iii. l a n a

                                    

                                          






C r o w n⠀P r i n c e⠀A b b a s⠀w a s⠀the best kept shame of Eclisa. He was the opposite of his father, never seeming to care about his country or the goings on inside it. Lana had been born and raised in the palace of Eclisa and she could count the times she had seen the prince on her fingers and didn't even have to count the times she had had a real conversation with him since she had never had one.
                          
She slowed down to a walk as she entered the palace through a servant's entrance. She then took a staircase three steps at a time as she made her way back to her room and the bath that awaited her.
                          
The prince was a sore subject around those in the army. He had been given the position of Colonel by his father to try and "make him into a real man, no one that limp can be a king," but it had back fired. He had never shown up for meetings, never took care of his men and finally the king took him out of the army just to stop the complaining about him. That had been when Lana was a Major so she had not had to deal with the young princeling.
                          
As Lana entered her room she knew something was off. The room was almost exactly as she had left it—closet still open, bed unmade—the servants that had been assigned to her room had learned not to mess with anything or clean anything unless asked to. The bathroom door was now open which was understandable as she knew that there was a now cooling bath waiting for her inside it—the one thing that was bothering her was the door to her balcony. It was still closed shut but something in her gut was telling her to go closer.
                          
Her lips pursed as she walked closer to the door, making sure to keep every step as quiet as possible. When she got close enough to touch the handle she noticed the lock was unbolted. Someone had used her balcony door.
                          
Her eyes narrowed as her fingers grabbed onto the door handle and quickly yanked it open.
                          
First she registered the soft gasp issued by the person standing on her balcony, then as she took a step forward and grabbed the intruder by the back of his shirt after registering just an instant later that there was only one person who would enter her room without an invitation and who had that much muscle packed into his back and arms and... well, everywhere.
                          
"Glad to see you haven't lost your skills at deduction," he said and she just knew he had that stupid grin on his face.
                          
She shoved him toward the balcony railing. "Kwan, I swear to God—"
                          
He caught himself on the metal and turned slowly to face her. Lana's arms crossed as he gave her a small smile. Even though she was jumping up and down in her head that Lawrence Kwan was actually smiling she just frowned at him, using all her mental strength to try and keep up her lack of a grin.
                          
"Is it really that big of a surprise that I'm here?" He asked cocking his head to the side and she had to admit that he had a point. They usually met to go down to breakfast together, but it wasn't even close for that—the bright colors of the sunrise had just begun to blend into the bright blue Eclisian sky.
                          
"You're early."
                          
He just shrugged resting his strong, calloused hands on the railing of her balcony, his ear still close to his shoulder. He looked as though he was a butcher inspecting a cow that he was about to slaughter, his grin faded into just the corners of his mouth turned upward in the slightest of smiles.
                          
There was the smile she knew.
                          
Her arms folded across her chest as she shot him a pointed look. "Well, Colonel, since you're so early, you can wait for me to actually be ready."
                          
"Sounds alright to me, ma'am," Kwan said and in the blink of an eye he was upright, his lounging—butcher like stance gone, and his hand shot up in a crisp salute.