Jan 3:
"Darling sister, even Cinderella didn't take as long as you are doing right now to pack." William, my annoying older brother, said as he leaned against the doorframe, watching me hurriedly stuff clothes and shoes into my luggage. "Dear brother, aren't you supposed to be packing your things as well?" I smiled at him. William was gifted with a charming face, said to be sculpted by Greek Gods and kissed by angels. His charming face is matched by a smooth and quick tongue, and even quicker wits. He's the heir to our father's throne, and even I can see how he matches the role perfectly, as much as I would hate to admit it.
"Sister, unlike you, I have lesser things to pack, not having to bring my 13 pairs of shoes, 46 lengthy ballgowns and 5 hairbrushes." He grinned at me, and if I were any other girl, I would have swooned. But no, I am his younger sisters, and younger sisters never find older brothers attractive. Instead, I smile coyly and flutter my lashes at him. "Silly me, I meant to ask if you were going to be packed inside your luggage alongside your things. I could not stand the thought of a 13 hour flight sitting beside you with a crowd of hungry girls eyeing you. Oh no, I just couldn't." I end with a dramatic flair. Mother always said the more dramatic, the better. William and I were homeschooled since young, so this was going to be a totally new experience.
William pouted, his full lips exaggerated by it. "Oh Ella, you wound me so. But let's save this for another day, and not keep Father waiting." He spun on his heel and left me there to catch up with him.
At the airport, Mother tearfully hugged us as we prepared to board the plane. She waved goodbye as we waved back at her through the windows of the plane. Father had to stay back in the palace to ensure the country stays in order, with Mother there to accompany and help him. Father had already settled our accommodations and sent with us Mr Anderson, our butler, and Mrs Holland, our servant.
Mr Anderson had served our family for 40 years, with his duty being passed to him from his father and his grandfather before him, and soon from him to his son. Mrs Holland, however, had joined when I was first born, so William and I were very close to both of them. After all, she basically watched us grow up.
"Ella, just a word." William pulled me aside, his face deadly serious. "Hm? What's going on?" I asked curiously. William rarely ever looked serious. He told me once, he wanted to enjoy his youth without worry, unlike Father. He wanted to be carefree, with a smile forever etched on his face. "Serious matters can wait. After all, I'm only young once." It was on that day that I saw a new side of William White, the side which didn't want to end up like our father, with hairs greying before he even turned 50.
"You know we're both going to different schools, so I won't be there to look after you." He said. Where's he going with this? "I know that, big brother. But you know very well I can take care of myself." I smiled up at him. He sighed. "I know that, but just- give me a call if you need anyone to be corrected." He winks, and I laugh. As kids, we used to watch police dramas. In fact, we found it so interesting, sometimes we reenacted it, not without our own twist of course. I would be the poor girl whose wallet got stolen and pushed into mud, and William would be the extremely handsome, caring and helpful police officer, quote en quote. Now, we used it as an inside joke.
I seated myself comfortably in the cushions of the seat and stared out the window. This is going to be a long flight, I sighed. I closed my eyes and felt myself getting sleepy, my last thought being, I wonder what awaits me.
Olivia Walters
