A strong sense of Déjà vu washed over Roy as he stood on the helipad, with Ji-Yu to his left, Gail and Merrick to his right, and at least fifty servants in rows behind him. Clouds mottled the pale blue sky, but it wasn't breezy, so Roy only shivered slightly as he waited.
Well, he'd be shivering less if he hadn't been there for twenty minutes.
"Are they here yet?" Gail whined, holding onto Roy and Merrick's hands. "I'm cold!"
"Not long now, peanut," said Merrick. "I'm sure they'll be here… er, soon."
Roy glanced at his mother; her hanbok wasn't one of her newer ones – rather, one that that her parents had given her many years ago. There was some obvious wear in the deep midnight blue of the fabric, but it must've been precious enough to keep. But even if she'd come dressed for the occasion, she jumped from foot to foot, shoulders pulled in towards her thin frame, hair yanked into the most severe bun, hand on head.
He didn't remember Ji-Yu ever being this anxious about her family's arrival. Why did she dread Mimi so much?
"You okay, Mother?" he asked.
She removed her hand. "Yes, fine. A little tired, is all."
"It's barely twelve."
"I know," she said. "Doesn't bode well."
Though it was probably because they'd been standing there. Endlessly. Waiting.
A familiar buzz echoed from the air, and everyone simultaneously looked up. It started as a speck in the distance that grew into a helicopter, engorging in size the closer it got to them. Wind sliced through his clothes, and Roy pulled his coat closer to him.
When the helicopter landed, the pilots opened the doors.
Two people were at the door, and the woman alighted first. Young-Sook Kim, Roy's grandmother. Her thinning grey hair reached just to her shoulders, and her skin pale and leathery. Unlike the Schreaves, Young-Sook hadn't bothered to dress fancily, appearing in a long, dark green smock and trousers.
She pattered slowly across the helipad and said in Korean, "Come here and hug your mother, Ji-Yu."
Ji-Yu met her halfway. "Mother, wonderful to see you," she said, leaning down to embrace her.
The pilot helped a man next. There was less of Hwan Kim's hair the last time Roy had seen him. He stretched his back, arms and legs a comically long time, showing off his liver spots.
"Where's my favourite grandchild?"
Gail split from Roy and Merrick and ran towards him. "Harabeoji!" she yelled. Grandfather.
He nearly collapsed with the weight of her. "There she is! And you're so big now! How have you been, peanut?"
Young-Sook shuffled over with Ji-Yu. Her grin tugged all of her skin tightly together, and she pulled Roy into a long hug. "Ah, Jun. You're so handsome now."
"Halmeoni," he greeted. Grandmother. "How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you," she said, polite as always.
Merrick had taken on his weird, awkward smile, as he always did around Ji-Yu's parents, and stuck out a hand. "It's good to see you, Young-Sook."
She shook his hand – her grip wasn't at all fading either, by the fleeting horror on Merrick's face. "Thank you." The few words she knew in English were well-pronounced; Roy could hardly tell she didn't speak the language.
Hwan came over with Gail bundled in his arms, but put her down almost immediately. "You're too heavy for me now, peanut."
"But Oji, I want to fly!"
"I'm sure Appa will rectify that soon enough." He gave Merrick and Ji-Yu a quick hug before clasping Roy hard on the back. "How's my least favourite grandchild?"
Roy frowned. "You only have two grandkids…"
"Well, obviously Gail is my favourite, and then it's you, so technically you're last." He grinned back, hunching his shoulders in teasing. "How's your Korean?"
"My Korean is excellent, thank you."
Hwan hooted with laughter. "It's so accented! You sound like an Illéan trying to be Korean!"
"But I am Illé—"
"What about you, Su-Jin?" Hwan said, using Gail's Korean name. "How's your Korean?"
"My Korean is good!" Gail piped. "Ceramic bowl from the Goryeo dynasty!"
It was an extremely long word in Korean, with seventeen syllable blocks, like the equivalent of disestablishmentarianism, and Roy double-took.
Yet, Hwan just nodded and petted her head. "Look at that! My favourite grandchild, knowing all the big words."
Ji-Yu frowned. "Where did you learn that, Su-Jin?"
"Oji told me it two seconds ago!"
They all laughed. Well, except Merrick, who awkwardly grinned and pretended he knew what was going on. Ji-Yu had to translate for him, and by the end of it, he was smiling a little wider, but the joke was probably funnier in its native language. They couldn't win, when his grandparents were over – either it was Merrick left in the blue when they conversed in Korean, or Young-Sook in English.
Ji-Yu's face dropped the merriment. "Where's Mimi?"
Hwan and Young-Sook exchanged glances.
"Er," Hwan started. He jerked his head. "Making an entrance."
Another buzz snagged their attention. Another helicopter, large and pink, the shade of cotton candy and studded with gemstones, blades chopping through cloud like a delicate ribbon dancer, fluttered towards them and touched down in front of the stationary helicopter.
The pilots exited but, instead of helping out the passengers like the others had for Hwan and Young-Sook, they stood on opposite sides of the helicopter door, trumpets in hand. A synchronised tune blasted out into the air, with snippets of both the Illéan and the South Korean national anthems slipping through.
Then they opened the doors. A boot emerged first – the fattest, tallest, glitteriest pink heel Roy had ever seen, almost blinding with how many gems were embedded onto its surface. The second one joined, and finally the body with it, in a matching glitzy pink bodycon dress, and hair clips pinning long blonde hair into a Cinderella style.
Aunt Mimi announced over the fanfare, "I'm heeeeeeeeeeeere!"
She descended the steps with her hips swinging. As she neared, Roy noted that age was catching up to her. Wrinkles peeked from beneath her heavy make-up and lines from her forehead. Her brown eyes glimmered like precious jewels of their own, the only thing youthful about them being the mischievous twinkle.
Startling how alike and yet unalike she and Ji-Yu were, underneath the glamour of a diva and the duty of a queen. Same face, same body shape, same eyes. But their presentation couldn't have been any more different.
Mimi rushed over as fast as her heels could take her and seized Ji-Yu in a hug. "Ji-Ji! My favourite baby sister!"
Ji-Yu choked out a meagre, "Hi," back to her.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, eyelashes thick with mascara. "You know how I am."
"Yes, regretfully," said Ji-Yu. "Not like we've been standing here in the December cold, waiting for you."
Mimi stuck out her tongue before her eyes snagged on Roy. "Oh my god, Roy, is that you? That haircut! You're so handsome! And look how manly you are!"
She squished his cheeks as he said, unconvincingly, "I'm the manliest man to ever man."
"And your Selection!" Mimi's glossy red lips formed an o shape. "I want all the details! Everything! Tell me all the gossip! Right now—" She cut herself off as she noticed the entourage of servants. "Wait. Why are all these people here?"
Ji-Yu glanced to the side. "For your things. In your helicopters?"
"Oh, no, my things are coming in my limousines. They should have arrived by now."
Ji-Yu's eye twitched, and she quickly rushed to the edge of the building. Roy joined her to see, though her face would've said everything anyway – three limos, also bright pink, parked in the front courtyard and awaiting orders from authority.
Ji-Yu quickly hustled the servants into gear, and all fifty of them trounced back downstairs to deliver her belongings to her bedroom. In the meantime, the rest of them headed towards the West Wing drawing room, where the Selected girls were waiting, and Mimi regaled them all with her latest adventures and purchases.
"I touched down not three hours ago from Paris, France! Had me a delicious croissant for breakfast. Gosh, those people know how to make food." She gestured to her boots. "These are Jimmy Choo's, of course. Well, they were made by his fiftieth great grandkids or whatever, but you know, it's the name that counts. Only one pair in the world, and I'm wearing them!"
Roy didn't even think they were cool ironically, but he knew Mimi long enough to know her taste extended far beyond the range of normal, and she bought him presents he liked, at least.
Mimi roped an arm around Roy and led him down the stairs.
"So, like I said, gossip. Tell me it all." She cupped her cheek. "I saw on social media that you eliminated Sherlock Graves the other day. And right after your date, it's rumoured!"
"That's exactly what happened, actually."
"Oh, wow. That's cruel… I love it." She waggled a finger. "No beating around the bush for my love-struck joka." Nephew. "Which of the lovely ladies do you love then, hmm?"
"Er, the break was mutual. And I'm not in love with anyone yet, let alone love-struck."
"You're not?"
The others passed the in the hallway. Ji-Yu offered him a pitiful look.
"Nope," he said to Mimi. "I'm still feeling around the waters right now."
"So your lack of dates in the papers wasn't just withheld information? You literally haven't been on many dates?"
"I've been… dealing with other things…"
If she caught the implication, she didn't react, and Mimi dragged her bottom lip down in a cringe face. "Well, your mother and father had been on three dates together at this point in his Selection. I remember, because I was screaming at the television for them to just marry already."
He wrinkled his nose. Dating and his parents shouldn't be in the same sentence. "I'm taking things at my own pace."
"Oh, and so you should," Mimi agreed, and she tugged him along again. "Come on. I want to meet the ladies!"
When the West Wing drawing room had been kitted out for Alex and Barney's arrival, the decoration had been subtle. Restrained. Boring. Because Roy thought them boring people who deserved no more than the bare minimum. But for his grandparents and, more importantly, Mimi, he'd asked the girls to go all out. And by all out, he had hinted very heavily one thing. Pink.
And pink they'd gone.
Creamy pink laces adorning the milky pink tablecloths. Hot pink lights strung up around the friezes. Pale pink vases from China, festooned with orchids, lilies, carnations, and a few petals of cherry blossom, and even the carpet had been exchanged for something pastel, with an ornate pattern shot through with salmon pink thread.
The girls had agreed on pink-themed wear, too. Luckily, they'd mostly chosen shades different to the room, to each other, and Mimi herself. Rainerd and Clarity were the only things in the room coloured dark and dismal, madly snapping photos in the corner.
Mimi clapped her hands together. "Oh, I love it! You all know how to throw a party!"
There was even a pink-coloured punch bowl by the buffet table. Like this was some sort of Japanese lolita high school prom.
As Mimi threw herself into introductions, not bothering to wait for Roy, Sashi sidled up to him. Her sari was, unsurprisingly, a dark pink.
"We were supposed to have a K-Pop band, but Avianna booked them for the wrong time. Think she was distracted from the task, if I'm honest."
If that was the worst that happened, today was successful. It seemed most of the girls could pull off organisation in a short space of time. Judging by the furtive looks between them, the organisation part might not have gone swimmingly.
Ji-Yu had a cup of punch and came to join them both with a disdainful eye. She rested her hand against her forehead.
"Feeling okay, Ji?" asked Sashi.
"Yes. I'm fine. Still… dizzy." She waved it away. "Though perhaps it's because of the pink. You know your aunt well, Roy."
"Too well," Sashi said. "I hate this theme. I think my eyes will bleed cotton candy, or, if I'm lucky, I'll cry some bright pink studded Jimmy Choo boots."
Bitterness in her voice, too. Roy chewed his lip. "What's wrong with you two? Why don't you like Aunt Mimi?"
They exchanged glances.
Ji-Yu, understandably, spoke first. "It's not that I don't like my sister. There's a good person beneath her glitz and glamour. But she's… a handful, and sometimes a frustration." She shrugged. "Call me boring, but if roles were reversed, I wouldn't want this pageant we've put on for her."
"Yeah. Same," said Sashi. "I mean, minus the sister part. That would be weird. But I met her during Ji-Yu's wedding, Roy, and she wanted to pal with me all day. I mean, I get it, I was super famous and basically best friend five-ever of your mother throughout the entire Selection, but… you know, there's friendly, and there's clingy."
"Typical Mimi. Always wanting the spotlight." Ji-Yu said it with an odd mix of derision and admiration. "She likes to have fun wherever she goes, but, you know… it's nice to slow down once in a while."
"Totes," said Sashi. "I was about to get off with a hot guy at the wedding reception too, before Mimi interrup— oh my god, Elise, that's too many trays to hold at once! You're not Ursula from the Little Mermaid, darn it!"
Sashi bolted off. Ji-Yu just smiled and sipped her punch, then grimaced.
"Too sweet." She sighed. "But aside from her flair for the extravagant, Roy, whenever she visits, she always… wants something."
Roy turned to her. "What?"
"Money. A favour. Networking contacts. Something." Her voice had taken an edge of warning. "I'm not saying she'll manipulate you or anything like that, nor do I think it's malicious in any way, but sometimes she thinks our kindness extends beyond the normal set boundaries between human beings because we're family and royalty. So just… be careful around her."
He didn't like the sound of that. "Okay, I guess. I think she seems fascinated with the Selection."
"Nothing has changed in twenty years, then."
Ji-Yu floated away, probably to dispose of the saccharine punch, and at that exact moment, Mimi popped free from the crowd to find Roy.
"Oh my god, I love her."
"… Who?"
"Delia Colestrist!" she whispered. "God, she's adorable! And she painted a picture of you! I have to see it. I hope you're hanging it somewhere. What do you think of her?"
After all that talk from Ji-Yu, he sat uncomfortably on the edge of I think she's a cool aunt and what does she want from me? "Yeah. I like Delia."
Mimi stared at him blankly, which, after a few moments, got really awkward. Heat rose up Roy's neck. "What?"
"That's it?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't you have, like… more to say about a complex human being whom may become your wife one day?"
He blanched. "I've only been on one date with Delia. Like, I know her, but I don't know her extremely well yet—"
"Good!" Mimi stuck a finger in the air. "She mentioned that she was desperate to be alone with you again. And I thought, perfect! So I set you up on a date with her!"
His stomach fell to his feet. "What?" he said. "For when?!"
"Now!"
His eyes scoured the crowd and, to his dismay, Delia stood right at the cusp of it, trying to not look like she was watching them expectantly and twirling her heel around on the carpet.
"You want me to go on a date with her now? What about the party?"
"You two can sneak off for a while, don't worry about it!" She nodded. "I've told Clarity and Rainerd, too, so they can take some photos for the paper!"
He couldn't spot them, which he supposed was better. Pretend like they weren't intruding.
"I mean," he rubbed his neck, "thanks and all, and I'll go on the date with her, but you didn't have to set it up during your—"
"Oh, please, Roy, you're practically miserable here. I know you want to go off and have a good time with your ladies." Mimi twirled him around and gave him a gentle push in Delia's direction. "Thank me later, and have fun!"
He nearly toppled right into Delia, but thankfully, he righted himself before things got awkward.
Though by the looks on her face, it was too late.
Her light blush matched with her pink chiton dress, cutting to her knee. In her gold gladiator heels, she nearly came up to Roy's height, though it was hard to tell with her head dipped. In reverence? Awkwardness? He didn't know.
She flickered her gaze to the door. "Ready to go?"
This was all happening so fast. He hadn't had any time to prepare, mentally or physically. His suit today spoke of confidence, of etiquette, not romance and dates and butterflies in his stomach. Stiffly, Roy swallowed and plastered on a smile.
"Yeah, let's go."
Where were they going? What would they do? It swirled in Roy's head, even as they slipped through the doors and into the quiet hallway. Mostly it was busy, with maids and butlers dashing in and out to replenish drinks and fix unfortunate spillages, but no one spoke, and the silence ballooned heavily in Roy's gut as it did the room.
They meandered into an emptier hallway, where a row of suits lined the walls, and a window overlooked the greenhouse by the exit of the East Wing.
Delia chewed her lip. "Your aunt seems nice."
"If by nice, you mean wild, then yes, she's very nice."
It earnt a chuckle from her, but didn't ease any of the tension roiling in Roy's gut. Dates were supposed to be fun, not forced. Sure, the whole Selection set-up was forced by its very fundamental nature, but even through that he had some choice. Some preparation. Not being chucked into it as easily as tossing a football.
He gulped his reservations down. "What did you talk about with her?"
"Oh, she wanted to know about our beach date, and what was running through my head, mostly." Her breathing stilted. "And about what I thought of you."
Desperate? He couldn't picture Delia scrounging at his feet for attention. He'd eliminated all the girls who he suspected would do that by now.
"What did you tell her?"
Her gaze settled on the suits. "She did most of the talking."
Of course.
"But I said… I told her…"
She took a deep breath and stopped in the hallway. Coming to stop besides her, Roy suddenly paled at the look of her face.
She stared him squarely in the eye and said, "I told her I was falling in love with you, Roy."
It might as well have backhanded him.
Boy, was he not expecting that.
It was such a heartfelt confession that now Roy felt guilty about his awkwardness. About wishing he was back at the party. She was in love with him?
Her face was cruelly unreadable, but her eyes glistened. This was a truth that had been sitting on her shoulders for a long time, deep into her bones. Yet she presented herself with such poise, it was like she'd practiced this moment. Envisioned how she would say those words.
This was big. Why did he feel so small?
"Oh." It lamely rolled off his tongue.
She swallowed, probably reading his face. "I understand… it's pretty fast. We don't know each other very well, Roy, but… I cannot change what my heart wants."
And Mimi had said she was desperate? It was the world's most conflicting half-truth.
Was he falling in love with Delia?
Perhaps she was with him, despite their humble relationship, but he couldn't say the same. He had to know her. More deeply than this.
Delia inhaled another breath and took another step forwards. "It's… okay if you don't feel the same. I'm willing… I'm willing to wait, if you are."
"Yeah, okay." It seemed such an anti-climax to her confession. "Yeah. Let's… wait it out and see."
How the heck was he supposed to go through the rest of the date now, after that?
He didn't pursue her as she ambled down the hallway, staring out the window to the greenhouse. In fact, staying would make it even more awkward, suffocating him like a silk ribbon around his neck.
"I'm… going to go back to the party."
She turned. A few metres away, her face was still wholly blank. "You are?"
"Yeah." He rubbed his neck. "I think you should to. I just need to… digest that, is all."
"And being around other people helps?"
He wasn't sure he liked the edge to her voice. "It does." It would distract him enough so he could process and ponder on it later, at least.
Delia clasped her hands together in front of her until her knuckles whitened, but she nodded, and wordlessly, they both returned to the party.
=#=#=#=
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By the time both Roy and Delia returned to the West Wing drawing room, the party was in full swing. Mimi had already had enough of the alcoholic punch to kick-start her party mode, which involved a failed attempt at a line dance to a blearing K-Pop tune. Somehow, she'd dragged very put-out Luna and Camilla to join her on both sides.
But luckily, it meant she didn't see Roy standing at the back, for once, trying not to be the star of the show.
He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Rudy. Please help me.
His phone buzzed with immediate response. What's the problem?
A Selected confessed her love to me.
There was a long pause before Rudy replied at all.
Dear lord, how much did you drink?
I haven't even had a sip!
Pardon me that I struggle to believe you, Your Highness.
"Roy!"
Roy looked up to Mimi, stumbling towards him. How long were they gone that she'd cut loose this quickly?
Her eyebrows wiggled. "Gosh, that was a fast date. You really don't beat around the bush, do you? So how'd it go?"
"You never said she was going to confess her love to me."
Mimi's face warped from mild interest to desperate intrigue in under a second.
"Oh my god, she actually confessed? I was sure she wasn't going to say it to you, at least not today!" Her laugh burst over the music. "That is hilarious! So what did you do?"
"… I'm back here, aren't I?"
Her face dropped as fast as it had been surprised. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Roy! It's too early for all that serious business, isn't it? Did you eliminate her?"
"No," Roy said. "We agreed to wait and see. I need time to, er, process."
"Okay…" Mimi scratched her chin. "Well, that'll make things a lot easier I guess."
"Easier? For what?"
"Didn't she tell you?"
Not for the first time today, Roy's gut shrivelled inside him. "Didn't tell me what?"
"I invited her family around!"
He wished he'd misheard. "You invited her family around?!"
"I mean, I invited all the Selected's families around. Can't show too much bias, now can I?" She clapped her hands giddily, and it starkly reminded Roy of Gail. "I'm going to host a fabulous dinner party with all your Elite's parents and siblings! How cute is that?"
If an earthquake had happened, Roy would've felt no different, because the world seemed to shift under his feet.
The Elite's families. All of them. In this palace. Judging him with every fibre of their beings.
"B-But—… You can't—…"
"Don't worry! I'll take care of all the details. Flights, dress code, menu, etc. And we'll get the Elite to help, too, so you can really find out who's cut out for party-throwing." She petted his head. "You just worry about being presentable. And you might want to look extra pretty so you can impress all the protective mothers and fathers. Won't be very difficult for you!"
His gaze drifted to the other Selected, who were milling about with each other. Most seemed to be hunched up, worry clouding their expression, the whimsy of the party lost entirely on them now that another pressure had to be added.
He massaged his temple, and when he looked up, Rudy had appeared by his side, wearily watching Delia from the far off. Mimi patted Rudy's shoulder.
"You can help, right, Rudy?" Without waiting for a response, she skipped off and roped Luna and Camilla back into the dance.
Rudy's frown tipped further down. "Help with…?"
"So, Delia confessing her love to me? Now a thousand times worse because her parents are coming over." He explained what Mimi had told him. "For once, I don't feel like partying."
"That's new," said Rudy. "Though you were bound to meet parents at some point, surely?"
"I mean… yeah, but…"
On his terms. Not Mimi's.
Maybe Ji-Yu's dread made an inkling more sense now.
He worked his mouth like the problem was stale gum, refusing to bend to his jaw, and he watched the gathered people from the cusp, too apprehensive to join in.
From the crowd, Merrick peeled away, spotting Roy and Rudy standing together by the wall at the back.
"Are you okay, son?"
He hadn't noticed it before, but Merrick was wearing that same brooch from before. The Gordian knot, gleaming on his lapel. It represented unity, Merrick had once said.
"I'm fine. Mimi's organised a thing with the Selected's parents." Roy raised an eyebrow. "You didn't agree to it, did you?"
"Oh, no. Mimi… tends to do her own thing. But it sounds like a good idea. I'd like to meet some of the ladies' parents." He bowed his head to both him and Rudy. "Well, I do hope you enjoy the festivities."
"Wait. You're not staying?"
"Oh, no." His gaze flitted to the door with a frown. "I… have some things to do."
He left without another word, and Roy tried not to find it strange.
"I suppose this isn't as enjoyable for him," Rudy quipped.
"What are you talking about? Dad loves a line dance!"
"You know what time of year it is, right? December?"
It hit Roy. Of course. December, close to the anniversary of his paternal grandmother's unfortunate death. Merrick's mother, Diantha, succumbing to total loss of mind, to death, and leaving him with a crown and an empty heart.
Roy had never met Diantha, her dying before he was born, before his parents were even married, and Merrick rarely talked about her, but from the looks of it, her death was a betrayal to him. With his sisters married off to foreign parties, and his father wasting away on drink, Diantha was all he had left.
Watching Ji-Yu's parents, alive and well, must've been a kick in the gut.
"Jun!"
Ji-Yu had come through the doors. Before, she might have looked frustrated, annoyed even, but now it was replaced with a ghostly terror, echoing throughout her whole body like a ripple in a pool. Entirely different to Merrick's wistful aura.
She found him, grabbed his arm, and immediately pulled him outside.
"Hey, Mother, wait!"
Rudy dutifully followed, but, naturally, did nothing to stop them, and Ji-Yu's grip didn't lessen until they were far from the party, in her office, with the doors shut behind them.
He yanked his arm back. "Do you mind?" he snapped. "What's the problem?"
Gemima was also in the room. She didn't wear her expressions often, but today she might as well have been told her whole family was dead. Staring out the window, she met Roy's gaze with solemn sadness.
Was it him, or was the way the sun reached weakly into the office an austere, ominous message?
"Your Highness," Gemina greeted. "I'm afraid there's been some bad news."
"Bad news?!" Ji-Yu suddenly barked. "That's how you choose to phrase it?"
He hadn't got a closer look at his mother's face, but now, when she wasn't dragging him against his will, he could see the blotchy cheeks. The strands of hair flitting about in chaos. Red eyes.
She'd been crying.
It curdled the defiance on Roy's tongue.
Today felt like he'd been left out of the loop from everything.
"What's the bad news?"
Ji-Yu inhaled a breath, but a tear rolled down his cheek. Watching her cry so openly was cracking whatever fragile shield he'd assembled over the last few days.
"It's the spy."
It ripped across his chest. "Skye?" he whispered.
"No. Not her." Tears fell without abandon. "There's another spy, Jun. Another one of the Elite girls is a rebel. There had been two all along."
A/N: Hahah, can you imagine if I left Roy in peace for more than a few chapters? How amusing the thought is! *chortles evilly* Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Another poll on my profile! Not concerning the story, but it's been bothering me for a while: aside from when you have a question, do you like replies to your reviews? I'm not sure whether people appreciate replies or not, so I opened a poll, mostly to satiate curiosity, but also to guide my own actions in future. Sometimes I have amazing responses (like puns, as some of you will have regrettably discovered), but most the time I don't have much to say other than "thanks for reviewing!", so I wonder if it's worth replying at all.
So, Ji-Yu's nuts sister, Delia's unexpected confession, Merrick unusual melancholy, a dreaded dinner with the parents, and the second spy. Things are looking bleak, but they surely can't get bleaker... can they? Expect a very awkward prince at a very awkward party in 46!
As always, friends, thanks for reviewing, favouriting, following, and, of course, reading along.
~ GWA
NTT: "Like, he's a bad boy, a spicy fajita during a romantic date, whereas Prince Barnabas is lumpy porridge on a rainy Monday morning."
