"What do you mean: remain under supervised conditions?" My fist hits the dining table a little harder than intended, rattling the silverware slightly. "It was just a sighting, Father! I am more than capable of defending myself adequately!"
Father shakes his head, taking a slow sip of his espresso. "Whether it is just a sighting or not, your safety is of paramount importance, son –"
"Oh, spare me! Your concern only extends as far as my position as the sole heir to the throne! Without me, you would be nothing!"
Father's gaze darkens, a tempest brewing in his eyes. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he retorts. "Casimir, I will not entertain further protest. You may be my son, but you are also one of my subjects bound to obey my commands. You shall remain in close quarters under security until I deem otherwise, and that is non-negotiable."
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
A knock on the door disrupts my fervent poetry-writing session.
"Yes, what is it?" I snap, irritation lacing my tone as Ben enters my room.
He stands before me with his arms crossed, weariness etched into his face from the long work hours. "I assume you've been briefed on the Emperor's new staff appointments, Your Highness?"
I bite back a retort, the memory of our recent disagreement still fresh. "All too well. The castle will soon be bursting at the seams with new faces."
Ben swallows uncomfortably. "Er-so, shall I send her in, Prince?"
"Her?" I raise an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Your assistant," Ben confirms, unrolling a scroll and scanning its contents before locating a name. "Adriana Avery."
Rising from my armchair, I stride over to Ben. "Assistant, you say? Assistant for what, exactly?"
"She has been appointed to aid you in your daily tasks, correspondence, and any other matters that require attention."
I ponder over this, my thoughts swirling with a mixture of curiosity and scepticism. An assistant was a novel addition to my routine, one that I had not previously entertained.
"Very well. Send her in." With a flick of my hand, I dismiss him.
He bows before turning on his heels and exiting the room.
Moments later, the door creaks open and a young woman steps inside. She holds herself with an air of confidence – something which is barely present in the castle's staff, especially amongst the women. Her dark hair frames her face which holds both discretion and reluctance, as if she has no desire to be here. Her mahogany-coloured eyes swiftly darted around the room, drinking in every detail from every nook and cranny, assessing for any possible danger. She exudes a hint of familiarity which I cannot place a finger open.
Interesting, this one. I can't help but scrutinize her, trying to gauge what type of person she is. It's clear Father hired a person capable of defending themselves and since she is bound to stick with me 24/7, defending me, too.
"Your Highness," She greets, her voice steady despite the weight of the title. Bold for a newcomer. "I'm here to assist you as per the Emperor's orders."
"Right," I cross my arms as I lean against the desk. "Let's get one thing clear, Miss Avery: I don't particularly enjoy being coddled. I'll need you to keep up."
She looks me right in the eyes the whole time she addresses me. "Believe me, Your Highness. I follow my job word for word and coddling the Crown Prince wasn't on the list, last time I bothered to check. My duty is to ensure that you are organized and up-to-date on your royal duties."
She's got quite the fiery spirit. How…peculiar. "Organized?" A smirk crosses my lips. "And what exactly does that entail?"
I can see the sheer struggle on her face to not roll her eyes at me. "Managing your schedule, handling correspondence, and –" She pauses, assessing me. "keeping an eye on anything that might disrupt your royal duties."
I raise an eyebrow. "So, a glorified babysitter, then?"
Her ears turn red from frustration and annoyance. "Babysitters are for petulant children, Your Highness. I doubt you consider yourself one, unless I'm mistaken."
A flicker of exasperation crosses over my face. Who the hell does she think she is to challenge my authority? I can feel my jaw clench as I absorb her words. Petulant? The very idea sends a wave of annoyance through me. I'm not some spoiled brat in need of supervision; I'm the Crown Prince, heir to the throne, of the Davarian Empire!
Just because Father fears for my position's safety, doesn't mean I need a shadow following me around. I'm a grown adult for goodness' sake; I can handle myself! The weight of the crown is heavy enough without someone else trying to carry it for me.
I could brush off her comment with a witty retort, but the heat in her voice catches me off guard. The fire in her is more intense than I expected, and it pisses me off even more.
"Don't mistake my forbearance for weakness." I reply, trying to keep my tone level, though I can feel my temper simmering right beneath the surface.
Her steely expression does not waver under my gaze – it's still a mix of determination and barely constrained defiance. It's infuriating.
And yet, a part of me wonders if this is exactly what I need. Someone who won't simply bow and scrape, who might even push back against my more unreasonable impulses. Perhaps…
I quickly dismiss that thought. I don't need an adversary in my own quarters; I need someone who will follow orders without question.
"Just remember," I say, forcing a smirk to mask my irritation, "I'm still the prince here. You may be my assistant, but I expect you to know your place."
She schools her expression her expression into one of neutrality as she hands me my schedule for the day before walking out. "I'm well aware, Prince."