Calix

Isha Sen is everything that I do not want in my potential future partner.

I have been furious at the woman because of the burden and disappointment I have had to go through this past one week. And I am not sure the irritation at her will die down any time soon. When Father told me about his fake-dating brilliant plan, I wanted to jump off a cliff. Literally speaking. But who am I cross the mighty ruler, right? After all, I need to maintain a poised and graceful image for the sake of my brother, the Crown Prince. Just the way I have since I was thirteen.

It is pathetic. But it is after all my bitter reality.

I am not a person who is very fond of attending social events. For the sake of being a prince, I have to attend them anyway. As father says, to recognize my duties and responsibilities. And I am definitely not a party-going or club person. That is Carlos, who sneaks out of Nirvana once in a while to attend clubs and party hard. He should be thankful and nicer, since I have never snitched on him. Pity spoke to me, and I understood that not all Crown Princes can stay cooped up in suits and attend meetings, while also training rigorously for the future throne, that is to be his. I understand due to having been the past Crown Prince.

I was leading my life perfectly. Quietly. In my own world and preparing to become Carlos's right-hand Royal Minister when, Isha Sen came into my life like a tumultuous whirlwind.

Father was right. Too much kindness is harmful at times. I simply wanted to comfort a heavily intoxicated lady, who seemed to have mistaken me for her ex-lover. Who would have thought that she would go to the extent of kissing me?

Her lips were soft, though. A voice speaks inside my head and I have to immediately shut it off at the ridiculous thought.

"Listen, uh..." Isha trails off while I guide her through the long corridors, after our meeting. "I never got the chance but I am sorry, Your Royal Highness."

I send a curt nod. Isha's lips are put up in a straight line at my lack of response, but she doesn't prod further.

She stumbles again on nothing and grasps my arm to steady herself. A sigh of infuriation leaves my mouth at the clumsy woman. She isn't even wearing heels, yet she doesn't fail to lose her balance. This will be twice, including when she had made an awkward mess out of herself, in front of the King.

No etiquettes. Absolutely no manners. Just so not very my type. Yet, I have to tolerate this clumsy, insufferable woman, who wears shirts that mock Politics, on meetings with the King and goes around drinking when she clearly has a low alcohol tolerance. Even her hair is tied up in a messy bun.

Not that it makes her look less beautiful.

I suck in a tight breath, drawing a curious glance from the lady beside me. My mind has been a mess from stress and nothing else and I blame all of it on Isha Sen. So much so for trying to comfort a drunken woman, who possesses absolutely no sense of responsibility.

"Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?" Isha asks with a concerned gaze. Well, I think it is rather a gaze full of pity. Other than pity, none has shown me concern ever, so why would an outsider bother is out of my understanding.

"None of your business, Miss Sen," I answer in a monotonous voice, although it may have sounded quite rude.

"Rude." And as expected, she murmurs under her breath, but it is clearly audible.

"You might as well be showering me with profanities and I would still hear it, judging from your incredible sense of producing murmurs."

I stifle a chuckle when Miss Sen's face visibly grows with fury and shock. She did not expect such a straightforward, sarcastic response from me, it seems.

"Your Royal Highness," Isha soon recovers from her previous state of being in shock and speaks to me in a sickeningly sweet manner, "I do realize my mistake from that night. But my one mistake does not give you the right to behave in such a way with me. Especially when you decided to lie about us being friends-with-benefits, without informing me beforehand."

I hum. "Yet, my memory tells me, I wasn't the one to ignore my alcohol tolerance and kiss a stranger without asking for their consent. You should consider yourself fortunate that His Majesty doesn't know the truth."

A shuddering breath leaves her lips as Miss Sen mumbles a small sorry. "I get it. I was reckless that night. I didn't kiss you because I wanted to kiss you or anything, okay? My drunken self and blurry vision without my glasses made me believe you were someone I knew."

"Proof of an irresponsible woman."

"Can you stop, please?" Miss Sen snaps finally, halting her steps. She looks straight into my eyes, her heated gaze burning holes in my skull when I pause to match the fiery stare. "Being a prince doesn't mean you can behave like an assho—uncultured being to a person you don't even know properly. I began this mess. Yes, I agree. And I am guilty of my wrongful actions. But you have to at least try and be civil with my situation. My life isn't perfect and lavishing like yours. I have a lot on my plate. Not to mention, how I handle my alcohol tolerance is none of your concern. I'm not a creepy pervert who goes around kissing strangers, alright? It was a misunderstanding, given my poor condition that night—"

How dare she. How dare she judge that my life is perfect.

"Stop." My cold response brings Miss Sen surprisingly, to a pause. I inch closer when she takes a step back. "You. Know. Nothing. About. My. Perfect. Life. Hence, I'd advise you not to jump to conclusions based on imaginative assumptions, just because I am a prince."

A scornful smile appears on my face. "As you have already admitted, everything is your fault. And I do hope you are sensible and mature enough to be ready to clean up your mess. There was nothing in it for me. Yet, I had to lie in order to save your life from being completely ruined. Miss Sen, be thankful and stop engaging in arguments with me when you are clearly the root of all problems."

It seems Miss Sen desires to say more in defence. Her pride is similar to mine, of course. I neither have the energy nor the interest in listening to her irrational tantrums. Fortunately, we have already reached the steps which will lead her out of Nirvana's main building.

I turn around to leave, ignoring Miss Sen's attempt to say things in protest. She finally gives up and turns the opposite direction to the Jaguar waiting for her. However, before she can walk away, I close the distance to utter the words so that only the two of us can hear my next statements.

"I have your contact information, Miss Sen. You will receive a message from me soon, regarding the terms and conditions of our fake relationship, including our next meeting."

I do not bother to explain what I meant by meeting, and walk away.

I am already exhausted enough from the bickering, which is quite natural for someone like me who despises engaging in long conversations, especially baseless arguments.

I wonder how I am going to tolerate this insufferable woman till next year's Summer.

Sounds of knives, forks, spoons clanking against one another on the plates are the only lively source. I cut through the perfectly cooked steak, and put a piece of hot, pink meat inside my mouth, taking my sweet time in savouring the taste. Yet, for some reason, the steak tastes bitter tonight. Not literally, rather figuratively.

Queen Veronica, who is sitting beside Father on the right side, with me on her left, instructs the servers and other workers to leave the dining room. My brother Carlos, sitting on Father's left, looks up with subtle curiosity. Unknowingly, our eyes meet. It's truly strange how I never thought to find the reason why I had deep blue eyes, and him, hazel eyeballs. Even our hair colours do not match, since he takes a lot after Queen Veronica. Perhaps, if I had noticed earlier, it would have saved me from the despair of learning about my lineage.

Carlos presents me with a cold look, clearly expressing how frustrated he is with me, every single time. Although I won't say my gaze on him is warm, either.

"Well, do you have something to say to me, Calix?"

Whenever it's just the four of us, or us away from the public eye or from other workers, Queen Veronica always addresses me by my first name. Not Prince Calix. At least someone in Nirvana treats me like a member of this messed up family.

"About what, Queen Veronica—"

"No no, dear," Queen Veronica shakes her head immediately, "Call me Mother. I am not your Queen right now, but your mother, and we are having a conversation over a family dinner, alright?"

I nod, with a small smile creeping onto my face. "Yes...Mother." I notice Carlos instinctively clenching his fork.

"So," Mother continues, a cheeky grin already painted on her lightly tinted lips, "I have been hearing news about a certain girl who has perhaps managed to break the frosted heart of the first prince of Syncitia?"

I laugh heartily. Only Mother can make me laugh like this, even though her presumption is entirely wrong. I bet she has been romanticizing about every girl with whom I tend to have dating scandals, to be my, the one. The romance novels that she likes to delve into are the reason behind her such vivid imaginations.

It pains me to turn down her wish of one day seeing me settle down with the woman of my dreams, and receive true happiness. Because that is never going to happen. Royalties do not get opportunities to love anyone and everyone. I do, since I am not the Crown Prince and a bastard prince, but even then, people of high status will look down upon me, if I engage in a romantic relationship with someone who is not an aristocrat. Thus, I haven't been quite confident about this whole fake dating thing. Even Father's idea was such since it is but a false one and temporary, after all.

"It is nothing like that, Mother," I say with a small smile.

Mother's smile drops immediately, as she tilts her head in curiosity, "Oh, then what is it?"

I sneak a quick glance at Father. When he sends me a nod of confirmation, I reveal the entire scenario, excluding certain parts. Although Carlos doesn't glance at me, I know he is listening with utter intrigue.

When I finish speaking, a look full of concern takes over Mother's face. Knowing her, I have been aware that she will get worried over nothing.

"Are you sure that this case of false relationship will be alright?" Mother glances both at me and Father, who is having his dinner in silence. "What if the truth gets out there in the public and Calix gets hurt. We know how outraged and out of hand the public can—"

"Veronica." Father's unwavering call of her name, makes Mother pause. She waits for Father to speak. "We have to take the risk for Carlos. The mess caused by someone as irresponsible as Calix must be cleaned up, and he should be the one to do so. The coronation ceremony has to be successful. Do not forget, we have several evil eyes on us, especially now that Syncitia has developed a lot within the short span of twenty years."

Right. Carlos has always been the top priority, and I, despite knowing that, still feel my heart breaking into millions of broken pieces. It's painful but bearable, at least for now.

Mother tries to speak in my defence once again, and I appreciate her concern like I always have, but no one speaks against Father's decision. We are all aware of that. At the end, Mother reluctantly agrees to Father, for the sake of Carlos.

Carlos. Carlos. Carlos. All the damn time, Carlos. Why does royal blood matter to aristocrats so much? Why cannot they choose someone as their ruler, based on skills and leadership abilities. From such an ancient perspective, Carlos will bring Syncitia to ruins, because of his incompetence.

An uncanny silence prevails in the dining room. When I look up from my plate, three pairs of eyes are on me. Carlos' is filled with unreadable emotions, Mother's with shock and distress, as for Father...I can only conclude that he is dancing with wrath itself.

By the time I realize that I have accidentally voiced out my thoughts, Father chuckles. Dryly. With fury.

"Do you mean to say that I make rash decisions, Calix?"

No Father. This had forever been my usual response. But for some reason, I speak up my inner thoughts.

"You did cast me aside without discussing the matter over with me, after the news about me being an illegitimate child got out, didn't you? Did you ever consider how a thirteen-year-old may feel after hearing his father announcing, right on his birthday, that his younger brother will become the new Crown Prince? The least you could have done was inform me before—"

"Enough!" A loud slam causes all three of us to flinch. The wine glass is now on the floor, with the red liquor slithering around like a venomous snake. Father's temperament can get out of hand and knowing that, Mother stands up to calm him down, but Father speaks first.

He points to the door, his glaring eyes clashing with mine. "Out. You do not get to talk to your King or speak intolerable things about your future King. If I receive such behaviour from you hereafter, then I will be tempted to throw you in the prison."

"Richard, that's too harsh—"

The King stops Mother from interfering further with a sharp glance, before refocusing his attention on me.

"Till the time you learn to manage that behaviour of yours, you are not allowed to have any meals with us. Have it in your room, with your immature attitude. Now leave, and do not dare to call me Father, unless you are ready to apologize on your knees to both me and Carlos."

I stand up without any hesitancy, and bow with my static demeanour. "As you wish, Your Majesty. I apologize to His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Carlos, for speaking ill of him and for judging your decision. However, I will not be getting on my knees because whatever I have uttered is, without doubt, true."

With that being said, I leave the dining room, with Mother's desperate calls for me fading behind. Carlos must be satisfied with how everything is always played out in his favour.

I know that I and Father will be back to our usual speaking terms because we have had arguments like this before. But tonight was different. And I can't help but think if I have crossed the line.

I halt my steps half-way and contemplate whether I should return, but even if I apologize on my knees now, Father's pride will not allow him to forgive me. Running frustrated fingers through my hair, I enter my bedchamber eventually.

As memories of our argument keep running through my mind while I begin to change into my nightly attire, my phone vibrates.

When I tap on the messages acquired, a light, humorous smile creeps up onto my face.

Miss Sen: I have read all the terms and conditions with utmost concentration, but I am deeply embarrassed to answer that I have absolutely no intention of changing my attitude for someone else. For your kind information, I have basic knowledge of formal attires and behavioural etiquettes. Today, I was simply surprised as it appears you guys have a tendency to announce a sudden meeting with royals and bringing them to their residence, without any prior information, I suppose.

Therefore, respectfully, shove that formality up your ass, however rude it may sound, Your Royal Highness. We don't want arguments to occur before we can even announce our relationship, right?

Miss Sen: Point to be noted, I am neither dying to kiss you nor to share your number with anyone. I hope to see you getting off your high horse, someday.

Miss Sen: Have a good night's sleep, and please let the bed bugs bite. ^⁠_⁠^

A foreign sound reverberates from my chest. A laugh. Genuine, sincere laugh. I compose myself and clear my throat before changing Miss Sen's name to Impertinent Lady.

Isha is going to be the death of me, it seems.