The MC will steadily be spending one on one time with all the princes from here on out.

Totally random side note (sharing cause I think it's interesting): I wanted to name the chapters that introduce each prince further after the meaning of their names, but that ended quickly when the only meaning for Chezem I found was basically "holy cheese land". I found no meaning for Nagit, Jun's name had a few different meanings depending on which Japanese character is used for it (the most common one being "genuine"), Melchiorre means "King City", Alvah means different things depending on the language (the most common one being "sublime"), and Lambert means "bright land".


After dinner, I went right to bed. Well, not right to bed, because Ivan sure as hell was going to speak his mind about the great shame I put upon him, but I got to bed after that. I never wanted to fall asleep and forget so badly in my life; I was out the minute I hit the Egyptian cotton sheets and memory foam pillow.

WHOOSH!

My eyes shoot open. "Ah! What the…"

I instinctively tuck up my now naked legs. My bed sheets have been pulled off. I rub my sleepy eyes as my quickly cooling body alerts me that I'm not going to be falling back asleep. Morning already? What kind of wakeup call is this? Why didn't my alarm go off?

"Did I not instruct you to wake up early? It's 7 am, you should already be up!"

7 am?! Oh it's a sad, sad day when your alarm clock gets to sleep longer than you do. I peer over. Ivan has my covers piled by his feet. How he got them all off cleanly in one swift motion is beyond me. Good thing I decided to wear pajamas to bed.

Thoughts jumble around as I try to think about how to respond, but being that I'm still between sleep and awake, my mouth takes over for my mind.

"Go away." I tuck my legs up further and hug the pillow. After all the things Ivan scolded me on last night (I drank too soon, I ate too fast, I ate too much, I waited too long, I used the wrong hand, I was rude to the princes, I disrespected the cooks by ruining their food, I talked with food in my mouth, I even coughed wrong and blah blah blah blah blah!), I was determined to wake up in better spirits and be the very definition of success, but all I want right now is sleep.

WHOOSH!

I kind of face plant into the mattress. Ivan just grabbed my pillow as well. Oh, this is a great start. My eyes slowly close as I readjust my head and get comfortable. "Just five more minutes…" I mutter, knowing that five will turn into ten and so on and so forth if he gives me an inch.

Next thing I know, I'm hovering above my mattress. Am I still dreaming? I do love flying dreams…no, wait, he's carrying me?! This man is not only unwilling to give me an inch, he's not even giving me a nanometer.

He carries me a short distance and sets me down. Now I'm sitting in my vanity chair. I lean my elbows on the vanity and prop my head up. I look in the mirror and yawn, my eyes trying to fully open and come to life. I see Ivan's reflection in the mirror. He's behind me, standing in his permanent state of at attention, bathed in sunlight, and he does not look happy.

"You're mean." I mutter, rubbing my face. This does not seems real, maybe I truly am dreaming and he's not really there.

"This has nothing to do with emotion Miss. You're supposed to get up early; I won't have you disrespecting everyone's schedule because you'd rather sleep in."

He speaks. "Ah, this isn't a dream. You're actually here, and you really just stripped me off my bed."

"Beds are not made to wallow in. Make haste, you have a full day ahead of you."

I look at his reflection. "For gosh sakes Ivan, give me a second."

I look down at my black satin nightie. The pajama section of my closet was nothing but lingerie, which I suppose was the King's way of subtly hinting at his sexual proclivities and the possibility of me partaking in them (still can't believe I've got an outstanding invite into a harem). I wonder if he understands the majority of lingerie is for aesthetic purposes only, not comfort. What I have on was one of the few choices I could actually sleep in, but it still looks like I'm off to a lingerie party to seduce everything within a 10 foot radius. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was the reason Ivan picked me up, but our short time together has taught me he's all business. I should accuse him of being a dirty old man and see what happens. I giggle at the thought.

"I fail to see the humor in not being punctual, Miss."

I continue to look in the mirror. Having it in front of me keeps me aware of my facial expressions, so I manage not to scowl at Ivan. His reflection is getting closer.

"It appears you are now fully awake, get up and get ready. Breakfast will be soon, and after that, we shall begin your charm lessons."

Charm lessons? He stands beside me and puts a hand on my arm. I can tell he's about to guide me up, so I slid off the chair in the opposite direction and stand up. "I can do it myself, thank you."

I look him straight in the monocle. "Or do you have to dress me in the morning as well?"

Ivan shakes his head. "It would not have been necessary for me to get you up if you could get yourself up. I know it's your first morning here, but that's no excuse. I am sure it is not permissible in your country to be late to your first day of work over sleep, and you have a job to fulfill here. I hope you can get yourself up tomorrow."

Ugh, no one said to get up and be ready by 7! Or did they? There's been so much…

"Get dressed Miss. If you're quick, perhaps I'll allow you to pick your lesson for the day. Now then, to review meal etiquette…"

Ivan's voice fades to the background as I realize I haven't brushed my teeth yet. I instinctively cover my mouth then head towards the bathroom. Great, the number of men who have had the pleasure to experience my morning breath just went up, and I didn't even get to romp with this one…not that I would. Ha, I bet he's all prim and proper even in bed, responds all serious like to commands with "As you wish." I giggle again.

"Miss, just what about 'use your right hand instead of your left hand' is humorous to you?"

"Nothing, Ivan." He probably says that in bed too. I stifle back another giggle and try to pay attention.


After expediting my morning hygiene routine and getting dressed, Ivan leads me to the dining hall. To my surprise, I am the only one present. Ivan explains that breakfast is unlike dinner, in that there is no exact start time and anyone can show up any time before eight. This is apparently because the princes all have such different schedules. Why he rushed me just so I could eat alone is beyond me, as is why he's just now telling me this, but at least I get to practice etiquette without quips from the princes. I finish up and Ivan nods.

"That went well, I hope you apply what you've learned to dinner. Would you like to hear the options for your charm lessons?"

"Must we call them that? You make it sound as if I'm some type of ogre who's never been in polite society."

For a moment, Ivan appears to smirk. "That is just their title, it's what they've been called for ages. No one is insulting you. Now then, you've spent time working on etiquette and how to dress, I see no reason to continue that for today. That leaves posture, penmanship, horseback riding, social dance, language, and history. Depending on how the month proceeds, we may add philanthropy and wine tasting to that."

Whoa. "You want me to master all of that?"

He gives a polite chuckle. "Not even every one of the princes has mastered all of that. I just want to give you a good foundation, and hopefully you'll pass as a lady during your time with us."

'Hopefully you'll pass as a lady during your time with us'. Apparently now all I'm doing is a subpar impression of one anyone can see through. Stupid Ivan. I feel like squawking his observations back at him in the most irritating voice I can muster, but all that would prove is that I'm capable of being a parrot, not a lady. Oh, but you're not really a lady, are you? You're 100% pure, grade A woman, and woman does not a lady make.

I think about my options. "Okay, I want to dance then." I love to dance. I know I'm not about to learn the kind of dancing I'm good at, but any kind of dance is worth perfecting.

Ivan nods. "You'll need a partner then, I'll see if one of the princes is available." He takes out his phone and speaks into it after punching a few numbers. I wonder who he's talking to. I imagine there's a command center somewhere in this palace where a bunch of big, burly, Terminator looking men are watching everything that happens on huge plasma screens and report to Ivan. Or maybe I just hope that.

I'm a little surprised Ivan is not going to be my partner. Maybe he can't dance. Maybe it's improper. Maybe he'll finally attend to other butler duties…

"Looks like Master Jun is available," says Ivan, hanging up his phone. "You're in luck; you'll have a fine dancing partner. All the princes can dance well, but it seems to come naturally to Master Jun."

Prince Jun? The one who constantly looks fierce, like a tiger about to pounce on its prey?

Ivan motions towards the door. "Come along, to the dance hall we go. You'll be with Master Jun alone, I must attend to other business."

Of course there's a dance hall. I really need to get a tour.


Ivan weaves me this way and that, to and fro, over the desert and through the woods, until we finally reach the dance hall. Ivan escorts me in then kind of mysteriously disappears.

Like everything else in this palace, it's huge. It bears a striking resemblance to Shanghai's Paramount Ballroom, only the crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling is more lavish and gold trim accents the walls. In the middle of the dance floor stands Prince Jun, who has the stance of a man who thinks all eyes are perpetually on him. I can't say I blame him. All the princes are hot, but there's something about Prince Jun that makes him seem exotic, and I bet he knows it too.

He surveys me as I walk towards him. "Ah, hello wine spritzer!"

Har de har har. "It's nice to see you too, Prince Jun."

He gives a quick nod. "It would appear I'm now partially responsible for turning you from a cow's hide into a designer purse." He looks me up and down again. "You know, one could beautifully gift wrap trash and those being presented with it would think they're receiving something wonderful, but not me. I see past the wrapping. In this case, I'm sure the package reflects the prize."

Well if that don't take the cake.

He smirks and holds out his arms like he's welcoming a hug. "At the very least, this is a good outfit for dancing."

I'm a little surprised Ivan was okay with my choice, especially since I don't have a cover on. It's a dress, but it's shorter than the one I had on at dinner and comes just above my knees. It's strapless, sweetheart cut, and flows out at the waist. These are all features I enjoy, but I picked it because it's buttercup yellow. I love yellow, and it's so hard to find clothes that are the perfect shade of yellow. Maybe he felt bad about last night, or maybe yellow makes him hot.

I smile. "I didn't know I was going to be dancing, but I look forward-"

He suddenly grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him. I immediately crash into his front.

"Oof!" I gasp, trying to regain my composure while he drops my wrist and puts an arm around my waist.

"We're not here to talk, we're here to dance." He snaps his fingers, and classical music begins to play. How did he do that? "We'll start with the waltz, then work our way up to more complicated moves and the country's traditional dance. I'll try not to make it complex; I just hope you can keep up."

He holds me closer, and puts my left hand on his shoulder while he picks up my right hand and holds it up. The arm he has around my waist slowly slinks up my back and rests on my shoulder blade. Now that he's closer, I catch his scent. He smells spicy, like myrrh. It suits him; really adds to his appeal.

"Prize indeed." He mutters.

"What?"

His smirk returns. "Ready? 1, 2, 3, 4!"

With that, he guides me around the dance floor. I've never waltzed before, and I have no idea how hard it's going to be. However, he's clearly used to being in the lead, and having a strong leader makes all the difference. I allow myself to go limp, and glide along with the motions. A few box steps, he holds me and releases me, and never takes his eyes off me. It continues like this until the song's end. No stumbles, no hesitation, I think we just pulled off a perfect first time waltz!

"Hmm, not bad. Let's see how you do with a foxtrot." He snaps his fingers; a jaunty 1940s era song comes on.

Once again, he guides me naturally across the floor, as if I am a feather and he is the wind. The lack of verbal direction makes this dance more difficult than the last, but if the wind blows hard enough, a feather obediently takes direction without the slightest pause. Slow steps, quick steps, and even a few slight dips just to mix it up a bit. His eyes look deep into mine the whole time. I can't get a read; either he's impressed or annoyed that he can't trip me up. I try to hide my excitement; this is going so well!

The song ends. He drops my hand but keeps his other hand on my shoulder blade.

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

I shake my head. "No, you're just a good dancer." I really like dancing with him. I should pay better attention to the steps; not everyone is going to be able to dance the way he does.

He gives me a skeptical glance. "I know, I dance the way a king should, for a king leads in all situations." Ha, how very subtle. He peers down at my legs then looks back in my eyes, an angry look on his face. "Why must you turn my dance floor into a floor of lies?"

What? "Who's lying? You just said yourself you know how great you are."

"I mean about never having done this before." His free hand suddenly gives my right thigh a quick little smack. "These are legs of experience; don't insult my floor by pretending like it can't tell the difference."

Oh geez. "Slow your roll homie. I've never ballroom danced before, but that doesn't mean I don't do other types of dancing."

His harsh eyes remain locked on mine, and he starts to squeeze the skin above my shoulder blade. "I am not familiar with this 'homie' term, but I'll thank you not to call me that. I am Prince Jun and you will address me as such, unless my title changes."

I jerk away from his touch. "And I'll thank you not to pinch me or smack me, Prince Jun."So much for things going well.

He sticks his nose in the air while keeping his eyes locked with mine. "Time to kick it up a notch. Let's see how well you handle a tango." He extends out a hand.

I stomp my foot forward before slapping my hand into his. "Bring it on."

He snaps his fingers. Up starts a fast paced, wildly passionate sounding Latin beat. He pulls me into him and instantly begins the steps. I don't think, I just do. This man is not going to win.

Prince Jun has put himself in quite the position; he's such a strong leader that I can't help but be a good partner, so I can't really stumble unless he does, and he wants me to mess up badly. However, doing this means he'd have to mess up too, and I know he won't do it.

Then he finds the loophole. He whips his head from side to side, in time with the music. His earrings smack me in the face.

"Watch it!" I shout, though their soft touch flicking against my face leaves me intrigued. They are unlike any of the other jewelry pieces I've seen the other princes wear, and I'm curious.

"Why do all of you wear so much jewelry, and what's the story behind your earrings?"

He keeps us moving. I half expect him to say 'less conversation and more action', instead he actually answers. "Jewelry has been genderized by Western culture. It's a shame really. Jewelry is neither male nor female; it is simply a form of self-expression."

He twirls me under his arm then brings me back to him. "In our case, it is also a sign of status. Our ears were pierced as babies, and we all donned with gold studs as our first pair. This happens to no one else in the country, just us."

He moves me backwards at a rapid pace, the music pounds on. "It symbolizes that greatness starts at birth, as well the as heft of our responsibility."

His hand pushes against mine and he lets go. Our free hands wave out, and the others slide quickly down each other's arm until our hands meet and our fingers grasp together. "For me, it is not enough to be great."

He pulls me back towards him. I curl myself into his arm until it's wrapped around me and my chest is pushed against his. He puts his free hand under my chin and lifts my head up to meet his gaze. "I want to be the best."

His hand moves from my chin to my shoulder, and he pushes me away. I unroll from his arm, hold my free arm out gracefully, and he pulls me back to him again. Our free hands clasp together and he starts to move us around the floor again. "Part of being the best is looking your best, which means wearing the best."

He twirls me a few times. My hair flies out around me, like a cascade of monarch butterflies is floating around me. He pulls me back in closely. "My earrings are an expression of all of that. The light blue stone is the rarest form of aquamarine that's ever been found, and from it hangs an extinct type of cashmere. All exclusive, and all the best."

He dips me real low, and the song stops. His earrings dangle down towards me and tickle my throat. I find myself breathing more deeply than I thought I'd be. His eyes lock with mine, and coupled together with his smirk, it looks as though he's barely holding back a salacious proposal.

"Did that answer your question?"

Wow. I struggle to get my thoughts in order. "Uh…almost. Why aquamarine?"

He leans in closer, the cashmere continues to brush my throat and awakens sensations of lust. "It's my birthstone, that's why."

March huh? He didn't strike me as someone who was brought into life during the same time Earth's flowers rouse from their long winter sleep, but maybe I'm missing something here.

He leans closer still until his face is an inch away from mine. I sink further into the raw, tantalizing feeling rushing through my veins.

"Give me the bracelet."

My eyes go wide. "What?"

"You heard me. It is the only thing in life that prevents me from actually being the best, and I want it."

My eyes narrow. "I will not."

His mouth goes into a firm line, and his harsh look returns. "I gave you plenty of proof, and I am helping you out. I've earned it, and you will give it to me."

"I've known you less than 24 hours, and this is not a decision meant to be taken lightly. It requires time and careful consideration, the future of this country deserves nothing less."

BANG!

"Ow!"

Once I completed my input, Prince Jun dropped me. I was close to the ground, but it hurt anyway. Prince Jun stands hovering over me like nothing happened.

He looks down at me and crosses his arms. "We are done for today."

I rub the back of my head and then shake my fist at him. "Pout all you want, little boy. Go on, see how far it gets you."

He steps over me so that he has one leg on either side of my hips, then he stares me down. "Or maybe we'll resume if you can learn to play nice."

I'm the one who needs to play nice?! I'm tempted to trip him. "Nah, I think I'll go back to my room and polish the bracelet." Now he looks pissed. I start to sit up. "You can go back to your room and cry to your teddy bear, little boy."

With that, he takes a step forward so that his feet are now right by my elbows. He then crouches down over me and hovers in a menacing fashion, folded arms resting on his knees and his royal blue eyes looking like the darkest before the dawn. Real mature.

I find this humorous. Prince Jun isn't really all that little; he's got an athletic build and is at least six inches taller than I am. However, he's younger than I am (which, up until now, I forgot about), and I always have a hard time taking younger men seriously because they inevitably act like this.

"I told you, you will call me Prince Jun and nothing else. Apologize."

He can't bully me. "No."

"Perhaps I shall hire an alchemist to make a perfume called Charm for you; that's clearly the closest you're ever going to come to having any of your own." He untucks his arms and slowly places his hands on my arms. "I said apologize."

Despite the zing, I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of this. "Oh yes, this is the most majestic behavior I've ever seen come from a man. How could I of been so blind? You were clearly meant to be king."

His eyes go wide. He stands back up, and walks away from me. He doesn't say a word as he leaves the dance hall, it is silent but for the sound of his heels clicking against the floor. Each step vibrates his energy back to me, and he's clearly a force to be reckoned with.

I stand up and brush off my dress. I'm a little disappointed everything ended the way it did; how could a man I danced so beautifully with act so wickedly? Well, let him pout. He obviously needs to learn some things can't be forced, which is a good lesson for someone who wants to be king.

I scan the room quickly. I do not see a music player of any sort, nor do I see evidence of speakers. Hmm, I wonder…

I snap my fingers. Nothing. He DID he do that?!