HIS PRINCESS

CHAPTER 10

He didn’t even look at her.

Then, without warning, his legs buckled, and he dropped to one knee, his hand catching the bench behind him.

Ariana rushed over. “Hey, hey—slow down—just sit, okay? Sit down.”

She helped him steady himself onto the bench. He didn’t fight her, but he wasn’t really there either. His eyes were far away, like he was watching something only he could see.

He mumbled a few broken words under his breath. She couldn’t make them out. His forehead was damp. There was a small cut on his hand, just under a loose hospital band.

She glanced at the tag. No name. No phone number. Just the word private written where the guardian’s name should’ve been.

Whoever he was, he’d just left the hospital. Maybe without being thoroughly checked or discharged.

Ariana looked up and down the still empty street.

She pulled out her phone and dialed emergency services.

While they waited, she sat beside him quietly without touching him. Just staying close in case he slipped again.

He stayed quiet. His head leaned back. He never asked who she was. Never even looked at her.

When the ambulance arrived, one of the nurses stepped out of the van—and paused when she saw him. There was a flicker of recognition in her face, but she didn’t say a word.

“Did he say or do anything to you?” a paramedic asked Ariana.

“No,” she said. “He didn’t even know I was here.”

“Thanks for staying with him,” the nurse said.

Ariana nodded.

Then she turned and walked away before they could ask for her name.

She didn’t know who he was.

And she didn’t care.

---

The first light of dawn painted the villa's windows pale gray when Kiara slipped out of bed. She dressed quickly in yesterday's clothes, the fabric stiff from dried sweat. The marble floor chilled her bare feet as she crept to the bedroom door.

She found the housekeeper in the kitchen, already preparing breakfast. The woman looked up, her hands dusted with flour.

"Miss Ross? You're awake early."

Kiara forced a yawn. "I have a family emergency."

The housekeeper wiped her hands on her apron. "Mr. Harris didn't mention—"

"It just happened." Kiara's voice cracked slightly. "Please, I need to go now."

The housekeeper studied her for a long moment before nodding. She picked up a wall phone and pressed a button. "Carl, bring the car around front. Miss Ross needs a ride."

Twenty minutes later, Kiara sat on a nearly empty train, her backpack clutched to her chest. The sunrise painted the passing suburbs in orange light. She checked her phone—no messages from Ariana, no missed calls from the school.

The train rattled over the tracks, the rhythm steady and monotonous. Kiara leaned her head against the cool window.

By the time the train pulled into the station near her school, the morning commuters had begun boarding. Kiara merged with a group of uniformed students, her posture slumping to match theirs.

The school gates loomed ahead. Security barely glanced at her ID as she passed through. The first bell would ring in seventeen minutes. Just enough time to change uniforms before class.

Her dorm room was empty when she entered—Viola was already at the dinning hall for breakfast. Kiara dropped her bag and turned on the shower. The hot water scalded her skin, but she didn't adjust the temperature.

The shower water ran cold by the time Kiara turned it off. She dressed quickly in her school uniform—white blouse, navy skirt, the Harris Talent Scholar crest stitched neatly on the pocket.

Viola walked in as Kiara was tying her shoes. "You weren't at breakfast."

Viola Daniels looked like rebellion dressed in beauty. She wore baggy dark-brown jeans tucked into heavy leather boots, a white crop top layered under a loud, oversized bomber jacket with flames printed across the sleeves. A silver chain hung loosely around her neck, clinking softly as she shifted.

Her hair was braided down her back, the ends dipped in streaks of indigo, teal, and silver. It shouldn’t have worked—but on her, it did. A pair of mismatched earrings dangled at her ears, one a small hoop, the other a dangling dice. Her skin was golden and clear, her cheekbones sharp, and her lashes curled naturally—but still outshined everyone.

Beautiful, but not in a fragile way. She could simply be described as a gorgeous chaos.

Kiara kept her eyes on her laces. "Just got back."

Viola dropped her backpack on the bed. The zipper rattled as she dug out a textbook. "Everything okay?"

"No." Kiara stood and grabbed her own books. "But it will be."

The warning bell rang. They walked to class in silence, their shoes clicking in unison on the polished floors. Students hurried past them, laughter echoing through the halls.

Viola cleared her throat. "You going to tell me what happened?"

Kiara adjusted her grip on her books. "Not here."

They took their usual seats in the back of the classroom. The teacher began roll call. Kiara stared out the window at the oak tree swaying in the morning breeze. Its leaves were just beginning to turn gold at the edges.

First period passed. Then second.

At lunch, they claimed their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. Viola unwrapped her sandwich. "So?"

Kiara stirred her soup. "I went to see Sebastian Harris."

They sat at their usual corner table in the cafeteria, plastic trays holding untouched food. Viola leaned forward, keeping her voice low.

"Did he...you know...try anything last night?"

Kiara stirred her soup absently. "No. He left me alone in the bedroom. Didn't even touch me."

Viola's eyebrows rose. "That's not what I expected."

"Me neither." Kiara tore a piece of bread into small pieces. "Think he suspected something was off."

Viola tapped her fork against her tray. "President Harris isn't stupid. If he realizes you're not Ariana—"

Kiara shrugged. "I'll figure it out."

Viola opened her mouth to argue when a group of juniors walked by, their laughter drowning out further conversation. When they passed, Viola simply shook her head and stabbed at her salad.

Kiara checked the clock above the cafeteria doors. Five minutes left in lunch period. She forced down two bites of cold pasta before dumping her tray.

They walked to the chemistry laboratory in silence, their footsteps echoing in the nearly empty hallway. At the lab door, Viola finally spoke again.

"Just be careful."

Kiara adjusted her backpack strap. "I will."

The bell rang. They took their seats as the teacher began explaining the day's experiment. Kiara copied the instructions mechanically, her mind already working through next steps. The scent of ammonia from the front counter stung her nose slightly.

Viola passed her a beaker without looking up from her notes. Kiara took it muttering thanks.

--

The chemistry lab hummed with activity as students mixed solutions in their beakers. Kiara measured 50ml of hydrochloric acid, the liquid clear and odorless in the graduated cylinder. Across the table, Viola recorded measurements in neat columns.

The teacher walked by, inspecting their work. "Proper safety goggles, Miss Ross," he said, tapping his own. Kiara pulled hers up from around her neck.

When he moved on, Viola spoke without looking up. "Sebastian Harris will contact Ariana again."

Kiara added the acid to her beaker. The solution fizzed slightly. "Probably."

Viola adjusted her Bunsen burner flame. "What then?"

Kiara watched the reaction in her beaker, the liquid turning pale yellow. "We'll know when it happens."

A student at the next table dropped a test tube. Glass shattered on the tile floor. The teacher sighed and went to fetch a broom.

Viola lowered her voice further. "You can't keep pretending."

Kiara stirred her solution with a glass rod. The clinking sound blended with the general noise of the lab. "It won't last forever."

The bell rang. They turned off their burners and began cleaning up. Viola wiped down their station with a damp cloth while Kiara disposed of their chemical waste.

As they left the lab, Viola grabbed Kiara's elbow near the water fountain. "He's dangerous."

Kiara pulled her arm free gently. "So are we."

They split up for their next classes. Three more periods until the final bell. Kiara's history textbook weighed heavily in her arms as she walked to her next class. The faint smell of vinegar from the lab still clung to her sleeves.

The hallway was nearly empty as Kiara walked to her next class, the muffled sounds of lessons already in progress coming from behind closed doors. She rounded the corner and immediately tensed—Tyler Eduardo Jr. and his crew leaned against the water fountain, their polished shoes scuffing the tiles as they joked loudly.