Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9
I finished the rest of the interview smoothly. I was told that I will need to get fingerprinted and that if I am selected, I should receive a certificate of sponsorship from the Royal Household via email.
As I was leaving the office of the Royal Household, I was unfortunate to learn that it was raining, terribly. A guard came to my side, presumably to escort me to the exit gate. “Come on,” he motioned, preparing to step from the shelter we were under. He’s got me f----d up if he thinks I’m stepping out into the rain. I may have had my hair pulled back into a low puffy ponytail, but the amount of gel it took to even get it to lay this flat was ridiculous. This hairstyle needed to last me a good four days at least.
“Uh uh, I need an umbrella,” I informed him, staying put in my stance.
He turned back to me and tilted his head a bit. I tilted mine the opposite way. Did I stutter?
“Listen, ma’am. I have a job I have to return to. It’s just rain,” he drawled, openly annoyed.
“It’s rain to you, but once I leave this castle I have to walk down that steep hill again while it pours,” I defended. Was he not understanding where I was coming from? “Can we just wait for a few minutes, please,” I begged in a softer tone. I didn’t want my hair or the only suit I owned to get ruined in this rain.
The man stared at me for a while as he tightened his lips and breathed heavily through his nose. “No, let’s go,” in one swift movement, the guard grabbed me by my wrist and began tugging me.
“Wait,” I bellowed.
“Wait,” a separate voice shouted.
The guard and I turned our attention to the third voice. It was a man with long blonde hair that stopped at the base of his neck. His eyes were a piercing bright blue, and he seemed to walk with this strong elegance in strides. Was he a Royal?
I immediately confirmed my suspicion when the guard unlatched his fat ass sausage fingers from around my wrist and quickly bowed. “Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness,” the guard greeted as he tapped me to do the same. I nervously bowed the same way the shitty guard did and repeated his words poorly.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness—.”
” Royal,” the guard hissed.
“Greetings, Your Royal Highness,” I corrected myself. Are you happy motherfucker? I don’t even have the job yet and this guy was already being a stick up my ass.
I stood up the moment I saw the guard standing straight. The Royal figure, likely a prince, didn’t look exactly like the one I saw on TV yesterday but he looked very similar and younger.
“What’s going on,” he inquired, directing his interrogation to me.
“I’m just trying-.”
“Sir. Begin your sentences with ‘sir ‘ when speaking to His Royal Highness,” the guard demanded, venom laced in his voice.
“Okay, well, how am I supposed to know that,” I quickly shot back at the interrupting cow, giving him a deep scowl. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the alleged-prince. “Anyway,
Sir ,” I put emphasis on the word. “I’m trying to catch the next bus but as you can see, it’s pouring down raining, and this guard doesn’t have an umbrella to lend me,” I explained, leaving out the part when the guy was about to force me into the rain.
“And I assume, you’re not going in this rain while your hair is exposed, correct,” he hypothesized, and I confirmed with a nod. “Well, being the gentleman I am,” he grabbed the umbrella that his guard had been holding. “And because I don’t want your hair to get ruined, you can borrow mine,” he handed me the umbrella.