Chapter 10 A Malfunctioning Prince
A Malfunctioning Prince
“He flirted with me.”
There was a brief pause. Then, Harper burst into laughter so loud that Emilia had to pull the phone away from her ear.
Emilia gritted her teeth, gripping her phone tighter. “I’m serious,” she snapped, kicking aside a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor. “It was so weird. Like someone upgraded his operating software overnight.”
Harper, still wheezing, barely managed to respond. “Oh my God. Are you telling me the brooding, emotionally repressed Prince of Caledonia tried to be charming?”
“Yes!” Emilia exclaimed, throwing her free hand up.
Harper lost it again, her laughter echoing through the speaker.
Emilia pushed off her couch, pacing across her small living room. “It was unnatural. Like a bad personality transplant.”
“Like he was possessed,” Harper suggested between snorts. “You’re sure he wasn’t replaced by an AI prototype?”
“That would actually explain a lot,” Emilia replied, stopping to glance at the stack of research materials on her coffee table.
“Did he glitch? Freeze mid-sentence?” Harper pressed.
“No, but he smiled.”
Harper gasped dramatically. “No.”
“Yes.” Emilia nodded, even though Harper couldn’t see her.
Harper lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, was it… convincing?”
Emilia stopped pacing, her fingers toying with the frayed edge of her sweater. “…That’s not the point.”
Harper howled with renewed delight.
“Okay, okay,” Harper said, calming down slightly. “But let’s think about this logically.”
“Logically?” Emilia scoffed, resuming her circuit around the coffee table. “There’s nothing logical about it! He clearly thinks he can just charm me into doing his bidding, as if I’m one of the interns desperate for his royal approval. It’s insulting.”
Harper made a sound that was half-snort, half-chuckle. “Right, and this definitely isn’t bothering you because…?”
Emilia whipped around as if Harper could see her. “Oh my God, do not say it.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Harper replied, innocence dripping from every syllable.
“You implied.”
Harper’s voice took on a smug tone. “You seem very worked up over this, Emmy.”
“I am worked up because it’s patronizing,” Emilia argued, dropping onto the edge of her sofa with enough force to make the springs creak.
“He’s an entitled prince who thinks his will is law.
What, he insults me one day and then suddenly expects me to swoon the next because he graciously decided to be pleasant? Absolutely not.”
Harper sighed dramatically. Emilia could picture her friend tapping her manicured nails against her phone case. “So… Do we think this is a strategic maneuver? Or is the prince, perhaps, going through a crisis?”
Emilia paused, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “…Crisis?”
Harper’s grin was audible. “I mean, you’re the first woman to genuinely challenge him. Maybe he’s spiraling.”
Emilia rubbed her temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “More like malfunctioning.”
Harper laughed. “I love that for him.”
Emilia groaned, letting her head fall back against the sofa cushions. “When are you coming home? I need to rant about this in person.”
“Meeting’s wrapping up in about twenty minutes,” Harper replied. “I’ll pick up takeout on the way. This prince saga definitely calls for comfort food.”
“Perfect,” Emilia replied. “I’ll be here, contemplating my professional demise.”
“Drama queen,” Harper teased. “See you soon.”
Emilia ended the call and tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her. Tomorrow’s meeting at the archives suddenly seemed very far away.