Royally Kidnapped by the Prince

43

KENNEDY

I knew how he felt.

Instead of the rigidity of his body and the raw emotions brewing in his eyes, I knew he wasn’t

comfortable with my decision to visit my family back in the States.

He twisted and turned in bed. He woke up earlier. I watched him run around the property. He came

sweaty catching his breath, but he still looked delicious. Usually, he cracked a joke or gave remarks.

Not this morning, though—just a wry smile and a quick kiss, then he took a shower.

I fought the urge to join him. I thought of giving him time to himself. But he made me worry as soon as I

heard thuds coming from the shower room.

“Thayer?”

It took a few seconds before he responded. “Yeah?”

“I thought I might join you.” I was only in my robe.

Then he peeked her head out. “I’m almost finished. Why didn’t you join me immediately?”

I didn’t buy it. He wasn’t like this—Thayer would never give me this reason. That was the Thayer I

knew, who would never deny me.

“I’ll just take a shower in my bathroom.” I was surprised to learn that his master bedroom had two

baths. “I can’t keep my appointment waiting.”

He didn’t even stop me. It started to bother me. Deep inside, he was struggling. His features felt like he

was carrying the world over his shoulder.

We barely talked over the phone. His schedule was full. I was also busy learning for myself.

When he came back, he was drunk. When I asked Ash and Lud, the only answer I got was a shrug. He

did the same thing, waking up early in the morning, went out to run, then came back to take his

shower.

Today, we had a photoshoot before the announcement, and it would happen here in the manor.

It hurt. He barely talked to me.

It hurt even more. I felt him building his wall so sturdy, distancing from me. This was supposed to be

our day. We should be ecstatic. In a few hours, the world was about to know our relationship—our love

for each other.

I was almost done with my makeup—the same makeup artist who did for the gala. This time, the

makeup he did was light, fresh, and natural. The hairdresser added an extension to my hair, mixed with

balayage and bronde. It was perfect. I still looked the same, but with a high-maintenance woman.

“Damn, woman. You’re stunning.”

“Thanks. You made me look stunning,” told them.

The room was filled with wardrobes on racks I could pick from, but of course, a stylist was hired to do

the job—a woman called Priscilla that I felt a chill crawl in my skin every time our gazes locked. She

had the highest cheekbones I’d ever seen in a double ruffle trench coat and platinum blonde hair. I

wondered how many surgeries she did for her face alone, and I felt terrible for her poor lips.

“So, here’s what I want you to wear first. This one.” She snapped her fingers to must be her dark-haired

assistant, who looked terrified. Poor girl.

Her assistance pushed the rack from the third on the right. Priscilla picked one hot pink dress then the

poor dark-haired girl brought pairs of shoes and sets of pearl jewelry.

“Then you will change to more formal. This one.” She pointed her long white nails to the long formal

dress. “Always perfect for any occasion.”

“How many times should I change? I thought the photoshoot is for engagement announcement only.”

“Oh, poor dear. Of course, it is. But you’re engaged to the Prince. You must look satisfactory enough to

match the elegance of the man beside you.”

My brow arched up. I ignored those words. I chose not to be a hypocrite and showed her who she was

talking to—the fiancee.

If I’d learned something from the two experts who taught me about etiquette was to be patients, ignore

the unpleasant comments, and maintain your facial expressions even if you wanted to wring someone’s

neck or your shoes were killing you.

“I see. What else should I wear?”

“Cocktail dress. Not too revealing. Of course. When you go out with the Prince, there is a certain dress

code you have to follow.” I learned that already— hand gestures, dress codes, fashion rules, and

strictly no PDA.

“I’ll put on the cocktail dress.”

“No, dear. You put on the evening dress first.”

“Why? My hair and makeup are for the cocktail.”

“Don’t argue with me, dear. I know what I’m doing. My reputation precedes me. I hope you are aware of

why high-profile people handpicked me to dress them."

I tried hard to hold unto my kindness and good behavior and swallowed down the displeasure. I stood

up and went into the dressing room. Arina followed me inside. The dress came next brought by the

poor dark-haired girl.

“Don’t say another word,” I told Arina. I knew she was about to say something.

“But, madam—”

“I got this, okay?”

She sighed. Her face contorted in distaste.

I put on the long shoulder off black dress. It was not too revealing, but I didn’t like it all. It fit for my

body, but there was nothing worth looking at it. I walked out and showed it to Priscilla. “What do you

think?”

“Perfect.” She clasped her hands in delight. Eyes lit up with pride. I noticed something else I couldn’t

point my finger on.

“Try the hot pink on. The photoshoot was about to start in thirty.” She was enjoying this. I started to

think this woman dislike me or even despised me.

I put on the hot pink gown and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like going to a costume party, not

doing a photoshoot with the Prince.

Damn this woman. I can’t do this.

“Priscilla, I can’t wear this one.”

Her brows arched up to her hairline. “Why not? That’s perfect for your body. Can I give you a little

advice, dear? You should lose a few pounds before your wedding. People always look for something to

criticize. Trust me.”

My chest constricted. I looked at myself—I wasn’t skinny nor fat. I always loved my body. I wasn’t the

type of person who watched her calories because I was one of those lucky people who burned calories

fast at a quicker rate. I had a flat tummy, and it was one of my assets aside from my legs and ass. If I

had enough height, I could have auditioned for a beauty contest or a runway model.

“I love myself. I wouldn’t change a thing. And I can’t wear these dresses you chose for me. I’m sorry. I’d

been working in a fashion magazine. My boss has great taste in fashion, trust me. And I may not be an

expert like you, but I can see if which is perfect for my skin, fit for my figure, and which dress to wear

for themes in photoshoots. I’d seen plenty, but I’m not wearing this for my photoshoot with my fiance.”

“Very well then. We’ll take a five minutes break.” She then walked out. Her assistant gave me an

apologetic smile. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I sighed once the bitch expert was gone.

I needed to see Thayer. I walked out of the room. Arina, the makeup artist, and the hairdresser noticed

what I wore.

“Not a word.” I rolled my eyes.

They all grinned sheepishly.

“I’ll be right back.” I knew where to find Thayer.

A voice of a woman caught my attention—it was Priscilla.

“Oh, God. Poor Prince. She must have bewitched him. What did he see in that cheap woman? And she

questioned my expertise? How could I choose a dress for her if there’s nothing that would look good on

her? She would still look like a commoner even if she’s wearing Elie Saab’s gown. I’ll call you back,

Kady. You’re still perfect for Prince Thayer. Trust me.”

Kady?

I quickly walked away. Hurt and frustration rose in the back of my throat. My heart ached. Tears blurred

my sight as I got back to the dressing room.

“Arina, can you please call Thayer. I need to talk to him right now.”

“What’s wrong?” the makeup artist asked.

“Nothing. Can you retouch my makeup later?” I asked without looking at him.

“Of course. You don’t need to ask.”

I took a few deep breaths until the door swung opened. “Kennedy?”

I shut my eyes closed, another deep breath before I opened my eyes and turned around.

“Wow!” That was the first word that came out of his mouth as he studied me from head to toe.

“I know,” I replied flatly. “Look, I wish nothing more than to get this photoshoot done and announced to

the whole universe that we are together, but look at me, Thayer.” I gestured to my dress. “This isn’t

me!” I said frustratingly. “I may be a little dramatic or whatever. Okay, I’m over-dramatic and ungrateful,

but I can let anyone see me in this horrible dress. I look like going to a costume party or Lady Gaga’s

backup dancer. I don’t want to change anything in myself. I want something people see in me as

nothing but the truth and a real woman before you met me. I can’t be someone else that I am not.”

“Darling, then change to something you’re comfortable at. I would never ask you to change yourself. I

love just the way you are. And you’re not being over-dramatic because that dress is horrible and I don’t

like the color. It looks good on your skin but not the right pick for our photoshoot.” He stepped close to

me. “Be yourself. Be the woman I first met, the woman I’ve learned to love, and be the woman I’m

engaged to. I don’t want you to change. I love just the way you are.”

“Thank you.” I kissed him. I sighed before I spoke. “We need to talk about the elephant in the room.”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’d been meaning to talk to you about this, but I felt that you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Babe, I know when something’s bothering you. You barely slept at night. If we’re gonna do this

photoshoot and let the world know our relationship, then we should start talking about it, or no

photoshoot nor announcement is gonna happen.”

“Fine.”

“Good. First, I’m not gonna leave you.”

He nodded.

“Secondly, it’s only for just a few days. Thirdly, I’m gonna come back, or you can always plan out and

kidnap me again. You always know where to find me.”

He grinned. “Oh, there would definitely be a third time if you won’t bring your pretty ass back to

me.”