Isha

"Are you happy with Prince Calix?"

My throat clogs up in emotions at my father's voice, through the phone. He is genuinely worried about my happiness. Because again, Baba thinks I am in a relationship with a prince, at the end of the day.

The thought of a certain prince sends an unrecognizable rush of feelings through my chest. It has been five days that we haven't exchanged any conversation. Not that we are yet that close to casually chat, talk over the phone or send memes. But this time, the silence is uncomfortable and for some reason, bothering me. Perhaps because of guilt. It is no undeniable fact that I did overreact that night before hearing what Calix had to say. Probably it was just an apology but it was an apology, anyway. But my ego got in the way and I, well, I think rather than being angry, was hurt at his change of tone.

And this doesn't make sense, for all I know we have been throwing retorts and insults at one another since our second encounter. I being perturbed at him calling me 'immature', is almost as absurd as imagining pigs doing ballet in pink tutus.

The only good thing that happened that night was the pup we rescued was saved. We even contacted his owner, thanks to the information carved inside the collar of the dog. Apparently, they had lost him while he was chasing a rabbit into the forest and were overwhelmed with emotions after reuniting with their pup. His name, we learnt, was Goldie.

As for the cats, I went to the bungalow alone the next morning, but couldn't find either the mother or her kittens. Being strays, perhaps they had moved away from the bungalow and to a new, more habitable place, I had concluded.

"Yes I am, Baba." I close my eyes shut at how smoothly the lie left my lips.

"Ah, that is a relief then," Ma's voice appears from the side.

A bitter smile spreads on my lips. Here I thought they will be disappointed, even not agree to talk to me, due to keeping them in the dark for one month. However, when I decided to call them this morning, they seemed normal. In fact, they were rather concerned about my well-being since they know how so not used to I'm to this new attention I have been receiving from the public. Ma and Baba think that I didn't reveal anything because either it had been forbidden by the Royal Palace or I was taking time for myself to getting used to my new circumstances.

How would they react if they were to know that their own daughter, who has never once lied to her parents, played with their trust? They will break down and so will I.

I muster up a smile on my face, clutching the phone tightly against my ears when I hear Ma asking, "How have you been Isha? Should we go there—"

"No! I mean, not now. It might be dangerous since I am literally in the news headlines every day."

Another lie. Due to Calix's and Nirvana's strict orders, paparazzi, overly-obsessed supporters, fans of the prince, and trolls on social media, all have stopped perturbing me. Although I can still sense stares at me and whispers circulating around, no one has yet dared to strike up questions regarding our dating life, or have physically tried to assault me. In fact, Nirvana has assigned two guards who always stay low around me whenever I go out. They are residing in the apartment beside mine's, by the way.

So, I am safe.

"Who dares to disturb my daughter?" my father grumbles, making me laugh. He has always been like this. Supportive, adorable and protective, whereas Ma is the brains and logic, and filled with love and care, in their relationship.

"I am alright, Baba. Don't worry. You too Ma."

My eyes move to the clock. I need to write at least one-thousand words for my unfinished manuscript before getting ready for school.

"I'll have to leave now, bye, love you!" bidding them goodbyes, I sit back down in front of my laptop and stare at the blank page in front of me.

The reason I couldn't get enough sleep last night was because of a certain email I received. I exit from the writing software application and scroll through my emails before finding the one. I still cannot believe what I am reading, in front of my eyes.

Greetings, Miss Isha Sen.

My name is Brielle Gio, and I am the Head Book Publisher from White Swan Book Society. My team and I have thoroughly gone through the first five chapters of your novel, which you had submitted to our publishing house for review. I must say, you have raw talent flowing in your veins, Miss Sen. We have also read through your plot-summary and storyline, and we love it!

Your ideas are fresh. Your characters are unique yet relatable. And the best part? The antagonist is the most likeable but twisted character rather than the protagonists, and that is what makes your story even more out-of-the-box.

We wish to publish your novel after its completion, next year. With a bit of editing, your debut novel will become popular in no time.

Our contact details and working hours have been listed below. We would really appreciate if you could sign a contract with us, granting us permission to publish your novel and your future works, because young talents like you are what we need to bring out to this writing industry. In fact, once we enter in a contract with you, our company will provide you with a literary mentor as well. Isn't that exciting?

We also hope to receive the finished and full manuscript of the novel by the end of February 2024, which is four months away from now. Of course I am sure that you are going through edits and have already finished your novel, being a talented writer.

Well, Miss Sen, we hope to receive a positive answer from you soon.

~Sincerely

Brielle Gio, Head Book Publisher

White Swan Book Society

I had to refresh my page for a while last night because this...this has always been close to impossible. Although White Swan Book Society has never been my first choice and probably the one at the end among top twenty book publishing companies of my preference, but it is still a publishing company and my ticket to become a traditionally published author. I was simply over the moon last night.

But today I can't help but think if I should turn down the tempting proposal.

I have the entire plot and storyline ready, including the plot twists, character outlines and the first five chapters of my novel. But, since the past month, when my life has suddenly been turned upside-down, and I have entered a dark royal simulation game it seems, I have simply become hopeless.

Every morning, which is usually my writing time, I have been sitting down in front of my laptop with a hot milk chai and biscuits accompanying me. But all I ever get out of me is a defeated sigh. No words have been coming out and every day, it is the same exhausting repetitive cycle.

Just me and my companion (a blank page), staring at one another.

I glance at the time on my laptop. It's almost time for me to get ready for school. Another breathy sigh leaves my mouth and I proceed to shut down my laptop when the vibration of my phone catches my attention.

Prince High Horse: Are you free today?

Of course not. I have students to teach. So I send a short and quick no, before sliding off out of my DMs. I can check his messages (if he sends more) and ponder over ways of reconciliation later. Besides, Calix doesn't have to know that I have practically nothing to do after my shift ends.

Work calls for me now.

 My right hand grabs one of the chalks and I turn to the rectangular green-board in front of me. I write down the words Creative Writing. Loud groans and silent murmurs of protests spread through the sixteen-year-olds. Most of them despise using their imaginative brain in the class.

I turn around to face my students. Some looking at me with intrigue, excited to see what I have to offer and majority, with already worn out expressions.

"Now, now kids," I clap my hands, "If you all promise to pay attention today, I will make sure to send invitations to all of you for an event I am hosting."

Their faces don't light up at the proposal because they are aware of the topic of the event. However, I present another enticing deal. "And everyone is allowed to bring a plus one as their date, for there is going to be an after-party, later."

Fast and excited giggles and whispers begin to take place amongst the students. The class suddenly fills up to the brim with extreme enthusiasm.

They take no long in straightening their positions and turning their full attention on me. I stifle a chuckle when I find the students, who were close to dozing off at the back of the room, rubbing their eyes and controlling their yawns.

Well, I might as well make this class interesting and worth it for them.

"Who can tell me about the different types of creative writing styles? There is no need to state the number of types since everyone has different perspectives on this matter. Please just mention the names of the types you know or can assume."

Disappointment fills me when I find only seven hands shooting up high, all of whom are either interested in Literature or are geniuses of our school. I recognise one of the students specifically. The brunette haired Evelyn who never bunks my class or loses focus when I'm teaching. I don't show partiality among my students, but Evelyn is one of the most likeable girls in the class, especially because of her smart and wise personality.

"Hands down everyone." I instruct, my eyes roaming over the students and landing on the most notorious boy of the class, leaning back on his seat, with an overconfident, smug smile.

My smile broadens. "Stand up Noah."

The boy's smile falters at my unexpected call. He stands up eventually. I motion him to share his answers with us. But he stays in silence before saying, "I don't read...much books."

"Erotica is a genre too, Noah."

Bursts of giggles come up from the students, and Noah looks at me in shock as to how I have come to know of such secretive information. Well, let's just say his clandestine tactics to hide the fact that he reads erotica wasn't well planned out.

"Silence." At my sharp instruction, the sounds of giggles decrease. "There is no need to laugh. As I said, erotica is a genre too. Thus Noah, don't be embarrassed or try to keep this hidden. Everyone's preferences differ, and we must never judge anyone by their taste. If you read and understand Shakespeare, that doesn't make you superior to the ones who like to read erotica. Because at the end of the day, Literature is a vast spectrum and everything is a part of this big world."

Silence prevails as my students gape at me with awe. My cheeks flush, but I do not lose my composure while dramatically curtsying when they begin clapping and some even whistle.

Watching YouTube videos on basic etiquettes and royal movies, have taught me a lot these past few days. For Calix—I mean, for the deal presented by His Majesty, I had begun learning the etiquettes but it actually came off as an advantageous hobby.

After the applauds dissipate, my eyes wander over to rest of the students once again, since Noah seemed to genuinely be at a loss for answer.

I notice a tensed looking boy, at the back of the class. His gaze quivers more and figure shrinks back timorously, when he finds me staring at him.

An encouraging smile appears on my lips, "You are Xander Jae, aren't you?"

He nods, standing up immediately, "Yes, Miss Sen."

"Well Xander, do you have any answer that you could perhaps share with the class?"

"W-Well..." he trails off in nervousness when he feels stares on him. It has been two months that Xander has joined Syncitia Public High School, and he is someone who has trouble in socializing, based on my observations. He seems to have stage fright as well.

"Xander, look at me." His eyes meet mine. I smile, reassuring him that it is alright.

"Imagine that it is only you and a mirror in this classroom. And you are speaking to yourself through your reflection. Forget everything and everyone and focus on you."

He nods, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath before beginning to answer with an underlying tone of hesitancy.

"From what I know, Miss Sen," Xander pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "The different types include novels, poetries, short stories, novellas, novelettes, essays, and as such."

"Thank you for sharing your answer with us, Xander." I smile at how the boy grins in relief and self-satisfaction. "Do you have any favourite author, whose writing genuinely reaches your heart?"

Xander thinks deeply for a while before answering, "When I was a kid, I enjoyed Enid Blyton's books. As for now, I am broadening my taste in genres and authors."

"I see." I hum. "That makes me come to the point that I have an assignment for you all which I need completed by the end of this month. Rachel, make sure that everyone submits their respective assignments." The class president nods diligently.

"What is the topic, Miss Sen?" A grin makes its way onto my lips seeing Xander willingly ask a question, and not staying silent like he always had in the past classes.

"The assignment is quite simple," I say clasping my hands together, "Partner up in pairs of two. Don't leave anyone out, though. If there happens to be an imbalance in number, the number two can increase to three as well. And then, I require each and every group to watch a movie that has been adapted from a novel and write a detailed and analytical review on it. There should also be a report on your personal opinions, regarding the matter of novels getting adapted into movies, its pros and cons, response from the audience and so on.

"Please remember it's a group project, everyone. I need equal participation from every member of each group. Submit the names of whom you are partnering up with at the end of the class, to Rachel."

"Yes Miss Sen." They chorus.

As several students already begin to discuss among themselves and choose their partners, I notice a lone soul. Xander. He sits still, with his gaze on his lap.

I wonder if I should help him with finding a partner, but a smile forms on my lips when I see Evelyn reaching out to the boy and making small talk with him. The small blush creeping onto Xander's cheeks doesn't get unnoticed by me, when he steals little glances at the brunette while she continues talking to him. I do smell something in the air.

I clap my hands, taking the gossiping students' attention and turn my full body around to walk up to the front of the classroom, "Let us focus on—"

Gasps erupt when my students' eyes concentrate on someone, and so does a breath leave my mouth soon after. All my senses and rationality stop working, and my spine tingles with unrecognizable sensations.

"Surprise." He grins, leaning against the door-frame, his arms resting casually in a crossed position against his broad chest. Today, he however is not dressed in his usual formal suit and pants but rather in more of an outgoing, casual attire with a jacket, shirt, jeans, and boots on. Even his hair isn't styled neatly today. Rather, he has allowed the strands to lay open and bring out his natural hairstyle, giving me an opportunity to gawk at his gorgeous golden curls. A memory crosses my mind from the night of Lola's birthday. His hair was left in its natural style that night as well.

I snap from my daydreaming gaze when I realize that I have been staring at the unannounced intruder like a creep. My students have already begun to murmur and whisper in excitement, probably hoping to see the romantic life of their teacher unfold in front of them.

My life is far from being romantic.

I stride up to the grinning prince, who is now waving at a few giggling girls and has already made his way to my desk. He and his princely charms have been acting up a lot today.

Prince fucking Calix.

When I am close enough to make my words audible only to him, while also making sure it appears as if we are having a normal conversation, I utter through gritted teeth, "What are you doing here, Your Royal Highness?"

For some reason, a flicker of hurt and disappointment crosses his eyes which he soon covers with his charming smile, "I came to pick you up. I have something important to say to you, and for that we need to be present at Nirvana. Or well, somewhere private at least."

"Well, I can't go now," I say for obvious reasons. He probably has something to discuss about our fake dating deal. "I get off work at around half-past four."

"Not a problem." Calix's smile does something to me that I better not investigate. "I will wait till then."

"You will what—" before I can screech in shock and surprise, my students begin to chant in synchronization.

"Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss."

Oh hell no.

"Everyone," my voice comes out meek that I have to clear my throat to make it louder over the even louder chant, "You all shouldn't bother—"

Surprised gasps leave everyone's mouth, including mine's when Calix abruptly but smoothly pulls me close to him. Squeals of girls make the situation seem embarrassing, yet, fluttering.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, although I can practically hear my heartbeat drumming in my ears. When he leans close, and I instinctively shut my eyes tight, the scent of lavender and vanilla, invades my nostrils.

I have already prepared myself to feel Calix's soft lips on mine, this time in sober state, but it never arrives.

In fact, Calix pulls back with a teasing grin after placing a peck on my cheek.

My eyes open wide as embarrassment rushes through me. Yet I cannot ignore the lingering touch I would have liked, on my lips.

It's all for the fake deal. Get your mind out of the gutter, Isha. I remind myself.

"Isha," Calix's minty breath hits me, proving how close he is standing right now. One step close, and my students will end up witnessing what they originally wanted to see. "They wanted a kiss, but didn't specify where. What was going on in your mind?"

Groaning at his teasing, I push Calix away towards the door. Some of my students protest, but one stern glare from me, makes them go silent.

One of the students does not forget to say loudly, "Miss Sen, you should invite His Royal Highness to your event as your date!"

"Wait, what event and what date?"

"Something trivial," I mumble, "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Alright, alright, I am leaving," Calix laughs wholeheartedly before facing me and saying, "I will wait for you till you get off work. Well, I might as well get some of my work done in the meantime."

"Good luck, Your Royal Highness," I snap, slamming the door in front of his face, and possibly trying to hide the redness on my skin. There is no way Prince High Horse is going to wait for me till half-past four, when it is only 12 O' Clock, right now.

I was wrong. Calix waited. For four whole hours and additional thirty minutes, give or take a few.

He has been in the vacant teachers' lobby all this time, which had probably been emptied just for the prince.

He did mention he would get his work done in the meantime, but could a prince possibly work, while being cramped up in a lobby, for four hours and thirty minutes? I bet not.

But then again, how much do I know Prince Calix even? How much difference there is between Prince Calix and just Calix, is what makes me curious all the time.

Even when I know that Calix taking me to Nirvana personally probably has to do something with our fake relationship, I cannot help but shake the feeling.

The dancing, fleeting feeling inside my chest at the thought that there is someone who waited for me, bubbles furiously.