerable pair of eyes, yearning for love.

"Why can you not just stop focusing on Calix for a moment and give your attention to others? To me."

My heart thunders in my chest as the nervousness seeps into me. I really do hope he is not doing what I am assuming he is.

"Carlos—"

"Goddamnit Isha, I like you. Too much, that I fear I have drowned deep into my emotions. I certainly know, as the Crown Prince, imagining a relationship with you is not possible but—"

A loud crash catches both of our attention. We turn to look at the door, and when we do, my heart seems to have dropped to my feet.

Calix. Calix is standing there, an unreadable expression of pure pain and exhaustion on his face as he frantically picks up the antique figurine, he had accidentally knocked over. He fumbles nervously, forcing a smile on his lips when his eyes meet mine. "I apologize for the interruption. Please...please carry on." And before I can speak, have a chance to explain even though I do not owe him any explanation, Calix dashes out.

My feet automatically rise, picking up pace as I exit the hall when a hand catches my wrist.

"Isha, please, I need you—"

"And I need Calix." I utter the words before I can stop them. "I am sorry Carl—Your Royal Highness, but I cannot reciprocate your feelings. You are a kind man and I wish you the best in life. Hopefully, you will one day find the one who returns your love."

I gently remove my wrist from the Crown Prince's grasp, before running in the direction where Calix has gone. I know I have hurt Carlos deeply, but it is better to establish the truth rather than dragging the situation on. This might tamper the friendship between us—

"The East Garden. 5th floor. Follow the corridor till you reach the open garden. That is where Calix is, I believe."

A sting of guilt shoots me, hearing the broken voice and Carlos trying his best not to tear up. I send him a smile, before uttering a small thank you and heading to the designated place.

Calix, I hope you are alright.