“I’m Leo.”

 He runs toward the playing field, his arms cradling the ball casually introducing himself.

“Aww. Man, you brought a girl to play?” This tall, beefy guy complains his eyebrows furrowing in disgust.

“Whatever!” I spat. I steal the ball from him and kick it towards the beefy guy. I may look delicate and frail but a male could not beat me easily.

The ball hit his torso and the force pushes him to the ground. “Your pretentious body disgusts me. Do you know what muscles are for?” I approach his slouched figure, standing tall beside him with my arms crossed.

Leo smiles silently and mumbled. “Pretty good,” I smirk from his remark, the poor male had no idea I could hear him. “For a girl.” He adds and kicks the ball towards me.

I give him a meaningful look, coaxing out my silver aura but it wasn’t working and Leo was laughing silently at what contorted facial expression I had.

The game went on without much talking, only grunting and the muted sound of shoes scratching on the grassy land.

All the males were breathing heavy and sitting on the grass, some even lying down. They had half smiles on their red tinged and sweaty faces but Leo was standing, running up to me.

He tilts his head towards the other males and smiles smugly. He flings my bag to me and I start toward home. I wasn’t even breaking a sweat when they were all tuckered out.

“Miss, come back tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure. Is this a suggestion or a question? Maybe an order? But no one can order me around and surely this male wasn’t foolish to do such a thing.

I didn’t do much as to look back and try to find his eyes. Next to a fox’s eyes his eyes were always alert and never relaxed. It gave him a sense of danger, like people around him were in danger or he was the bearer of danger. Either way he looked like a predator, something like the animals we hunt.

“Miss, I meant come back tomorrow. Please?” His hands were hanging mid-air and his eyes changed. His pupils were so dilated, it almost looked cute?

But still I didn’t nod. I just gazed deeper and deeper into his eyes, figuring out their mystery. I had to stop, for Queen mother will scold me for this. I shook my head, waking me from this gazing spell and I averted my gaze from his eyes and started home.

I step inside our home and storm into my room, not minding mother’s lonesome presence in front of the food set on the table.

Halt. Do not be disrespectful Beatrice, I’m warning you.

The Queen’s voice spoke to me, I wanted to say something but what? Tell her that men are not as bad as they have been telling us? Not a chance. She would rip my throat out.

Before my thoughts could slide into an endless cycle of thinking about Leo, mother knocked on my door and cautiously opened it. “Have dinner. Someone from the supermarket suggested I should buy beef since you need food to study right? That woman was peculiar though, she had these silver eyes, mesmerizing. If I hadn’t known she would’ve hypnotized me but that’s highly unlikely.” She smiles knowingly.

She would, actually I think she did, I know that woman. That was the Queen, but why would she visit? Oh my, did she find out that I have been locking eyes with a male?

I stand up, dusting the minute particles of soil from my skirt and trail behind her. “Oh and you have a visitor.”

It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault. I have been chanting in my head for the last five minutes. “Princess. I just want to say I’m sorry.” Mother, for some terrible and unnecessary excuse, lets him in.

Mother looks up and shifts her gaze from me to him. I ignore him and rest my chopsticks, picking up the spoon and sipping some broth. His eyes return to his meal when I don’t look up to meet his gaze.  “What are you sorry for, son?”

Son? He is not your son. Just because he’s immature doesn’t mean you’re obligated to call him son?

“I said some mean things and I didn’t think it would offend her, but it did.” His eyes stay locked on his meal with his head just a little bit bowed.

“He said sorry already. You—“

“I really think you should go.” I interrupt their conversation and place my spoon down with a small clink.

“Princess, I’m really sorry. You didn’t have to skip class. I’m just worried for you. I had to lie to our teachers to cover for you.” When I stood up, he imitates me and tries to calm me.

“You skipped class?” Now all of us are standing, the latest addition is my mother, the tension building up in the room at a fast rate.

“You didn’t have to do that. And yes, mother, I skipped class.” I whispered the words, like reciting a dark curse and sprinkled a little mockery to my to