31 Not Today Prince Fraser

My feet carry me toward Prince Fraser and Princess Paislee, who are conversing in the garden. With the real Csille controlling my body today, I find myself drawn to them.

"Hey, there you are. I've been searching for you everywhere. What brings you both out here? Admiring the flowers?"

Csille positions herself between Prince Fraser and Princess Paislee, taking a seat on the bench-style chair. Farren stands and offers a slight bow in greeting, to which Csille responds with a wave, motioning for him to sit back down.

"The Crown Prince and I were discussing the Vrawyth High School of the Nobles. I heard you're also enrolled there, Lady Lauretré," Farren replied.

"Indeed, it's unfortunate Prince Fraser and I are not classmates. But how about you, Farren? Are you also attending school?"

Both Farren and Prince Fraser fell silent, and understandably so. Csille had unwittingly asked an insensitive question. In the western region, many families couldn't afford to send their children to school, leading teenagers to start working at a young age.

Great Csille! Out of all the questions to ask, you choose for that one? Seriously?

Prince Fraser clears his throat. "Csille, what brings you here?"

I meet Prince Fraser's glare, sensing his irritation over my interruption and insensitive question. According to the scene I've written, Prince Fraser will soon pull Csille away from this situation.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be here? I simply felt bored and thought it might be nice to chat with you both. After all, we're the same age, and I'm rather fed up with conversing with older individuals. Their discussions always seem to revolve around politics and similar topics," Csille remarked, her eyes rolling in exasperation.

"But understandinf politics, Lady Lauretré, could prove highly beneficial in the future." Farren responded.

Naturally, he'd respond in that manner. He has an affinity for politics and likely disapproves of Csille's lack of interest in the subject.

Csille chuckles. "Oh, I highly doubt it. And even if it were to happen someday, I have my father, the count, and even Prince Fraser to provide guidance. Isn't that right, Prince Fraser?"

Prince Fraser shakes his head. "Csille, can we have a moment to talk? There's something I need to discuss with you."

Csille blinks twice, indicating her lack of knowledge regarding the Crown Prince's intentions. "Is there something you want to discuss? Alright." She rises from her seat and waits for Prince Fraser to do the same.

Prince Fraser looks at Farren first. "I'll just have a brief conversation with her." Then he takes Csille's hand and guides her to a corner, close enough to Farren's seat to remain inconspicuous yet far enough to ensure Farren wouldn't overhear their conversation.

Fraser's grip on my arms tighten. "What are you doing, Csille?"

It's really true. The things I've written in my novel are unfolding before my eyes, just as I envisioned them. Yet, despite witnessing it multiple times, I still find it unsettling. It's akin to a cheat code, although ultimately, I have no control over the outcome. It's both fascinating and frustrating.

Csille attempted to free herself from Prince Fraser's grip. "I don't understand why you're upset, Prince Fraser. I simply wanted to join the conversation because I was feeling bored. I haven't done anything wrong."

"Don't you think I haven't noticed? You've been consistently interrupting my conversations with Farren for the past two days. What's going on with you?"

Csille glanced at the hands gripping her arms. "Could you release me, please? You're hurting me."

Upon hearing Csille's request, he promptly let go of her arms. "I apologize. I didn't mean to do that."

He was referring to the red marks on my arms. He attempted to touch them, but Csille slapped the Crown Prince's hands away.

"You should have told me you don't want me to interrupt you two. If that's what you want, then I won't bother you," Csille said as she turned her back on Prince Fraser and walked away.

I actually understand why he's mad, though. It's really rude to interrupt a conversation, Csille. You should know that. Didn't you learn it as proper etiquette?

I tried to talk my way to Csille, but she didn't seem to hear me, I guess? Since my feet continue to walk inside the house. I could also feel a lump in my throat. Oh no! Don't tell me you are going to cry, Csille Lauretré?

It's your fault, though. If you could simply learn to allow Prince Fraser to do his thing, then he wouldn't get upset with you. Farren is just a young man. Well, technically, she is a woman. However, you're unaware of that, right? So, why do you get irritated when the Crown Prince is talking to her? It just doesn't make sense.

Except if you could sense that Prince Fraser might have homosexual tendencies?

I shake my head at my own thoughts. Of course, I understand why the real Csille is wary of Farren. It's not because Csille thinks that Prince Fraser has the potential to be gay. It's more like she just wants all of Prince Fraser's attention.

Yeah, it sounds like an obsession, or you could sugarcoat it as her being just too into Prince Fraser.

______________

"Csille, come in." I heard my father say from inside his office.

He called me because he said he wanted to talk about something. Tomorrow, we will be heading back to the capital. The ship journey will take eight hours from here.

The count has called Csille to discuss her recent behavior. Csille has been constantly following Prince Fraser around wherever he goes, and the count has taken notice of it. He called Csille to ask her about her actions and intentions. He intends to address the situation and possibly impose restrictions on Csille to ensure Prince Fraser's peace during the trip to the Capital.

   It's also a scene I've written, so I still have no full control over my body. Csille took a deep breath before entering the count's office, knowing that things might not go as planned.

"Father, you called me?" she inquired as she stepped inside.

   The Count raised his head from reading some papers and gestured for Csille to take a seat on the visitor's chair in front of his table.

Csille obliged and waited for her father to speak. The Count deeply cared for his daughter, but when her actions involved matters concerning the monarchy, especially Prince Fraser as the future King, he took a more serious tone. He wouldn't want to upset the Crown Prince over Csille's current behavior.

  "Csille, what are you doing?" the Count asked, his tone serious.

Csille looked at her father, appearing confused. It's bewildering how she could act as though she doesn't understand what the Count is referring to. She could easily be an actress in the real world with such convincing performances.

   I know, I've written Csille this way, but it's fascinating to see the character I created come to life. It feels different experiencing it in real life compared to writing it.

"Don't try to play innocent with me. You know it won't work this time, Csille Lauretré!"

Oh no! The Count is already furious.

   Csille sighs and looks at her father. "Father, I just want to talk to them. Is it wrong to do that? I'm tired of hearing you and mother talk about politics and other adult stuff. I want to talk to someone who's the same age as me."

  The Count sighs, feeling a pang of regret. One of his greatest regrets in life is not giving Csille a sibling. He knows she longs for companionship. That's why he and the Countess strive to provide Csille with the best life possible. His silence stretches on as he weighs whether to discipline Csille or not.

    "Csille, I understand your desire for companionship with someone your age, but remember, the Crown Prince's status makes interactions with him different. Have you considered if he wants to talk to you?"

My head shakes involuntarily. Csille didn't consider this, assuming her status as the Crown Prince's fiancée meant he wouldn't be bothered by her presence.

   "That's the problem, Csille. You should ask permission first because if you continue joining them without invitation, it will disturb them both. Sir Farren is to be bestowed by the King as a royal knight, and the Crown Prince enjoys his company. It wouldn't be wise to upset them both."

   My eyes meet the Count's. Csille is wondering what the Count means.

"What do you mean by that, Father?"

"I want you to stay away from them for the whole trip. Csille, I know you only want to talk with people your age. However, communication is a two-way street. Didn't you notice how you irritate Prince Fraser?"

The real Csille understands that, but she disregards it. All she care is being with Prince Fraser regardless of the consequences.

"I understand, Father. I'll keep my distance," I respond, lowering my head, hoping to evoke sympathy from the Count to retract his instructions.

But it doesn't work. it's clear that Csille's strategy won't change the Count's decision. She'll have to keep her distance from Prince Fraser for now.

After bidding farewell, Csille exits the office with slumped shoulders, resigned to the situation. Well, it's inevitable. Things will happen as it is.

Tomorrow will be the day of our trip back to the Capital. Csille reluctantly accepted her father's directive, hoping for a chance to speak with the Crown Prince once they returned home.

However, her hopes will be dashed as upon their arrival, Csille and the Crown Prince will resume their studies in the dormitory without much opportunity for personal conversation.

As soon as I step my feet into my room, the real Csille, who is controlling my body, disappeared all of a sudden.

At last, I regained control. Collapsing onto the bed, I felt exhausted. It's surprising how draining it is to be without control over my body for the whole day.

I'm about to drift off to sleep when there's a sudden knock on the door. I sigh, wondering who would be knocking at this hour. It's already ten o'clock in the evening.

As far as I remember, after Csille speaks with her father, she heads straight to her room to sleep. Who could be knocking on Csille's door at night?

Mother? Perhaps it's Mother.

I lazily get up from lying on the bed and walk towards the door. It would be better if there were a peephole so I could see who's outside.

I cautiously open my door, leaving a small gap, and position my foot behind the door so the person outside couldn't enter my room.

Given Prince Fraser's habit of barging into my room, I'm a bit on edge. I hope it's not him this time.

Things didn't go according expectation, when I spotted Prince Fraser outside my room.

"Hey, can we talk?" he asked.

I internally sighed, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. But, considering his status, I couldn't do that.

What does Prince Fraser want now?

I sighed and glanced at the clock. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but it's already ten o'clock in the evening. I'm quite sleepy. Can we continue our conversation tomorrow?"

Prince Fraser looked at me and sighed. "It won't take long. Can we please talk now?"

Faking a yawn, I replied, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I'm really feeling sleepy already. Let's discuss this tomorrow. I'll be heading to bed now. Good night, Prince Fraser."

   I attempted to close the door, but Prince Fraser used his hand to push it open. "Are you upset with me, Csille? Is it because of what happened this morning?"

I looked at him and sighed. "I'm not upset. What reason do I have to be upset with you? Good night, Your Highness."

   Prince Fraser was about to reply, but I had already closed the door. I could hear him talking outside yet I ignore him.

After a minute, I heard footsteps. He's gone.

I'm not actually upset with him. Maybe Csille is, but I'm not. It's just that I'm too exhausted, and I don't have the energy to deal with him tonight.

Not today, Prince Fraser. Not today.