Wicked Chase

♚ Chapter Thirteen

[dedicated to Em for being a beautiful writer]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I've never quite been a fan of dresses. I had always preferred my comfortable jeans and a simple top to anything that was associated with being fancy because it made me uncomfortable. Dresses were gorgeous things to wear but after a couple of hours of donning on one it gets irritating and I'm not the one to adjust my dress every few minutes.

But staring at one of the wardrobes that adorned one edge of the room I couldn't help but marvel the beauty of them all. They were of different colours, different and alluring shades and hues of attractive colours that undoubtedly would suit my fair complexion. My fingers brushed against the soft fabrics of the dresses, feeling the different materials - silk, lace, soft cotton and so many other different materials that I wasn't able to identify due to the dazed state I was left in when I opened the dress wardrobe.

There was a knock on the door that pulled me out of my reverie almost immediately and I instinctively fisted my hands before I took a couple of breaths in order to calm my slightly panicked state. I wouldn't have been this paranoid if the recent events in my life didn't take place but they did and so I had every right to feel paranoid, even if it was only the slightest bit of paranoia that kept me on high alert.

Keeping my hand in a tight fist I called out, instead of making my way to the door to answer it, "come in."

I half expected a tall, dark and towering man to emerge from behind the door but Alastair Ignacio was nowhere in sight. Instead of Alastair stepping into the room, a curvy dark skinned maiden made her way into the room, closing the door behind her. She looked at me, a genuine smile on her lips and even though her smile was genuine I saw the slight tendril of anxiousness flicker through her bright, brown eyes. Maybe she thought me to be my father. I wasn't exactly aware of my father's behaviour or how he presented himself but by the way he lashed out on Alastair yesterday I had gathered enough information to categorise him as powerful, dominant and rather rude.

"I'm Bronia Eastway," the woman that stood before me said, giving me a low bow before raising her head and saying, so respectfully that I had to hold in my godsmacked expression, "your Royal Highness."

"Gosh," I said instantly, "don't call me that. Gen will do."

Her eyes widened and while I was certain that my words made her feel shocked, I wasn't sure if she was shocked that I was nothing like she expected or that I asked her to refer to me as Gen rather than that high-class, ridiculous term.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, your Highness. It's disrespectful to call a member of the Royal family by their name in their presence," she said, her voice lower that it was, almost as if she was embarrassed to be put into such a situation. "Unless we are well acquainted with them. If not, it is highly disrespectful."

"Well," I mused, a glint of mischievousness in my eyes, "isn't that disrespectful? If you don't call Royal members of the family by their name in their presence then it's only right that you don't do so when you're not in their presence."

I sensed the immediate panic that shrouded her aura in an instant. She opened her mouth as if she was ready to give me a reply but then she closed it again, biting on her lower lip as worry shone clear as day in her eyes.

"Don't worry," I chuckled and her eyes widened when she saw that I was amused at her troubled state. "I'm not going to throw you into the cells, or dungeon, or whatever is used here - I'm very hazy with all the details about Deidrif, as you can see."