The Royal Family, Her Royal Highness, I could go on, but really who could be bothered?
Sure we were all happy for them but personally I would hate to be them. The cameras, the photos, the public appearances, I mean really, can you be bothered? By the way things seemed, it appeared you had to be beautiful even when you slept and I knew for a fact, when I slept, even giants would be ashamed.
Wouldn't you hate having your whole life planned out from even before you were born, from your name to your school to who you would potentially marry? I mean imagined asking your parents "Mummy how was I born?" and instead of saying, oh yes honey, you were made with love, the answer was.
We conceived you so the future heir had someone to marry. To breed you like a race horse.
Yea apparently no one else thinks like me, and the rest of the country had awaited the grand arrival of the baby centuries ago and it still happens, which was stupid. It was a baby, being pushed out of a vagina, I was trying really hard to look at the more joyful aspects right now.
I was probably not even born when the most recent of prince's was given birth to, now aged twenty—six and dashing, or so they say, he was a good catch. What was he a fish?
Well thankfully, I hated seafood.
The saying downright was stupid, especially because no one had that chance to "catch" him, and the reason why was pretty simple. Just like his name, school, and what clothes he was going to wear, his wife or future wife I must say, was planned from the day his father's sperm met his mother's egg.
Which I found quite...disturbing.
And you would expect a woman brought with the utmost manners and elegance, the perfect queen to be, with knowledge like an owl, beauty like a goddess and the stealth of a snake.
Yeah no.
Because the honour went to the girl in the peach gown in front of me, and she had nothing of that, nothing at all, well maybe some manners in public since her ands were neatly folded in her lap.
Catherina Souvelietta Mary Jones, a girl who you must called by all her names to gather her royal stuck arse's attention.
But for me, it was Miss Jones as I was, drum roll for a commoner, her bodyguard. That and I really could not be wasting my valuable breathe just to tell her, her car was here. I had more important things to do, like making sure she didn't get killed.
Even thought I wanted to kill her myself in the past three months I had started to guard her.
There were numerous times I had scoffed when I had found out that she was born just for the heir, she was created for the heir, she had no other purpose but to marry and breed for the heir.
Really?
Wasn't that making her more of an object than a human?
It was even worse that she was brought up in near isolation, no contact with the prince so when they met, it was like love at first sight.
Except, this was the 21st century and what are really the chances a modern guy would fall head over heels for the peach marshmallow in front of me?
Someone gag me.
Especially since I was pretty sure I was meant to be promoted after my last mission, not be demoted to being just a bodyguard. I was much, much more than that. No instead I was set working for a spoiled princess who made me polish her shoes with a toothbrush.
I would rather me fired than serving this punishment.
And these are the times I hated my job, whilst everyone else aged twenty—four like my beauti—average self was at college and finishing of their degree, I was far from it. Learning from books myself in my room and private lessons at a younger age was how I learned.
And rather than dreaming about mid pies and rainbow pooping unicorns like other ten years old's, I was running a dangerous training course and shooting apples upside down instead of running about cooties from guys.
Whilst it was pretty cool then, I felt like part of my life was sucked away from me.
Since ten when I should be eating rainbow cookies and dirt, not learning how to hold a gun.
"Miss Jones," said my co—worker Alex , cough coworker not cough, as he spoke to her, probably saying his royal highness the fish catch was close by.
My peach marshmallow turned her head saying something before flicking her hair over her shoulder, what happened to the bun she had not ten minutes ago? I could see her make—up artist standing at the end of the room, a small mirror in one hand and a brush in the other.
What did that brush even do? Brush dirt of her? Because they missed a few spots.
I looked at the door, where was he? I looked at Catherina, a small smile on her face, probably excited to meet the love of her life.
It seemed pretty weird that she hadn't seen him all her life, they were really into this whole "love at first sight" thing, like they still believed in fairy tales. Maybe if they stepped out into the real world, they'll realise things like that just happened in stories.
Whilst every other reporter in here started to stand, getting excited for the arrival, I was far from it.
Maybe he had trout feet, I smirked and let out half a laugh immediately silencing when Alex saw me. I was just thinking, I mean he was a catch, like a fish, a trout fish. I stopped another snicker.Well I damn hoped so, before I got stuck on this job. I spent the last one or two months with this little spoiled brat, you loose count of days when you're with her, and I hated it. I feel sorry for trout feet fish face.
God where was this prince?
The quicker I could hook them together, the quicker I could leave them to the royal palace guards and get on with another mission and not be a damn bodyguard.
I mean the job was really boring.
First of all, standing here for five hours waiting and keeping guard, was tiring. I didn't even get to go to the toilet! I had to wait till they were all inside and seated before I could pee. And when nature calls, it damn calls.
Secondly, you try spending a minute with Catherina, she will either bore you, or annoy you with her fake perfect attitude, or turn you into a murderer with her spoiled brat private talk. Shoes must be polished, even the heel which makes no sense since the heel is touching the dirty ground she rested her feet upon.
Thirdly, repeat secondly infinitely.
Get my gist bro?
The sound of a car, or ten, made me stand taller and keep my eyesight focused the ground while I felt Alex stand up straighter next to me. Thank god I had swapped positions with me, if I had to stand next to her any more I would murder her myself. That was probably why they gave me a rifle.
