25 25-The Prince of Midon?

Noah

I stretched out my hand and impulsively placed it on my chest. Why was it beating so hard?

I turned to stare at Ashley, her eyes reminding me of the woman I danced with at the ball and so did her sharp tongue.

I scoffed remembering Ashley's words. How dare she think that I was aching for her attention? 

But it was all pretense for me, all I wanted was to forget the pressure of being a prince and the future King of Midon and Ashley had been my coping mechanism.

Her poker face was the one who welcomed me into the bakery. Her blinding beauty kept me gaping and her saucy mouth imprinted a grin on my face.

I placed a hand on my hips and wondered why my thoughts were distorted by her.

I sighted Emily walking towards me with a oily paper bag.

"Why did you clock out yesterday without saying a word?" I heard Emily ask.

My mouth opened and my hands reached out to rub my forehead.