Page 9 of The Prince and the Bodyguard
The line moved quickly enough and I grabbed whatever caught my eye. Some fruit, a slice of wholewheat toast, two pancakes, two hard boiled eggs, and two strips of bacon. A bit of a mishmash, but it would do. Bash had already informed me that we could get some groceries if we wanted to make our own breakfast. We had a mini fridge, so there was that.
We found seats by one of the large windows overlooking the campus, and I spent the first few minutes of breakfast marveling at the normalcy of it all. Students at nearby tables were discussing everything from weekend plans to upcoming exams, and no one was paying us the slightest attention. Even at Oxford, everyone had known I was Prince Gregory, even if my friends there had called me Greg. But for the first time in my life, no one looked at me twice, and I was just another university student having breakfast.
Well, almost.
“So,” Bash said, his plate half-empty already, “let’s go over today’s schedule.”
I nodded.
“We have the orientation meeting at nine, followed by individual meetings with our academic advisors. You’ll need to wait for me to be done with mine, unfortunately.”
“I can’t walk back to our dorm by myself?”
He immediately shook his head. “Not an option. Not right away, anyway. I want us to settle in first and see if anyone recognizes you before we decide to loosen up on your security.”
As much as I hated it, he wasn’t wrong. “Okay. I’ll wait.”
He leaned in, his warm brown eyes deadly serious. “I need to be able to trust you that if I ask you to do something, you will. Otherwise, this arrangement won’t work.”
He’d said the same thing on the Zoom call, but I couldn’t fault him for stressing it again. “I know, and I promise I’ll follow your instructions.”
“One of them is that you can’t leave the dorm without me. I would appreciate time to work out in the mornings, so if you tell me what time you’d want to get out, I’ll make sure to be back and ready.”
I blinked slowly. It hadn’t even occurred to me how much of his free time he’d be giving up for his job. He wouldn’t be able to do anything or go anywhere unless I stayed in our dorm. “Of course. Erm, I have no idea of our schedule, though. I’ll need to look into that before giving you a definitive answer.”
“Most days, we don’t have class until ten. Monday is the exception with class starting at eight-thirty.”
He had the schedule memorized. Could I possibly come across as an even bigger twat? “Then it’s fine if you’re back by nine for class.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
“I’m not sure you should thank me. Rather the other way around, I would think. You’re sacrificing a lot for this.”
He shrugged. “It’s my job.”
He might feel different after a few weeks, but I refrained from pointing that out.
“Did you want to do any extracurricular activities?” he asked. “Clubs, sports, that sort of thing?”
I shook my head. “Most unlikely. I wish to fly under the radar as much as possible, and I fear I’d stand out too much in a smaller group.”
“We can leave it for now and see how it goes, hmm? You can always join later in the semester.”
The orientation session was held in an older lecture hall. About two hundred students were scattered throughout the distinctly uncomfortable seats, most looking as slightly lost as I felt. Bash and I found seats in the middle section, not too close to the front but with a clear view of the exits, and on the end of the row, obviously.
The presentation itself was standard administrative fare, discussing housing policies, academic requirements, campus resources. I tried hard to pay attention and take notes like the diligent student I was supposed to be. Instead, I found myself hyperaware of Bash sitting beside me, the way his pen moved across his notebook in neat, efficient script, the faint scent of his aftershave, and how he shifted slightly in his seat when the presenter moved on to emergency procedures.
It was torture of the most exquisite kind.
How was I supposed to maintain any semblance of professional boundaries when simply sitting next to Bash in a lecture hall made my pulse race? I had roughly nine months and three weeks left of this arrangement. At this rate, I’d be a complete wreck by Christmas.
I was here to discover my authentic self, to experience life as a normal university student. Instead, I was becoming obsessed with my bodyguard’s proximity, cataloguing every shift in his posture like it was vital intelligence. This was not the kind of self-discovery Uncle Henry had in mind when he’d agreed to this arrangement.
I managed to make it through that session, then headed into my meeting with my academic advisor, a Korean man with a kind, open face. “Eddie, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Professor Kang.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Professor Kang. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
“Always so polite, the British,” he said with a smile.
