I Am Elite (A Colors novel Book 1)

by Kimberly Westra

The pleasant woman sitting across from me, sipping her tea, surprises me. She is so plain to look at, with her colorless hair and usually neutral face. Seeing her at functions always gave me the feeling she was the most boring person on the planet. But sitting with her in her office, getting to work so close to her shows me a different side of her. She seems content, happy, in her own little hideout. She seems to lighten up when she is in her office. It’s nice to see her come alive and have some joy. Living with the King must make it an uncommon feeling for her. Even though I am here as a fraud. Something in me still wants to make her proud. I want to be a little part of her joy and happiness. She seems like the woman that deserves it. She seems like someone who has been heartbroken a few to many times.

  By the end of the week I am exhausted, but happy. Things actually went pretty well, and I made it through the whole week without any big issues. I wonder what the King thinks of this turn of events and I suppress a small smile. He must hate that it’s going so well.

  My meetings with Lady Debois have been quite interesting too. She seems to still be in shock that I am actually doing well at my job. I can almost hear her voice in my head ‘but you are only human, how can this be?’ I snicker a little. But now that I have proven myself quite valuable she seems to put more effort in me too. As if she wants to take some of the credit for my hard work. She does not see me as an incompetent fool anymore. Which is fine, it is nice to see that I have been growing on her. It is nice to prove her wrong. To show I am worth more than she initially thought of me. In a strange way I really wanted her to approve of me. It doesn't make sense. Needing the approval of this woman. Still, it helps to hear, once in a lifetime, that you did good enough. Especially since she does not know she is actually saying it to a human.

  I say goodbye absentmindedly to the others in the office while walking out, tablet still in my hand. I type a few last minute notes so that I won’t forget. My mind is fully focused on my screen when I crash into something, someone. My nose catches a hint of his cologne and I look up at his beautiful face.

  Oh crap.

  “I am so, so sorry, Your Royal Highness,” I quickly move into curtsy. My practice of the past weeks pays off, it is quite elegant.

  After our last embarrassing encounter I am even more desperate to flee the scene.

  But he reaches for me.

  As his hand touches my naked arm a shiver runs down my spine. Bolts of lightning shoot through me and it takes all my self-control to not grab his hand once he lets go. This is not normal.

  “It is alright, I have been wondering where you have been lately. You must be very busy taking over my mother's office the way you have?” he says.

  I flush, hopefully she did not tell him the exact way I took over. A girl standing on top of a chair might not be seen as proper etiquette. “Uhm,” I start, unsure of what to say, “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “I think that once you have walked into someone several times, it is more than ok to call them by their name, so please, call me Will,” he says with a small grin.

  My knees feel weak hearing his request. Swallowing no longer comes natural and I gasp for air. This has to stay professional. “Oh but I am not sure if that is the proper etiquette, Your Highness.” I say a little squeaky.

  “Well alright, you may call me Will when it is just the two of us then,” he says, “I promise I won’t tell. And I am the Prince, you have to follow my orders.”

  “Just, the two of us?” My voice wanting. Oh no.. did that just come out loud? I might die. This is not going according to plan. My plan of avoiding him, and not growing any more feelings has failed. I need to get out of here. My walls have to protect me. This is not a good thing.

  I turn and start moving. But a sound makes me stop. The sound catches my full attention. It paralyses me. He is laughing. Not a smile, but full out laughter. The sound is amazing, only making the situation worse. I glance up into his eyes. The redness of his irises popping out bright and alive. His whole face comes alive, making him even more handsome than before.

  “It’s easy, I will just call you Mera.” he says, waiting for a second to continue, “Mera, can your feet handle wearing shoes a little longer?”

  “Uh,” how is this of importance in this horribly embarrassing moment? “Yes?”

  He grabs my hand and puts it in the hook of his arm. His touch oddly calms my train of thought. He has quite the soothing effect even though my heart seems to be jumping up and down.

  He guides me down the steps to the first floor only to go down another flight of stairs.

  Where is he taking me this time?

  We walk past many sober and identical doors. This part of the palace has not been decorated grandly like the rest.

  How can he tell the difference in the doors? They are all exactly the same. How does he know where to go?

  “You ready?” He asks. He leans past me and pushes the door open.

  The room is unlike anything I have ever seen before. There are ten big fluffy red chairs with large arm rests, all angled to a large white wall. The wall is framed with red curtains. Not the fancy embroidery ones like in the library. These are red with a yellow trim and even though they are thick, they seem nothing in comparison to the ones upstairs. Still they look like they belong here. The room has posters on the wall of people and images unfamiliar to me. They definitely don’t have anything to do with the Royal family. The posters have words on them but before reading them a movement in the corner distracts me.

  A maid comes in and sets up a little stand. The smell of popcorn and sweets fill the room. She puts everything visibly on the stand. Soda’s, popcorn, candy. Once everything is in place she looks at Will. He gives her a small nod. She curtsies, turns and closes the door behind the curtain.

  We are all alone. I am utterly lost as to what this all is.

  “So, you told me how you enjoyed your grandmother's stories, right” he asks.

  I nod, “yes.”

  “My great-grandfather had this build in the basement. It is based on the concept the humans called ‘movie theaters’ from before the wars, have you ever heard of them?”

  “I think so?” I remember the humans used to make movies for entertainment. They would all come together and watch these movies, it was a big thing. Since the third world war there have not been any new movies, we have all been too busy rebuilding the world I guess.

  “Wait, you are saying you have movies?” My eyes almost pop out of the sockets when I realize what this place could mean.

  He gives me a warm smile. Then grabs my hand and leads me to the two chairs in the middle. I shiver by his touch. Before sitting down he speaks again, “Yes, we have saved some of the movies they used to show.”

  “What!?” I breathe.

  He places his fingers underneath my chin and pushes up so that his eyes can look into mine, then he whispers, “I found Cinderella.”

  I hug him before I can control myself. This is unbelievable. How did you find this? And why? It’s not like we have actually been hanging out. He does not owe me anything. This is just too kind.

  “Thank you Will, this is amazing.”

  He hugs me tightly, then leads me to my seat. It is all quite surreal. When I sit down he moves the food stand closer. As I watch him mix some different popcorn flavors together in a bag I notice a slight unevenness in his movements. Is he nervous? I am nervous. Hopefully he is nervous too. He turns and hands the bag of popcorn to me, places drinks in the holders by our chairs and takes a seat. He loosens his tie, unbuttons the top button of his shirt and kicks off his shoes. Seeing him get comfortable is enjoyable. He looks so, normal. It almost makes me forget he is a Prince. It almost makes me forget how impossible all of this is.

  I kick off my shoes too, knowing this time he will not comment. I fold my legs into the side of the chair. He watches me while I get comfy. There is a little hint of intrigue in his eyes. He moves in close. His face only inches away from mine. His arm moves behind me.

 
Heart, stop beating so fast!

  Moving his hand behind my head, he pulls back, with a large fluffy blanket in his hand.

  Just a blanket.

  He sits back into his seat and folds the blanket open. As he drapes it over the both of us I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand. I watch his fingers as he pads the blanket down, making sure we are both fully covered.

  “Ready?” he asks with a little grin.

  “Ready!”

  The whole room goes dark. He moves in a little closer. The white wall comes to life.

  Don’t blink. Don’t blink. I don’t want to miss anything.

  I cry most of the movie. Not out of sadness, but out of joy. It is just so beautiful. The way Cinderella found her strength, and the Prince, he saw her potential. Maybe a human like me could have a happy ending like her. His arm folds casually but well calculated around my shoulder. I let myself lean in, enjoying the moment. The happiness that rushes through me is so intense. I try to make it last, feeling every inch of it. The second I move, this will all be undone, it has to be a dream. This cannot be real.

  We sit in silence, not willing to move yet. The movie was beautiful. This moment is beautiful. A prince has his arm around me. And he is kind, and sweet. I remain still, afraid that when we move the spell will be broken. His hand softly, absentmindedly, moves up and down my arm, then suddenly he stops.

  “What is this?” he says, touching the still healing spot of my shot wound. The newly formed scar has become a part of me, making me forget it is there most of the time.

  “Uhm.” I pull out of his arm and turn to look at him a little better, “I was shot on selection day.”

  “What?!” He jumps up in horror, “What happened, are you ok?”

  “Oh yeah it is fine,” I say, touching his hand pulling him back down, “The rebels came to our town and I..”

  I am about to tell him the whole truth, but I cannot do that, so I pause before continuing. The way he looks at me. The way he has been treating me. He does not deserve lies. Yet, telling him the truth could have horrible consequences. There is no telling how he would handle the whole truth. There is just no way I can fully be honest. Staying close to the real story, but leaving some truths out seems to be my best option.

  “I was in the town center and my friend was so scared she could not move. So I tried to get her to run with me, but it made us too slow. The rebel shot me. We got out though, and the doctor stitched me up and got me back to my old self in no time.”

  His whole body shifts and his eyes change. He stands up and paces the wall where we had just witnessed such beautiful miracles. His eyes move, his mind races, his body tenses so intense I am afraid he might burst.

  My legs move to the floor, towards Will. I place my hand on his arm and turn him to face me.

  “Will..?”

  “I just, “ he looks at me. His face is filled with hurt, frustration and anger.

  His anger makes me take a large step backwards. How does one talk to a very angry, red, Crown Prince? He seems to look straight through me and it sends shivers of fear down my spine. Why is he so angry? There is something more going on. He is not just mad that I got shot. Have I upset him? Have I angered him somehow?

  “Maybe I should leave,” I murmur, while turning on the back of my feet.

  His hand closes around my arm. He does not pull hard, but he makes sure I cannot get away. He steps in front of me and his eyes change. They become soft again, less burning red.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, it is a…. touchy subject,” he says, “I don’t agree with my father’s methods and hearing this just confirms that things are a lot worse than he is willing to admit.”

  I look up, “What do the rebels want?”

  Chapter 8

  He leads me back to the chairs and points me to sit down. My legs pull up again and I twist my body so we are face to face. I wait for him to start.

  It’s strange, one minute I am in an embrace, with a prince, watching a movie. The next second reality hits us hard. Our safe little bubble disappears. There is so much out there, so much bigger than us.

  He runs his fingers through his hair. His eyes move over my face, reading me, making sure he can trust me with whatever comes next. I reach out for his hand and give it an encouraging squeeze. He has to understand that I can be trusted. The gesture helps, he takes in one last breath and begins.

  “When the first Elite came to earth, they had an agreement with the humans. The Elite needed a new home, and the humans needed help rebuilding.”

  I know this part of our history, so I nod, letting him know I understand.

  “For over a hundred years the two species lived together peacefully and helped each other grow and develop. Together they restored many of the wonderful things the humans had developed before. And the Elite added some of their wisdom to make it the developed world we live in now.”

  Another nod. I know the humans were more advanced in technology. That same technology broke down our world. We let it consume us. The humans lost their biggest strength, being human and taking care of each other. The Elite helped us go back to basic. They have more understanding of nature and strengths.

  “But, my father's father was not satisfied with all of this. He sought more power, more strength. He always saw the humans as foolish. So he started to broadcast the first anti-human propaganda, telling the world how little worth the humans have, compared to his beloved Elite,” anger rises in his voice.

  The fire in his voice is almost tangible. It is my first time seeing an Elite get so worked up over this. The first Elite who does not seem proud to be one. I raise my hand and grab his again, this time I don’t let go. If only I could tell him how much it means to me that he feels this way. If only I can show him my true nature. Knowing he feels this way gives me a little sliver of hope. Maybe we could work out if he knew the truth about me?

  “When I was a young boy I had already noticed that this was not true. So many wonderful humans work in the palace, and I had hoped my father would be a different king. I had hoped he would be true, honest and just. But he only has eyes for the Elite,” he sighs, “So for the last twenty or so years, more and more towns are starting to feel the effect of the propaganda. And over the last five years it has gotten even worse. My father tries to hide the intel from me, but he is not very good at it. I have read messages of towns going up in smoke due to fights between the Elite and the humans. I have lost track of how many lives have been lost and I have been racking my brain as to how to stop this madness.”

  I stare at the normally strong, confident boy. All there is left is heartache and sadness. He is truly moved by all of this and I can’t explain how happy it makes me to hear that our future king knows all of this is wrong. He will make a big difference as ruler. It is also terrifying though. I had no idea it truly was this bad. My home town in the far east has probably been isolated enough to not let the news get too close to us. But how much longer will they be safe there? The thought of riots, fighting and death hangs over us and we sit still for a few minutes, my hand still on his. His eyes focused on an empty wall, deep in thought.

  Leaning in a little closer I whisper, “Thank you for trusting me with this.” I swallow and focus. I cannot blow my cover, “I feel the same way. Humans and Elite both have strong features. We should appreciate them all.”

  His eyes find mine, he leans in closer. Our noses almost touch.

  “I hoped you were different from the rest, now I know for sure,” he says, twisting his fingers with mine.

  He then closes the distance and a small kiss brushes my lips. He pulls away all too soon. The tiny touch lingers between us.

  I don’t dare to move. How do you kiss a prince? Is there any etiquette? Do I curtsy? Do I lean back in? Oh I want to lean back in so bad. It is almost funny. Standing so close to Will, and I am thinking of etiquette.

  That is pathetic Mera, just plain pathetic.

  I look up
at his face and he is intensely looking back at me. Is he overthinking this too? His eyes try to read me. A cautious confidence creeps into his face as he looks at me. He leans in one more time, this time placing a kiss on my cheek, “come, my lady, it is late and you should get some well-deserved rest.”

  If only we could stay in our little bubble a little longer. If only we could just stay here, in each other’s embrace, his lips on mine. If only I could tell him the truth about me.

  But none of this can happen. We should not continue meeting up. This can only end badly. This thing between us is an explosion waiting to happen. It will never turn out well.

  Reluctantly I grab my dreadful shoes and stand up straight. I should sleep. And forget about tonight.

  He stands next to me, arm outstretched, unaware of the storm raging through me. I place my hand in the hook of his arm. Always the gentleman.

  I turn around to look at the movie theatre one last time. This was a strange evening, filled with many emotions. An evening I should forget all about, yet I am grateful it happened.

  We walk in silence until we reach my door. Both still analyzing the previous events.

  “Goodnight Mera,”

  “Goodnight, Your Royal.. ehh.. Will.” I am an idiot.

  He only smiles, brushes his lips on my cheek once more and walks away leaving me standing there staring at his perfect silhouette. My heart is so screwed.

  A day at the stables is just what I need. Shanna loves riding too and the weather is just right today. Going riding will be the perfect distraction for my confused heart.

  I was up almost all night, wanting to relive the smallest of kisses. A hint of a kiss with more impact than Aran ever made me feel. But as the scene replayed itself over and over again, I told myself to get over it. That is the only option. He is a prince and I am a small human, not worthy of his time. That said, the feelings that bubbled up were so intense. So true and so present. For a moment I allow the thought about the possibility linger quietly in my head.

  It’s no big deal. I cannot let my heart get more affected than it already has. I have no feelings for this man. None at all.