One of my kind | 01
Eddie had waited for the perfunctory Your Highness yet it never came and for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or offended. Although in all honesty her accent should have been the first clue, American. Yet he found he quite liked it, the soft tilt of her words yet the confidence in her tone. As if she didn’t quite care or fear who she was speaking to but instead acted as if she were speaking to another student. Which he supposed he was, at the very least to her. “I suppose I am. I promise to be better.” He smiled once more as he leaned closer to her, reading off the page as the professor spoke. Taking the pen in his hand, he chuckled softly, “It should. If only I didn’t have such a good memory,” he teased her back. Even if it were partially true, thanks to all the lessons he had to learn as the next heir. You couldn’t very well take notes as the Prime Minster spoke.
Having grown up in the situations like these, it was quite easy for Eddie to tune out the murmurs and the stares. Hardly paying them any mind, perhaps though, he realized he should have sat in the corner by himself. Instead of forcing this girl to now be the center of attention, although he quickly noticed she dealt with it beautifully. Well it helped that she was indeed beautiful, from the curve of her nose to the fullness of her lips. Yes, Eddie had spent more time sneaking glances at the American next to him than the actual professor. Having only decided to take this class because of his love for it, not necessarily to better his political career. As the professor concluded class, everyone began to trickle out, giggling and still murmuring over his presence.
“Thank you for today. I promise it won’t happen again, but maybe I can repay your kindness? How about an ice cream?” He tilted his head, his charming smile in place once more. Unsure of whether to trust her or not, he supposed he could always test her loyalty they way he often did. What he was sure of was that he wasn’t quite ready to let her runaway just yet. Or maybe he was just enjoying the freedom that was finally his, knowing the King was more than halfway back towards London and his bodyguards at a safe distance away from him. “What do you say? Help a poor man out.” He joked, his smile growing.
Her mother was an ocean away, but that hadn’t kept her voice from ringing in the brunette’s ears, reprimanding her for the manners she hadn’t displayed. She may have been a Hearst, but that hadn’t excused her behavior; if anything, Seneca should have made more of an effort to show that she understood his title and respected it. She was worried about how it had come across, if he had minded her not having used the term or if the students behind them had already started tweeting her misstep—the first, it was important to note, that she had ever made. Of the Hearst siblings, she was usually the one who held it together at events, the one her parents were proud to showcase because of her impeccable behavior, making her feel that much more self-conscious of not living up to that reputation. She could see the headlines now that would be published across tabloid new sources, taking the two sentences she’d said out of context and blowing them further out of proportion.
She spent the duration of the session mulling over the false media frenzy, anxiously sipping her tea as she hoped to keep her nerves at bay. Her expression remained controlled, the pen flowing across the page with ease; if there was one thing she’d picked up over the years, it was how to feign calmness even in the midst of a media calamity—though she wouldn’t dare call it that. She was building it up within her head, the realization making her release a sigh of relief as the class concluded and she began to gather her things, paying no heed to the male beside her until he spoke directly to her.
“I kind of make it a rule to never say no to ice cream,” she mused, a genuine smile resting across her lips. “Though I wouldn’t consider you poor, your highness.” This time, the phrase felt too informal, teasing, a light pink hue shading her cheeks. “I feel like I keep putting my foot in my mouth with that. I..ice cream sounds nice,” she agreed, slinging her bag across her shoulder. “If you’ve got the time.”
