Your haughty, conceited highness,
I still cannot comprehend how we have come so far.
To me, the day you slid your arms around my waist, as we gazed into a rich, star spangled night, with the lights of the town glinting like diamond points, trying to imitate the primal glowing pattern in the sky, is just as pristine as the day I first saw you, in all of your hedonistic glory, as you strutted out of the airport in Charles, cribbing to Prince Joshua about this and that. Typical.
At that time, I didn’t think twice about you. I didn’t moon over you like the people at the airport did. You had seemed oblivious to and uncaring about all of that, anyway.
Later, destiny thrust us together in a half-hearted, yet charged dance. I disliked you, but I was also secretly pleased that I had shared it with you. When you said, in that tea room, in your characteristic clipped tone, that you didn’t recollect dancing with me, I have to admit, I felt a stab of disappointment, and yes, darn it, I did feel considerably better when the fact that you did remember came into the light.
When that pure white envelope, which I still cherish in a secret drawer of mine, arrived, with your signature upon it, I was stymied. YOU? Weren’t my designs, in your ‘humble’ opinion, juvenile?
Monsieur Pierre encouraged me enough to take the leap into Liberty, and be confronted with the following people:
1) About fifty designers, all, in your own words, ‘A dime a dozen.'
2) Alma, the head designer, a perceptive woman I immediately grew to admire.
3) The obnoxiously cruel Prince, who kicked designers out without a second thought, who I sparred with on my first day, aka, you.
My feelings weren’t covert. Me being the goofball I was, I had admitted just how big a jerk I believed you were to Alma! She had only looked at me pityingly, somewhat dismayed, and had told me that the opinion I harboured was erroneous. As for why, I discovered the answers slowly.
When Laura Nicholson, the actress, hurled her money at me and humiliated me, I had no friend to support me. Everyone watched the spectacle silently. You walked away too, only to come back to defend me and give me a ride in your car. Even as you insulted and belittled me in your peremptory manner, there was humanity in you. You didn’t really consider socio-economic difference as a factor that determined worth, even though your words seemed to convey otherwise.
When we look back upon our enshrined moments and your speech comes up, you insist that I played a major role in its success, but I disagree. YOU wrote that speech. YOUR words moved people. I just told you that you could do it, which you already knew, somewhere deep inside. A little boost, that was all there was to it, and yet you took me to the swankiest, most marvellous fabric store in town in return. You weren’t as heartless as I had surmised.
At the ball in Nobel Michel’s castle, you reprimanded me and carried me in your concern, and from your balcony, you razzed me, and both oddly seemed to comfort me. I didn’t realize when exactly I began to wade into the ocean of love, but I think I was already entering by the time I met Catherine. Catherine. Your beautiful, ethereal little fairy in the garden who, sadly, no one knew about. Your sibling, who you adored fiercely and loved more than your own self. You gave her whatever you could, and even when you lost your cool because I touched Cathy’s clip, it wasn’t dreary when I realised just how wonderful a brother you were.
Every time you embrace me, Keith, a million frenzied nerve impulses are discharged from my neurons and adrenaline sings loudly in my blood. It happens even now, after about a hundred times. The first hug, when you snuck into my bedroom to apologize to me for blowing up earlier, was indescribable, just like your kisses are. I still cannot make up my mind about what they taste like. Heaven isn’t adequate, I am afraid.
The pulchritudinous island, with its unique flora and fauna and breath hitching sights, our secret cave amid the stately trees, cocooned in the fondling lap of the water, which you and Cathy had claimed as your own little world, has easily made it into my list of one of the most special places in the cosmos. For one, both of you had shared it with me.
Also, it was where we had confessed our love for each other. We were always 'arguing’, but we cared. When you told me you loved me, Keith, I cannot tell you how I felt. Every cell in my body just about spontaneously combusted. I really cannot, because certain sentiments are so profound, they cannot completely be described, but they make you feel like you could harmonize with the universe again. YOU. LOVED. ME.
Of course, our dream was shattered even as the tranquil sun clambered into the sky, as the oil company corruption crisis we set out to resolve together only drove us apart. You were to be engaged to Laura to simmer things down in the kingdom. All of the moments after that were, straight out, a living nightmare. The escape was the worst of them all. You wanted to elope, but I couldn’t succumb to selfishness and take you away from your country and your people, who needed you. Your agony and my sorrow tore at our souls. Your promise to me gave me hope. You said you’d come back for me. The first time I had come to Liberty (with Roberto, and you had forced us out!) and the moments that had seemed like the last both burned into my memory even as I worked in Charles.
You came, swept me off my feet like the hero you were, and took me back home. You were a genius. You had cleared everything up. You had formed a coalition with the other princes and stabilized the economy of your country.
Gosh, look at where we are now. Engaged to be wedded, still squabbling, but inwardly rejoicing and revelling in each other’s company.
Our affection is a piece of the chaos in the stars, the dance of the northern lights and roaring waves engulfing land. I love you, more than you’ll ever know, dweeb.
I love you, my beautiful jerk. Thank you for loving me for who I am.
Your exasperating commoner princess,
