THE MEET AND GREET

The sun had barely risen when I found myself back on the bustling streets of the city, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. The idea of becoming a concubine to Prince Adrian was as suffocating as the crowded streets of the market. As I pushed through the throng of people, I couldn’t help but replay the events of yesterday’s meet and greet in my mind.

"I would rather go back to the streets than be a concubine to this over-pampered man who thinks he can have everything his way," I had said defiantly, meeting Prince Adrian’s gaze with unwavering eyes.

He chuckled, a sound that grated on my nerves. "You should be honored to be part of my concubines. Women roll on the floor and beg to be with me. Why are you different?" he asked, his arrogance almost palpable.

I remembered the old saying, “When a man is so full of himself, his downfall is for you to watch out for.” The prince turned back and left without another word, leaving me standing there, heart pounding in defiance.

When I returned home, my adopted parents were furious. "Lizzie! Lizzie!" my adopted mother screamed my name from her well-appointed room.

"Yes, Mother?" I replied, already weary of the confrontation.

"I heard you embarrassed us today at the meet and greet with the prince. Don't forget you have to do what we want. We picked you up from the streets, and you will go back there if you don’t accept the prince’s proposal."

"But Mother," I protested, "he wants me to be his concubine."

"And so?" she shouted. I was accustomed to her yelling, so it barely fazed me. "Are you worth more than a concubine? Do you want to be a princess?" she spat, laughing at me as if I had spoken nonsense. "You will go back tomorrow, apologize to the prince, and accept his proposal."

"No, Mother. I will do no such thing. I have dreams and aspirations, and I want to fulfill them. Please, Mother," I pleaded.

Her response was a night of beatings and being sent to bed without dinner. As usual, the following morning began with my name being shouted through the house.

"I'm sorry. My name is Elizabeth Michael. I'm fifteen years old, and I live with my adopted parents, who treat me as a punching bag when they're angry and as a maid daily. My biological parents abandoned me as a baby, and I know nothing of them. As for the prince, he’s well-known in our city. Long story short, my life is about as bleak as you can imagine. Anyway, after completing my chores, I left for school.

“Hey, Lizzie? Lizzie?” My friend Ann called, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

“What is it? Why are you shouting my name so much?” I asked, curious and slightly annoyed.

“The prince has been looking for you all morning,” Ann said, her eyes wide with excitement.

Ann sometimes scared me with her energy, but I loved her fiercely. She was my rock in a world of chaos.

“Why is the prince looking for me?” I asked, puzzled.

A voice behind me replied, “To have a word, of course.”

I turned to find Prince Adrian himself standing there. “What would you like to talk about?” I asked, my voice steady despite my racing heart.

“In private,” he replied, gesturing for us to move aside. We entered an empty classroom, and he stood there staring at me.

“What?” I asked, breaking the silence. “I mean no disrespect, but why are you staring at me like that?”

“Why did you refuse my proposal to be my concubine?” he asked, his tone genuine. “A lot of girls in this school have been waiting for such a chance, and you refuse. You would be my first concubine. I want to know why.”

I held his gaze. “Because I’m not other girls.”

He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine. “Fine. Be my deputy princess, then,” he said.

“I don’t want your money,” I replied firmly.

He moved closer, his hands resting on the wall beside me, his breath mingling with mine. “Be my princess, then,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine.

For a moment, I was at a loss for words, and then I slapped him. His face registered shock, surprise, and, strangely, a smile.

“I have been in this world for twenty-one years, and no one has ever slapped me,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I met his gaze, unflinching. “Don’t assume all women are the same. Your money, your power, your games don’t faze me.”

He leaned even closer and whispered in my ear, “What fazes you?”

I looked at him sharply. “What is that which is hard to find, easy to lose, and can last a lifetime?” I asked, my voice steady.

Without waiting for a reply, I pushed his hand away and walked out of the room. “When you find out, you know where to find me,” I said over my shoulder.

Days passed, and I neither saw nor heard from him. Two weeks later, a bouquet of roses and an invitation arrived from the prince, inviting me to dinner. I wanted to refuse, but my mother insisted I go, threatening that I’d have to fend for myself for a week if I didn’t. So, reluctantly, I went.

As soon as I arrived at the dinner, I saw him sitting there, waiting. “I told you I’m not interested, so please leave me alone,” I said as I approached.

He stood up, determination in his eyes. “I have a proposal for you.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Date me for two months. After two months, if you’re not interested, I’ll stop,” he said. “You don’t have to tell anyone. It can be our secret. Just two months.”

For reasons I couldn’t understand, I agreed.

Over the course of two months, we talked a lot and spent time together. He showered me with gifts, but it was his assistant, James, whom I found myself drawn to. James was sweet, always there when I needed him, and understanding. We hit it off, and by the time the two months were up, I told the prince I wasn’t interested.

However, James and I kept in touch. A week later, I saw James at a restaurant with someone else. Surprisingly, it didn’t break my heart. It was then I realized I didn’t like him romantically. I loved his company, and I thought of him as a brother.

I decided to talk to the prince the following day, but I didn’t know where to start. I was confused, but I knew one thing for sure: I was in love.

The next day, the prince’s home was bustling with dignitaries and presidents. But that wasn’t what broke my heart. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I shouldn’t have rejected him. Just maybe.

I saw a huge picture of the prince with his arms wrapped around another woman, with the words, “Congratulations on Your Engagement.”

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