The Royal Matchmaking Competition: Princess Qloey by Zoiy Galloay

Author:Zoiy Galloay [Galloay, Zoiy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zoiy G. Galloay
Published: 2023-01-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The Ruby Mines

Edgar, Prince of Baylor

Human. Age 18. Second son of King Edward. Family owns several ruby mines, two castles, a palace & three estates bordering the Centaurus Forest. Interests: Playing piano & listening to opera.

“Truly, you will enjoy this date. I especially prepared it based on the topics you’re most passionate about.” I could barely see Edgar with only a single small lantern bobbing back and forth to the rhythm of the carriage as we rode down the cobblestone streets, meaning… he could barely see the mischievous smirk on my face. “And it’s my way of showing gratitude for you being here.” For once, Edgar allowed me to get a sentence in.

“I don’t fancy surprises. Please tell me where we’re going. Not knowing is unquestionably alarming, emphatically perplexing, indubitably horrifying. To speculate what’ll happen next, oh…” he said as if in pain from the unwelcoming feeling of not being in control of the situation.

“You’ll see in no time.” I sniggered under my breath.

This. Will. Be. Fun.

He cringed as we stepped out of the carriage and into the dirty streets, which had fecal matter splattered about from lack of proper sewage systems and wood barred across the windows of every building to keep criminals out. The homeless slept in every crevice and cranny they could find, while the sick dragged themselves down the street as if it took every ounce of strength they had left in their feeble bodies.

“What is this filthy place?” Edgar exclaimed.

A beggar with large warts all over his face walked toward him asking for money. Edgar was informed to ‘dress down’ yet he still wore a silk doublet and gold rings studded with blood rubies from his mines, letting everyone in the neighborhood know that he had money to spare.

“Guards! Guards!” He shouted, but I pulled the guards back with the wave of a hand.

“No need. This is our building, here.” I stepped inside.

Edgar leapt in the air as if ants chomped into his derriere and hurried after me.

The large room housed two dozen wooden tables and a low wood ceiling. It had an overwhelming smell about it from the homeless who were several years overdue for a bath or some perfume to hide their body-odor. The homeless now lined up to receive their dinner and secure their bed for the night.

The shelter staff were explicitly told not to follow royal etiquette and treat us as volunteers. Soldiers wore regular gear and disguised themselves as homeless for my protection. Nonetheless, the staff still curtsied. I joined the assembly line to provide porridge and bread to the clients.

“What are we DOING HERE?” His voice trembled with trepidation.

“You wished to know more about the homeless shelter, did you not?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

“You MIS-interpreted my—” He went quiet as a homeless woman walked by. He was so disgusted by the dirty rag she wore, he rushed to my other side.

“Our dear Edgar needs a job to do,” I informed the staff. “Why not clean the

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