The Prince's Mate

The Prince's Mate - chpt. 2 - Dinner for Ten

The Prince’s Mate

Chapter two – Dinner for Ten

 

            I cried out as Mr. Malack dragged the brush through my golden hair again. It was horribly tangled and knotted making it nearly impossible to brush. I had spent the last week being pampered and prepared for the Prince. I spent three of those days doing nothing more than sleeping and eating. Mr. Malack wanted to get rid of the gaunt look in my face.

            “Stop whining,” he ordered. I grumbled something under my breath and picked at my new nails. A few women had come in yesterday and had applied fake nails to my natural ones. They said that mine were beyond repair.

            “You’re hurting me,” I complained.

            Mr. Malack just laughed, “Beauty is pain, gorgeous.” I looked down and allowed him to continue to tug away at my hair. I couldn’t care less about meeting the Prince; I wanted nothing more than to return home to my simple life.

            “What am I being prepared for—I mean other than the Prince of course,” I asked nervously.

            Mr. Malack sighed, “It’s another grooming, what they do is bring all the most likely girls from across the country and bring them to the Prince. Basically, all of the ones who have potential sit down and have dinner.”

            “Potential? How do they know what it takes to be his mate? Is there a certain criteria?” I was sure I didn’t fill any of the requirements.

            Mr. Malack sighed, “Well, there isn’t much to go off of. All they have is a picture.”

            I frowned, “A picture? How do they have a picture?”

            “Ah, look, the curling iron is ready. I’m having one of my assistances pull some possible dress choices for you, is there any colour you like in particular?”

            “Blue...?” I said, sounding unsure.

            Mr. Malack nodded, “A nice deep blue would look good since you are pale, it matches your eyes too, and they’re lovely by the way. They’re breathtaking, they remind me of the depths of the ocean.”

            I smiled faintly, “My mother had the same eyes.” Mr. Malack didn’t speak again as he worked wonders on my hair and then polished my face. Yesterday, they had waxed my legs and eyebrows, to say it stung is an understatement. My skin burned for hours.

            “What happens if I am not chosen by the Prince?”

            Mr. Malack shrugged indifferently, “I guess you just go home.” I nodded as a new plan formulated in my head. “I don’t know why you would want to though; I mean to live in the Palace with the Prince? It would be a great life.”

            “I have a family back home Mr. Malack,” I said coldly, “Nothing the Prince could offer me stands a chance.”

            Mr. Malack sighed, “I wasn’t trying to offend you dear, I’m just saying. The Prince is a good man, hotheaded and a little arrogant, but he looks out for his loved ones and for his country. He would be a great father.”

            I scrunched my nose up, “He will not be fathering my children, I wouldn’t want my kids to have to handle the pressure of running a country. I want a simple life, a quiet one.”