Oh Frond. I can’t believe I did that. Artemis is here, though, so I have no time to mope.
“Polly!” comes a voice, as the door is thrown open. “Polly, I missed you.”
In the movies they say ‘I missed you too’, and kiss, and it’s all boring and romantic. But I say “Shoot. Your here.”
“You’ve been crying!” Artemis cries triumphantly. “I can tell.”
“Congrats. Now go away.”
“Woman are so much nicer in movies. Particularly Princess’.”
“Well, I’m not a Princess. And if you say ‘yet’ I will punch you.”
He sits beside me. “Violence is not the answer, Polly.”
“Ugh. Do you annoy me like that on purpose?”
“Yes. I think it’s romantic teasing.”
“Romantic! I am going to punch you, and you think it’s romantic?!”
I bury my face in my pillow. I don’t regret cheating on him now, he deserved it. Even though it was his brother. And the wrong brother.
“You know I can still see you.”
“Yep, but I can’t see you.”
“Did you know your naked?”
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, so it shouldn’t matter.”
“You’re very pretty naked.”
I huddle under the blankets. What a perv. He shouldn’t be looking, he should be hiding his eyes.
“Polly, why are you naked?”
“That’s how I sleep,” I lie.
“Oh. I can’t wait until we can share a bed.”
I glare at him. “We won’t share a bed. Ever.”
“Oh. What a boring honeymoon we’ll have.”
That caught my interest. “Honeymoon? Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You realise this is possibly the only nice thing I’ve said to since we’ve met, and you won’t take the opportunity to start a conversation.”
“Oh. Oops. OK, pretend I never said that. Ask again. Start over.”
I roll my eyes. He’s so immature.
“Fine. Where are we having our honeymoon?”
“That’s not what you said.”
“Ugh! For Frond’s sake, tell me!”
“You have anger management issues.”
“No. You’re just really annoying.”
“That was rude. You should apologise. And then go to councelling.”
I hide back under the blankets. If I refuse to speak to him he might give up.
Or fairies might be real.
“Why do you do that?”
“Polly, why do you do that?” he repeated. “You always hide when I’m speaking to you.”
“That’s cause you always say dumb things.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought I was being nice.”
“Nice! How is calling me Polly and forcing me to marry you nice?!”
“Oh. I thought-”
“I don’t care what you think. Go. Away.”
He’s silent, for once. Sure, he’s annoying, but I do feel sort of bad. Particularly when I pull my head out from under the blankets and see tears streaming down his cheeks. Brilliant. That’s the second guy that’s cried because of me. The second Prince.
“Oh! Don’t cry! I’m sorry!”
“I thought you liked me,” he whispered. “You kissed me. I remember.”
Oops. “Yeah. I just. . .”
He looked up at me through his long, dripping eyelashes. “You were pretending for the camera.”
“Yeah.” Why did I admit it? That was really dumb.
“Oh. I’m going to leave.”
“Don’t! Stay!” And that was even dumber.
“Why are you being nice? You don’t like me.”
And, true to his word, he gets up and leaves, still crying like a little kid.