this is the first chapter, if y'all want more of it lmk! I may or may not post more idk..
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Roses and flame
Chapter 1
`the spark
“Princess Cyra Whitlock., please come downstairs immediately!” I scoff at my mother’s futile attempt to get me to be on time. If they’re making me go to this, trust me we will be late. But when I heard my father’s footsteps echo against our marble walls I realized it wasn't an order I could disobey. He assaults my mahogany door with one sharp knock, tossing the door open. “Cyra, we need to go. Now.” he mutters under his breath. He's in his usual suit, wearing a small flag of America on his breast pocket. He looks picture-perfect. The king of America everyone loves. I'm glad I inherited his ability to lie. “ I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was time to go.” I say, glancing at myself in the mirror once more, not to be self-centered but I don't look bad… “ of course you didn't” he says pleasantly, but I hear the malice lacing his words. As I trail outside of my bedroom, down the regal marble hallway, into a matching stairwell. “ How long should the trip take?” I question as I begin to hear his footsteps trail me on the stairs. “ a long plane ride, 13 hours but… you'll sleep through, it's winter in Moscow. Did you tell the maids to pack warm?” '' he asks, I confirm as my mother takes his arm at the end of the stairway. They’re the perfect couple. High school sweethearts, she was the princess of Ireland. Now the queen of America. “ You look stunning Cyra, '' my mother gushed. I smile gently. Blushing. “As do you!” I say formally, but I mean it. my mothers light pink, short but modest dress makes her glow. “Have you seen eloise?” I ask, glancing around for my older sister, when I accidentally make eye contact with my father, but instead of his usual mean glare, I'm greeted with a fond glance. As he glances at my mother and I, it reminded me of the time he said She is a queen and I am a king… that I carry myself like a man should, strong, devoted for their country, ready to lead. He then said My sister however is a pure princess. And that even fits now, her floating down the stairs in a blue lace gown rushing to greet the family, and me in a black pantsuit. I look like wall street, she looks like a princess. My father also said that it should be me who inherits the throne of america. From him, it's the closest thing I: i love you that i'll ever get from him.
“Shall we?” my father, Augustus asks. My mother nodded curtly and I smiled, my sister rushing after us. I give her a cute smile and do a curtsy, she smiles and giggles as she walks smoothly behind my mother. We walk towards the doors that separate us from the whole world, the press, and my friends.. Normally I would rush at the thought of getting out of our estate. When I step in behind my parents, the doors open and my eyes are flooded with people, and cameras fighting for a glimpse of the future crown of america. Her. We smile and wave, answering a few questions before splitting off into different suvs. I practically fell into mine due to the abnormal height of the car. Andrew the driver wiggles his eyebrows at me through the mirror before following after my fathers SUV. Andrew is a year and a bit older than me, he's kinda like my only real friend. My parents despise the thought of me having a non-royal friend. But who else would teach me to drive a car?
During work, Andrew technically can't talk to me but… I can talk to him, and he's obligated to respond. “ Do you know when I'll be back?” I ask a simple royal question, it makes sense if anyone watched the camera feed from the car's mainstream camera. He waits until the red eye blinks away before speaking. “ 20 days.” he says, glancing at me. “ Well, 21 but that's because your father insisted on an early arrival.” we probably have 30 seconds before the camera flashes back to us. “ don't miss me too much” he says quietly as a dim blush crawls up my neck. The camera flashes back on. I'm glad, it lets the residing pinkness wash off my face. I should also mention that I've had the biggest crush on him since, well. Forever. When the camera's eye dies again, I look back up at him. “Do you think it'll be fun?” he asks and I laugh. “ gods no. My father is trying to monopolize everyone. Oh, and he wants to try and find a husband suitable for the throne that Eloise actually likes.” I say, listing off all of our current problems. Truth is, that isn't even half of it. Yes, America is in the best financial state ever. But, the monarchy is slightly worried because of the fact they had two daughters instead of sons. I've even heard that Germans, the people who started this whole monarchy mess 200 years ago, are sending propaganda into the southern districts. So that's what he's really trying to stop. But even I know that it is tightly held information.
“And you?” he questions again, jealousy hidden behind his words. He finishes right before the red eye flickers back to life. I wait for the light to die completely before answering. “ I'm not of age yet.” I answer simply. But he knows that's not quite it. Because if i were of age, even then i would decline every offer. Except his, if he asked that is. He doesn't say anything until the little red dot turns on and off three times. “So, in 20-days when you come back, no betrothals.” He says it lighter than what he means, or what I think he means, but I chuckle with him, “ no, no betrothals for at least a year.” I say, smiling widely. I'm 17 , so that gives me a decade max to get married, have a kid and become a world leader. Easy.
Our ride comes to an end too shortly. As he pulls up against the curb of the private airport, he turns backwards. Towards me. “ if you need anything.” he says, a piece of paper in between his fingers. “Just call,” he whispers as my fingers brush his as I reach for the paper. I look up at him, his brown hair slicked back due to guardsmen rules and regulations, it makes him look at least 20, not almost 18. Meeting his green eyes, “ i will, i promise.'' I say with a smile, as I realize just how close our faces are. And on a whim, I do something stupid. I lean in, expecting the worst, and kiss him gently on the cheek, my lips brushing the left side of his face when, the smell of his lavender conditioner, the kind I recommended to him fills my nose and I linger just a moment before leaning back, glancing at his face, which has, dare i say, much more than friendship plastered across his eyes with a fine blush creeping up behind his ears. All while smiling and slipping out of the car with grace.
Per usual royal orders, my father steps out first, then my mother then me. I was about 30 seconds late. I can't believe I did that. I kissed him. Well, on the cheek. While my father glares at me, my sister glances at me fondly. But I wouldn't care to notice. I KISSED HIM. as we approach our jet. As much as my father commits to being one of his citizens, meaning, no castle. I happily don't wear ball gowns everywhere, just formal clothing. And it's acceptable for me to be seen in black leggings outside instead of a full dress. Like other country's royal families. But still, my father is probably one of the most powerful men in the world, he needs at least one of his daughters to be the same, and he needs both of them alive, so we travel in a private jet. It's small though, the best quality, just well. Small. Or as my sister would say, she is average.
We walk past the tiny private airport, the small flat building radiates from the solar panels on top. The winter sun is doing very little to power the building, I think it's safe to sit. I haven't seen the sun in days! Just as a little vitamin- d- enters my body, we’re inside the plane. And it's just me, my family. With Twelve hours left on our plane ride, and a global crisis that needs fixing. But the only thing I can think about is him.
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