Secretly Married to A Prince

Aynie

"And whenever the Prime Minister- Princess? PRINCESS AYNIE!" A very loud voice interrupted my beauty sleep. I opened one eye as and looked up at Madam Moiselle, giving her a tiny smile. You could clearly see anger on her face, since it turned beet red. And a red Madam Moiselle isn't the best sight. Children would think she's a mean old woman with her wrinkled forehead, light green orbs, hair tightly tied in a bun, and glasses so thick that a horse can't break it.

"Princess, have you been sleeping while I was talking? I taught you manners for godsake!" She said and I stopped myself from closing my eyes again. If I can't close my eyes, might as well close my ears.

"I'm so sorry madam. I didn't get enough sleep last night because of that book you let me read (partly true. I stared at it for an hour before I started to flip the cover)." I explained.

She took a deep breath, and closed the thick book she was holding. I forgot if she was teaching about the Royal family or geography.

"Very well then princess, that's all for today. Empress Alexandra asked me to end the class early due to a planned dinner with Princess Maurice and Princess Saphire." She said and I mentally yelped with happiness. Not because of the dinner, but because of the early dismissal. Besides, I haven't seen them in quite some time. Both of them are daughters of my husband's older cousin, King Geoff. Both are powerful royal families.

"Thanks Madam! See you tomorrow!" I said as I walk fast out of the door.

"Princess! No running on the corridor!" She said but as usual, I ignored her.

Oh. Where are my manners? I think I left them inside the room! Sorry about that. My real name's Briseis, but everyone here calls me Aynie (pronounced as Ay-nie not Ey-nie but whatever floats your boat), or Princess Aynie to be proper. Would you believe me if I tell you I'm a Princess? Well, believe it. I'm not a princess by blood, but because I married Prince Harry. And no I don't love him, I don't even like him in the first place. Our grandfathers made a stupid pact in high school that they would let their grandchildren marry. Ugh. I know. Totally Cliche. Just when you thought that arranged marriage doesn’t exist in the 21st century.

I'm half Filipina, half British. My dad's the British one. I was born in England, but I grew up in the Philippines, then I was shipped to Femme Kingdom. Awesome I know. I originally have black hair, but because I like to dye it a lot, so I have a unicorn hair now. I have brown orbs and fair skin. I'm actually dark-skinned but when we moved here 6 years ago, I eventually had fairer skin. Unfortunately for me, I don't speak English like the Brits. That is mainly the reason why I will narrate my story in a non-English way.

The Empress (the ruler of the Kingdom, assisted by the King & Queen) forced me to take princess lessons with Madam Moiselle. Grandmere (my husband's grandmother & Empress) is actually my real teacher, but she became so busy when the King got ill. Madam is a good teacher, but really boring.

About Harry, even though we live under the same roof, we don't speak to each other. I can't even stand him. He is handsome with a billion dollar dimple (talking about his net worth), but he's so arrogant! He's the complete opposite of our imaginary prince's. He's a womanizer and probably a sadist! I haven't seen him smile like he really meant it. A lot of girls like him, because of his looks, and the fact he's a prince, and he plays basketball, football, and chess. And maybe because the rumour that we have a room full of gold in the palace- which is not true.

We only talk whenever we're in front of Grandmere, and his parents. All those in charge of the Palace's publicity, tried to hide every woman that Harry has dated, even though nobody knew about us yet. But Harry, being a badass that he is, also did his best to counter attack the plans of the team. So Grandmere gave up.

They expect us to be "lovers" but we cleared it off and told them we are good friends. Basically, Harry and I got married when I was 14. Fourteen for heaven's sake! We had a little wedding when I was 14 but when I turned 18, we got married again but legally if you know what I mean. And when I turn 21 which is unfortunately and horribly 2 years from now, we will officially get married. I know- my life sucks. It's a wonder how they allow very young people to get married. But this was passed from generation to generation so this is like part of their tradition.

I should be going to parties with my friends, have a boyfriend, get decent grades. But here I am stuck with this dilemma. Nobody knew about it, not even the press. We kept it private not because they don't want the people to know, but because Harry insisted. He threatened to give up his crown if anyone would know about it. So we held a private wedding and only our very close friends and family who swore to secrecy were allowed to attend. Of course I invited my best friends for life and cousins at the same time, Anne and Grace along with Grace's now ex-boyfriend Michael. We were friends since High school and they said they had a blood pact so secure the secret. Kidding.

As of now, I'm a sophomore in Uni. Anne, Grace and I took the same course- Fashion Marketing. Since there's no How to Be a Princess 101, they let me take any course I want. I can't really be a princess if I know nothing. Harry and I agreed to NEVER talk in public, especially in our school. For me, I don't want haters. I don't want anybody to know that I am affiliated with him because gossip runs fast like light. And for him, he's way embarrassed to be seen with me because he doesn't want the girls to think he has ME as a girlfriend, even though he's always in the news and tabloids almost every week, with different women.

But sometimes I wonder why he doesn't want to be seen with me. It's more than okay with our folks, but why is he so embarrassed? Is it the fact that I'd rather wear gigantic hoodies and dorky glasses than tight dresses like all those girls he dated? I love making and learning about clothes, but I don't like wearing them. Weird. I know.

If that's the case why he's so embarrassed of me, that's totally fashion discrimination.