I own nothing. I did a lot of MAJOR editing in the storyline, but it still belongs to the owner of the original story.
Clarisse placed her glasses on the table while Rupert poured himself on the paperwork that was piled in front of him. He would always dim the lights, especially when dusk comes. He always did that since he and Clarisse were little kids.
She curled up at one corner of the library and pulled a book out of the shelf. For the hundredth time, she pulled the bookmark out and slowly slid it in one of the pages of the book. Smiling to herself, she thought about the times when they would just play or have an army of men rescue them from any sort of trouble.
Time passes by so fast, than in a matter of weeks, they will get married. But their relationship was purely platonic. Both of them know that somehow they'll end up getting married. Clarisse had no problem with what they're parents agreed on; she wanted to make a difference. And the easiest way is to marry Rupert and lead her country to the twentieth century. It was better to live that way than the having the vision of being an ordinary housewife.
"Clarisse," Rupert began, "are you ready for the wedding?"
"Yes, Rupert, you need not worry about anything." she smiled tenderly.
"Alright, I was just making sure. You never know, you might run away with some man on the day of our wedding." he laughed.
"Very funny," she said as she stared at the mirror that stayed there for ages. She was wearing her maroon colored pajama. Day passed since she moved in the palace and made a habit of going to the library with her pajamas on. And a habit that won't last long; and it was rather an 'un-queenly' like manner.
"If you don't mind, I think I'd like some fresh air." she uttered.
But before he can answer, Clarisse was out of sight. Pushing through the door, she stretched her arms sideward and found a bench near the fountain. She was about to sit she realized that a man was sitting already.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." she said.
"You should've looked before saying that. I think I'm big enough to be seen, eh?" he laughed.
"I'm sorry if I didn't see you, I guess it's because of the black shirt you're wearing." she shot back. She started to feel annoyed of this man.
"Fancy being rude, Miss?"
"Mind you, Sir, I am to be wed. And you shouldn't be like that to a woman like me." she said, trying to control to her temper.
"Oh really, what kind of man would fall for you?" he sniggered.
"A great man," That was all she can say.
"Anyways, I have to go, I'm needed some place else."
Before she was about to answer back, he already left her alone. Minutes, day, twilights, or so it would seem, she decided to call it a night and return to her suite.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
Rupert Gerard Renaldi liked his new office. He continued to look out the window while holding pieces of paper that seemed like a résumé. He was edgy about his schedule he demanded. Never did he expect it would be like this. He let the curtain fall back into place and moved smoothly toward the man that was waiting for minutes.
"It seems that you have a lot of experience, Mr. Romero."
"Thank you, Sir." He answered.
The occupation Mr. Romero applied for demanded confident, athletic grace, discipline, and intelligence. He was thirty, but had eleven years of professional experience. He was born in the slums of Puerto Rico, and life there wasn't easy. He was a balding man and looked very serious.
"So, I'll just introduce the person you shall be guarding."
Mr. Romero turned to see a young woman. She was walking down the room with long, fluid strides. She was wearing an Irish cream-colored sweater, and a knee length skirt. She somehow looked like she was in her late twenties.
"Good morning, ma'am," he nodded.
"Good morning," she said with utter disbelief.
Moving towards the door, Rupert pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "If you two won't mind, I have a meeting with the parliament."
Making sure that Rupert was gone; Clarisse went to the man and heaved a great sigh before saying something.
"You, you didn't tell me you were going to be my bodyguard!" she said.
"I'm sorry ma'am, I was too busy trying to stop you from the squabble you were about to start yesterday."
She had a strong feeling to slap him in his face and make him take back what he said. Slipping her glasses inside her pocket, she took a seat on Rupert's leather chair. "Just leave," she said simply.
He walked to one corner of the office and stood for more than ten seconds. He slid a card through the panel. "Open," he said and he went in and was nowhere to be seen.
I hope it's ok for a fourteen year old.