Extra Short Story: The Prince Dreams of a Kiss, Cont’d
EVEN after I recovered from Elizabeth’s counterattack enough to stand, I was horribly distracted. It took all my strength to hobble to my bedroom, whereupon I collapsed into a chair and stared at the ceiling for a long while.
I had finally kissed Elizabeth. She had even kissed me back.
No, that didn’t count. That wasn’t what I had in mind at all. We exchanged kisses on the cheek; that’s all.
I took a deep breath. I had to calm down and analyze the damage done. They say telling someone to relax is counterproductive, but they never met someone as hell-bent on relaxing as I was. I had no one to distract me, after all.
Firstly, I was unable to kiss Elizabeth on the lips. That was a critical failing.
Secondly, Elizabeth was even cuter than usual when she kissed me.
The latter was infinitely more important. I grew weak at the very thought of her. She had officially surpassed the limits of what my mortal mind could comprehend. Any attempt to puzzle my way around the predicament resulted in my brain jellifying, no matter how hard I tried. I would try to think of ways to kiss her properly, realize that all the stage actors I’d seen had tilted their heads to avoid each other’s noses, reason that I could do the same with Elizabeth, and then I would white out on the spot.
I’m ages away from kissing her for real, aren’t I?
As I stared at the ceiling in growing despair, a sloppy knock came at the door. It wasn’t Harold—it was a knock with only the most basic courtesy, there to announce one’s presence rather than ask for permission.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
Sure enough, the door opened without my consent to reveal my mother. I reflexively fixed my posture and stood up.
“Is anything the matter?” I asked her.
“I just ran into Lady Elizabeth,” Mother said with a faint frown. “I was surprised that you weren’t there, so I figured I should discover why you would treat the dear girl so poorly.”
“Well…”
I fumbled to find an excuse, but the cold light in her eyes forbade anything but the truth. Worse yet, she realized the reason before I could say a thing.
“You have something red on your cheek,” she said coldly.
“D-Do I?”
I raised my kerchief to my face but stopped.
Should I really wipe it away? I can’t just not wash my face ever again. It’s bound to come off at some point.
Even so, I wanted the last vestige of Elizabeth’s presence at the palace to remain for as long as possible. That was only natural.
“I lied,” Mother said matter-of-factly. “What were you thinking just now?”
I didn’t reply.
“No matter,” she continued with a nod. “I’ll consider it enough that you two are getting along.”
She knows exactly what happened, doesn’t she?
She narrowed her eyes. “I must remind you, however, that you must remain composed at all times. Not seeing your own fiancée off properly is a serious offense.”
“O-Of course.”
It was impossible to play dumb now. All I could do was shut my insolent mouth and agree.
Mother crossed her arms imperiously as she looked around my bedroom. “Did you do the image training you always do? All one hundred times?”
“N-No, I typically do ten thousand, since a hundred is never enough. How did you know I do that?”
She didn’t reply. Of course she didn’t. Nonetheless, I suppressed my mounting terror to slowly shake my head no. I’d considered kissing an imaginary partner, but there was a critical issue with that.
“Image training with my confession was one thing,” I explained, “but I couldn’t possibly do the same with kissing. That would be akin to betraying Elizabeth.”
It was the greatest form of cheating I could conceive. Even imagining kissing Elizabeth felt heretical.
Mother wrinkled her nose at me in repulsion. Unfortunately, she was objectively right. I was strange to feel that way.
“Why don’t you practice with Elizabeth herself?” she finally suggested. “It’s better than using your imagination, anyway.”
“W-With her?!” I stammered in terror as my brain became pudding. The last thing I remembered before fainting was Mother watching me with disapproval, arms still crossed as I fell.
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💕 💕 💕
AT the start of the next school week, I was still as bereft of ideas as ever. When I saw Elizabeth, however, she requested we meet in private, whereupon she said the last thing I was expecting.
“At this rate, I fear we may not be able to kiss properly at our wedding. Would you, um, care to practice with me?”
With that, I once again fainted on the spot.