51 Words of Wisdom

The trio of assistants stood in awe as Maxen sauntered inside Olivia's apartment as if he owned it. But what really caught their attention was the bunch of random flowers tied in a red ribbon in his hand.

The flowers were beautiful, no doubt about that. Six stems of mixed dusty rose and white peony coupled with stems of eucalyptus looked great together and would have made a beautiful bouquet, but the way it was arranged doesn't make the flowers stand out in any way nor give justice to its beauty. After seeing how poorly arranged the flowers were, the trio came up with the same conclusion: the prince was swindled by the florist.

"Is Olivia home?" Maxen asked, sweeping his eyes across the living room then the dining room, and finally the kitchen. He swiveled on his heel to face the trio when he didn't find who he was looking for.

"She's in the office running through some paperwork, Your Highness," Secretary Gail almost stammered a reply when Maxen's eyes landed straight on her. She fidgeted in her place – her thumbs rapidly rubbed in her index finger, feeling nervous at how imposing Maxen was even without uttering a single word. She was about to usher him to the office but Maxen snapped a finger and said, "I got it."

They were half expecting Maxen to barge into Olivia's office after his reply but was surprised when he went straight to the couch in the living room and made himself comfortable.

"Jaaack," Maxen called out, dragging the last syllable of his butler's name.

"At your service, Your Highness," Jack hastily followed Maxen's trail towards the living room where the latter lazily sprawled himself on the sofa — his long legs splayed like a 'V' and his arm spread like a wingspan.

"My vitamins. Neat," Maxen ordered with his eyes closed and his head leaning on the sofa's backrest. He could feel his eyes pulsate in its sockets that he pinched his nose bridge to relieve it from the pain.

A few moments later, Jack came back holding a neat glass of scotch. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, tickling Jack's nose with its aroma as he inched closer to his boss. He handed the drink to Maxen and bowed before he left and hid in the confines of the pocket room in the kitchen where the rest of his comrades already retreated for the night.

"Why did he call it vitamins?" Yana curiously asked Jack as soon as he entered the room.

"Because he drinks a glass… regularly," Jack replied warily. He second-guessed himself, unsure if he had made the right choice by divulging such detail to the little lass. "He's not alcoholic, don't worry," he guaranteed just to put Yana's doubts at ease.

He saw how the little lass's train of thought ran like a bullet train with the random fact that she gathered. He smirked at Yana, impressed at how her loyalty worked, as if she had been employed by Olivia for a very long time even when it was only her second day at the job.

Across Jack, Yana let the matter go and plopped on the lower bunk bed in the pocket room. "If you say sooo," she haughtily said.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the trio of assistants stayed in the cave, each minding their own businesses: Jack wrote in his journal, Secretary Gail arranged Olivia's schedule two weeks ahead, and Yana explored her webnovel app.

…

In the living room, Maxen downed his vitamin drink to relieve his body from the physical strains of today's activities.

Today he had to endure a two-hour flight out then another two-hour flight back in the country. Not to mention the tight schedule he had, meeting foreign dignitaries with fake and forced smiles plus observing traditions that he had to memorize by heart lest he wanted to make the headlines with an innocent mistake.

Oh, and let's not forget that he had to look immaculate that not one strand of hair was out of place, primarily because he had to look the part of being a prince and, of course, because of the media who was thirsty to capture his every move.

After emptying his glass, he placed it on the center table and massaged his forehead when everything about his coveted title and envied life started to tire him out yet again.

While it was true that he grew up and enjoyed the day and night charities, luncheons and galas, plus the perks of ladies swarming him everywhere he went, everything was starting to burn him out that he even found himself asking his reflection in the mirror if what's happening in his life makes any sense at all.

But tonight, it didn't matter whether or not what he does makes sense. He simply wanted to rush home so he could get a glimpse of the lady who swept his feet off the ground.

And like the past two nights of his life, he found solace in an unusual place - a place he stepped foot two nights ago yet somehow felt like home for him. A helpless smile curved his lips as he glanced at Olivia's office door.

Suddenly, he realized that his legs had a mind of its own when he subconsciously peeled himself off from the couch, standing in a daze as the alcohol started to kick in.

With the bunch of flowers that he randomly picked in his mother's garden in the Sui Estate earlier where he made a quick trip before heading to Rockaway Tower, he took long and resolute strides to Olivia's office.

He lifted the flowers in his hands and took out one stem that the queen reminded him to keep as a backup plan just in case 'O Sui' will either throw the flowers to the bin or displace her anger by bashing him to his death with the bunch of flowers.

Maxen's hand hovered on the knob as Queen Isla's words of wisdom echoed in his ears:

"She'll never believe your words and she'll always doubt your sincerity which will hurt... and will definitely sting. But one must pay for his sins not just once but for the rest of his life. That's what you get when you don't listen to your mama."

Like a true soldier, Maxen squeezed the knob and marched on to his impending fate.

…

Inside her office, Olivia was in an important web conference with a Pyxis colleague when the door gingerly opened. Her reflex acted that she grabbed the box of tissue on her desk, ready to hurl it at the intruder — and so she did with great force and perfect angle that it landed straight on Maxen's forehead with a thud.

The little prince was so surprised that he fell off-balance, not to mention his height playing to his disadvantage that he hit the back of his head on the hallway wall behind him too.

"Oh, Lord," Olivia abruptly stood to rush over to Maxen's aid but went back to sit and face the camera. "I'll be right back, Tris. I think I just murdered someone with a tissue box." She muted the mic and went about to help the fallen from grace prince, kneeling beside him to check for concussions.

Out in the hallway, Maxen frowned upon hearing a man's laughter from Olivia's desktop computer but decided to play-dead when Olivia's worried steps tickled his ears and put his heart into ease.

"Please stop acting foolish and get up," Olivia called him out, her voice was stern yet her lips slightly tugged up at how silly Maxen looked like. If she had a chalk, she'd drawn an outline of his body. She nudged him with the tip of her indoor slippers but the spoiled little prince lay still and flat on the floor.

"I'm huuurt," he whimpered, forcing Olivia to kneel down. She pulled him up to a comfortable sitting position on the floor so she could take a closer look at him.

"Hand-picked by yours truly from the queen's garden," he said. Bringing the flowers to his chest which Olivia nonchalantly accepted without even appreciating his efforts nor the flowers.

"I'm in an important meeting, Max. Now, if you're not hurt, can you drag your ass back to the couch and wait for me to finish?"

"Yes, I'm hurt."

"Where?" Olivia raised a brow in question and true enough, she was flabbergasted at the audacity of Maxen to keep up with his act.

"Here," he pointed to his lips but instead of a smooch he was assaulted by the flowers on his chest and arms where Olivia whipped him, sending the petals flying in all directions.

"Stop! Stop! Ok. I'm not hurt," he pleaded as he laughed childishly. He grabbed Olivia's wrist when she didn't stop, looking as if she's out to spill his blood in her hallway.

Olivia's chest heaved up and down with anger boiling in her stomach but simmered down when Maxen bopped a stem of tulip on her nose. It was the back-up flower that Queen Isla had given him. Its petals that were white as snow were covered with dancing flames of red, catching her eye and taking her breath away.

Olivia sat with her bottoms kissing her heels to admire its beauty before pursing her lips, annoyed that she got swayed, yet again, by the little prince's machinations.