The courting trap

Crushed Ego

My dress drags behind me as I enter the dining room. This morning we're having breakfast together with Nicholas and his family. The long oak table is filled to the brim, any breakfast imaginable is placed on it like an art piece.

A fresh cup of tea is already awaiting on me.

The servants and butler stop and their tracks and bow for me. I smile politely as I nod my head, and sit down while they pull my chair back for me. "Good morning everyone." I speak up.

"Good morning." They say in sink.

When I look to my right I realise I'm sitting next to the devil himself, Nicholas.

Our parents must have arranged this, like we'll talk to each other in this setting. Or any setting really.

He's staring straight forward, in the uninterested way he always does.

"Nicholas," I tried my hardest not to spit his name. "can you hand me the grapes...please?"

"Don't you have servants for that?" He hissed without even batting an eye.

Mrs Taylor goes to grab them and I stop her by raising my hand. "You don't have to do that Mrs Taylor."

I push myself up, the chair scrapping loudly across the floor, I lean over the table to grab them myself, making sure to almost hit his face with my arm when doing so.

He follows me with his eyes when I sit down. I prop a grape between my lips, his gaze goes towards my mouth. I suck the grape in and aggressively bite down with a smile full of not-so-compressed hate.

I turn my head to my mother and feel his eyes still burning in the side of my head, "So mother, any plans today?"

I guess the prince didn't really like my act from earlier. He's been a bitch all day long- well he has been as long as I've known him, but he reached his peak.

We again we're forced to spend time together, this time while playing tennis.

Great.

The best part of it all is, he's actually good at it. Another opportunity missed to crush that big fat ego of his.

"And..." he drags, "there goes another one." He says oh-so-proudly when the opponent fails to hit the ball.

We have two teams, team one: Mother, Father and Mr Griffin and team two: Nicholas, Estelle and me.
Mother and Estelle are the substitutes (which is just an excuse not to play really).

Can you guess I didn't choose one third of my team?

"Your turn to serve the ball Vic." Estelle smiles, she's the only one that has a nickname for me.

"Don't mess it up." He spits with his stupid british accent.

I know I am British as well, but I sure hope I don't sound like that. So excruciatingly posh. He sounds like he's mocking himself.

Talking so slowly and so boring, he could easily talk me to sleep, but then I'd wake up and realise I'm living the nightmare, listening to him talk.

I hit the ball with the flat-looking frying pan, just like I watched them do, but it misses the ball by just an inch. What am I doing wrong?

"For christ sakes." He mumbles.

You know what? Maybe I can make this game insufferable for him.