“I have to say, I’m a bit annoyed that we can’t spend Valentine’s Day together,” Ben says as we wander aimlessly through the corridors of his palace. It’s the last day I’ll be here. I’m leaving tonight.
“I know, but we can still celebrate today I guess… I never really liked Valentine’s Day anyways,” I shrug. “It’s just something I can’t understand. Why have a day to show someone you love them? Why does this holiday even have to exist?”
“Well when you put it that way,” he chuckles, “I suppose it seems a little stupid… but then I wouldn’t have a reason to give you presents.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Presents as in plural? Ben, it’s only Valentine’s Day.”
He squeezes my hand, “Watch it, or I’ll buy you presents on non-holidays, too.”
I laugh quietly. He knows how much I hate presents, especially when I have nothing to give back in return. But, he’s one of those people that won’t take no thank you for an answer.
A nice silence settles upon us as we stroll through one of the main connecting hallways. I can tell we’re headed to the courtyard in the middle of the square-shaped palace just by the paths he’s taking.
Every once in a while a maid or butler passes us, slowing down respectively and bowing or curtsying. But, other than that no one is here to disturb us. It’s nice for a change, being able to hold his hand without worrying about a camera snapping the shot and blasting it all over the world—not that it’s a bad thing but it’s quite annoying after a while. We hold hands all the time now. You’d think they’d have gotten enough pictures by now.
“Why are we going out here?” I ask, hugging his sweater—the new one that I stole from him—closer.
He only answers, “You’ll see.”
I give him a look as we step out into the cold February air. It’s mild in terms of a Vladesvyan/Chirnovian winter day but still colder than back home.
“I wanted to give you your present before you left.”
When I look up at him, I see he’s staring off into the distance. My eyes trace to where he’s looking and I almost have a heart attack.
There’s a dog. No, two dogs. And they’re running straight for us.
They can’t be more than one year old. I recognize they’re Slavic Dalmations by their mixed brown and black spots and slim frames. I can’t help but melt when they pounce on us, licking at our jeans and pawing at our legs.
“Awwwwwwww,” I squeak like the girl I am.
“That one is yours; Rosie here is mine.” He kneels down, the dog responding happily by licking his face.
“What?” I ask, almost getting knocked over by the puppy in the process.
“His name is Sampson. He’s yours; my Valentine’s Day present,” he laughs as his puppy jumps into his lap.
I almost—no, I do—squeal like an eight year old. “Really?!”
I’ve always wanted a dog but times were already tough for mom and dad during my childhood so we didn’t risk it.
We collapse into a heap of licks, laughs and yelping. He replies, “Of course. I mean, I figured that you’d want some quiet company whenever I’m away… someday…”
I sit up on the walkway, noticing the dog walking butler standing nearby. He—like all the others—acts like he’s not paying attention.
There’s an awkward silence. I look over at him. He’s staring at me in that way that he always does; with those eyes that make me melt. There’s that small smile on his face; like the one that he does when he’s thinking.
YOU ARE READING
Suddenly Princess
Teen FictionAnnaMaria Romanoff grows up with an adoptive family, thinking that her biological parents were working class citizens of the country of Chirnova, who died tragically in a car crash when she was just a year old. It's her senior year in high school no...
