Emma

''I just think that it's not okay,'' I mutter.

''What's not okay about learning ethics and ways of royalties? You're included,'' He replies, looking at himself in the mirror as he fixes his hair; wanting to look presentably good for today.

Our honeymoon ended sooner than we thought it would be. Well, if a week of being in Greece is considered short—then, I don't know how long I deserve to consider it long enough.

We spent the whole week being in each other's arms, moulding and suffocating ourselves with embraces. It's just too difficult for us to stay away because we're new to all of this; the whole I want you thing.

As for today, he will be attending an event.

Which he highly and much likely disagree. He wants to stay home, not ever leaving for the next few days because he wants to spend time with me. That's what he said but unfortunately, he has to obey Genevieve.

''I don't know,'' I breathe out.

As I lay my back onto the bed, I start to let myself set free by staring onto the ceiling—easing my own mind. There's just a lot going on right now; in different ways and it's not easy for me either. For instance, the thing with Emery and I, we're slowly yet fast moving.

From our sudden marriage to our honeymoon, we end up falling for each other very hard and fast. It's like we are not pushing the thought of being in love with one another, it's as if we want this. The both of us.

To my surprise, I find Emery hovering on top of me, both of his hands pressing onto the bed; supporting his own weight. Our eyes meet in an instant, leaving us stare deeply into one another's soul.

I manage to take my time by eyeing him from up to toe without hiding it away from him because he seems to be enjoying my stare. All of a sudden, I find his lips curving up into a smile; swooning me mentally.

''Why does it bother you so much?''

''I'm not fit for royalty, Emery. You and I both know how I enjoy the freedom I once had. I can't just go and learn your ways because it doesn't feel right,'' I say.

He frowns, ''Why do you think of it that way? You are and always be fitted for royalty, Emma. Trust me, you don't need to be born into royalty or be related to any royalties in the world—you are already royalty,''

''Marrying you has it perks,'' I chuckle.

''Exactly,'' He kisses onto my cheek.

''So, don't bring yourself down. Go to the classes that my mother has arranged for you, learn those damn lessons and get it over with. It's not hard,'' He mutters as he uses his left hand to caress the side of my face.

''Easy for you to say, sweetheart. You learned them when you were a kid and you've mastered it now,'' I reply before pushing him slowly, causing him to move down from the bed and stand near the edge.

I stand up, inches apart from him.

''Believe me. I spent most of my time skipping those classes and it took me longer to learn,'' He chuckles, ''I hate them—they bore me to death.'' Then, he cups onto my face; looking down and directly into my eyes.

We stay quiet for a few seconds with us only staring into each other's eyes; finding it very soothing. It's kind of a normal thing for us to just stare into one another's eyes because it bring us something.

''You used to hate them. I hate them now,'' I pout.

He smiles, ''Don't give me that look—you're making me give in to what you're asking for.'' The way his thumbs are rubbing onto my cheeks are calming me down the slightest; deep down begging him to stay.

''That's good. I should do it more often,'' I wink.

Before he can lean in, someone interrupts us.

We both turn to look at the door, surprised.

''I apologise, Your Highnesses. The queen would want you to proceed to your class,'' One of the servants say, looking at my face before bowing and exiting.

Emery turns to look back at me; his lips curving up into a small smile—caressing the side of my face. I, on the other hand, continue to pout in disagreement. ''Come on, stop procrastinating. Okay?'' He asks.

Groaning, I begin to make my way out. All of a sudden, I feel him slapping my ass which causes me to turn around—seeing that he has a smirk on his beautiful face; leaving me rolling my eyes.

''I bet you learned that too,'' I mutter as he chuckles.

Once I've exited the hallway, I walk straight ahead towards the assigned room. Just seconds before I enter, I let out a deep sigh; wanting to make sure that I'll make it out alive and that it will be alright.

I push the door open, seeing an unknown woman.

Standing next to Evelyn, who is on her phone.

''Your Highness,'' She starts to speak as I make my way in—slowly eyeing the whole room before meeting her eyes; somehow, she seems strict. Rip self.

The chandelier hangs proudly onto the ceiling, almost taking my breath away at the appearance of the room

The chandelier hangs proudly onto the ceiling, almost taking my breath away at the appearance of the room. Yet, I can't really tell; the whole place is huge and just nicely decorated—especially this room.

The paintings on the wall, they are fascinating.

''I'm sorry for being late,'' I smile. The woman nods her head, understanding as she eyes my features. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion when she starts to circle around me—eyeing every inch of my body.

''There are certain rules that has been set when you're attending my classes. First of all, punctuality.'' She continues, ''When you're late, instead of saying I'm sorry, you should apologies properly.'' She stops.

Apologise properly? Is sorry not proper enough?

''Sorry seems a little bit casual for a royalty. The next thing that you should know, I'm allowed to not bow or treat you as a royalty—during my classes,'' She clears her throat, stopping right in front of me.

''Understood, Your Highness?'' She fakes a smile.

''Princess?'' She asks, once she finds me standing still at my spot without uttering a single word for the past few seconds—waking me up from my shocking trance.

''Uh, yes. Of course,'' I nod my head.

''Good, let's begin.'' She gestures for me to follow.

Hours and hours have passed—the only thing that I've managed to get right is none. Too slow, she said. Too fast, she said. Too formal, she said. Too common, she said. Too materialistic, she said. Then, how?

''It has been hours and you've got nothing right!'' She sighs deeply before turning to look at Evelyn who is currently massaging her temples; not uttering a single word as she sits quietly for the past hour.

''It's just that—'' I speak but she cuts me to it.

''As a princess, you should know better to not speak when you're at fault. No interrupting. When will you understand that this is not the same as how you used to act? This is not a commoner lesson,'' She mutters.

''I wasn't interrupting—'' She cuts me again.

''Talking back is not allowed!'' She says, frustratedly.

Evelyn stands up, looking at both of us while my eyes widen at her sudden raise of voice but I keep quiet; realising that I've been too comfortable that I've almost forgotten who I used to be—a commoner.

''I think it's enough for today,'' Evelyn speaks.

Without uttering a single word, I immediately make my way out of the room; slamming the door purposely before sighing deeply—a little bit shocked to fail at almost everything she taught me. What is it?

What is it that I've not gotten right?

Everything.

I ignore the glances from the servants as I make my way back to my bedroom—opening the door roughly, surprising Emery who is currently sitting on one of the armchair, looking down at his laptop.

After glancing up at him, I slam the door shut.

Then, I make my way towards the bathroom; locking it as I sit onto the floor—slightly stressed out. Within seconds, I find someone knocking onto the door.

''Emma, you okay?'' Emery asks from the other side.

''No,'' I mutter under my breath. With another sigh, I stand up to open the door—seeing that he is still standing there; looking down at my face, trying to read me in order to find out what's wrong.

Without uttering a single word, he pulls me for a hug. The way his arms are around my body; wrapping me tightly that it soothes me down slightly. It makes me calm down just by feeling the warmth of his body.

Minutes passed but we just stay still.

''Want to tell me what happened?'' He whispers.

I pull away but both of his hands are never leaving my body, only moving down to my waist. ''You see, I'm probably the most horrible person that she has ever taught—I did nothing right!'' I furrow my eyebrows.

''A—and she kept on pressuring me,'' I add.

''Emma, look at me.'' He pulls my chin up slowly.

Our eyes meet; making me see the warmness of his brown eyes—missed the way they appeared when we were in Greece. He was too beautiful but then again, he is always beautiful. No matter where or how.

''You're the princess of England. Yes, you were not born royalty but you married into royalty; meaning that you still have the right as any other princesses. She treated you wrong? Then, show her who's boss. You are, not her or anyone else. You're the future queen of England—you're a powerful woman,'' He smiles as he caresses the side of my face.

''But her rules—'' I groan but he cuts me.

''Fuck her rules. Where's my Emma? She's not like this. The Emma I knew would not give in because she is a strong and independent young woman.'' He adds, making me smile up at him; liking his compliments.

My Emma. Am I really his Emma?

''Your Emma, huh?'' I look straight into his eyes.

He starts to roll his eyes, ''That's the only part that you got? Out of it all, you got that part?'' Then, we both start to chuckle—for no reason.

''So, for your next class, you're going to break the rules. You're your own queen and she's not going to take that way from you. Fuck it, you know?'' He says.

''Royalties shouldn't swear,'' I mutter as I close the distance between us; realising that he does not move at all—only letting me come closer.

''Like I said, fuck it.'' He leans in.

''Been waiting all day for you, love.''

''Yeah?'' I purposely lean back, unbuttoning his shirt as he eyes my every action; smiling seductively.

''Mm, been thinking about your lips. Your beautiful lips on mine—my hands all over your sexy body while you are beneath me,'' He runs his hands on my butt, ''The way you would moan my name, god.'' He groans as I immediately pull him by the neck, realising that we've been heading towards our bed.

We both fall onto the bed with him hovering.

Within seconds, we're already proceeding to our love making session—without a single care in the world. Our bodies against one another, the emotions and satisfaction continuously exploding and raging. It's like being the firework; it's always like that with him.

So, what are we waiting for?