Chapter 63: Chapter XXIX Insecure-2

"Are you seriously going to make me wait?" "Excuse you. You made me wait," I responded, feeling a little bit cheeky. "I was convinced it was illegal," she told me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, it is illegal to call me your girlfriend when we haven't even gone on date yet. You're just going to have to suck it up," Sarina chuckled at me, shaking her head before pecking my forehead. "You are unbelievable," "But you're already in too deep," I looked up at her with a smile. She returned the smile. "Can I call you 'babe'?" "Hell no," "Worth a shot," ♕♥ ♕♥ ♕ I headed through the palace with my Italian textbook, studying grammar notes in preparation of the test I knew my tutor was going to spring on me. I didn't like to study while sitting, instead needing momentum and different locations to remember things. Sometimes I would say up things to Royal Guards, pretending as if I'm tutoring them. I remembered things easier then when I used quite a few senses. The most hilarious memory I had of studying like that is when one of the Royal Guards actually responded, giving me hint on how to remember a passage. It was wonderful. As I through the halls, the familiar sound of classical music filled my ears. I took a small break, heading over to listen to their progress. I expected the usual beautiful melody they played, not a single piece they've ever played sounding terrible. This one, however, made me a bit worried. There was a few screeches from Cornelius's bow, Bartholomew missing keys. I knew they were nervous about their performance, but not this much that they couldn't even practice normally. Their conductor sounded absolutely furious, making comments on any off note. But as more comments spouted from her mouth, the more the twins began to ruin their performance. I recognized the song, it was familiar. This wasn't how it was supposed to be played. I pitied them, knowing they had no choice in the matter. There was still three weeks before the Royal Variety Performance, and they would have to pull it together if they hoped to be any good. Could my parents not see them suffering? Could they not figure out that by forcing something, it won't ever be as good? The King and Queen were wise, yes, but they were still amateurs when it came to parenting. I wasn't exactly the best child, rebelling at every turn. My parents thought force would work on us, as nothing else did. They force them to play, force them to stay, force them to give up their freedom. They forced me to change my appearance, forced me to go another country and forced me to interact with people I didn't want to. I wasn't going to be that kind of Queen. ♕♥ ♕♥ ♕ Bartholomew's fingers hit the black and white keys but every sound he made was distasteful. They felt awkward and forced, not flowing like he was used to. The song he and his other half were practicing for he didn't particularly like, and now he had no choice in the matter. He was to continue the song, for Cornelius's sake. Cornelius had cut his finger on the snare of his violin accidentally while practicing, although it was wonderful that the injury wasn't deep. But Cornelius was now determined to do the piece more than ever because of it, no idea that his brother had no interest in the piece at all. He felt uncomfortable playing something that didn't suit his style, and felt more like an accompanist than a duet partner. Even if the song itself was beautiful, written by Chopin no less, he felt as if his talent was being wasted when he could deliver something more extravagant than the sombre piece. Then again, his disdain was only amplified by the fact that they had no say in the piece nor have any choice in whether they want to perform or not. "Do you think we will be able to do it?" Cornelius question his brother, fear evident on his face. It was way past midnight and they were sharing their insecurities with each other. "We don't have a choice," Bartholomew expressed, wrapping herself under his blankets until he looked like a hermit. He didn't know what Cornelius was up to, but by the sound of it he was pacing around in his slippers. "We can't mess up," he heard a sniffle and guessed that his brother was starting to tear up. "Everyone will be watching..." "Everyone in the world," Bartholomew could feel himself getting emotional, clawing his blankets closer towards him. He felt a weight on top of him and realized that Cornelius flopped onto his bed. Bartholomew came out from under the blankets so that he could move them over his brother. "What if we get nervous on stage? What if I hit a blank?" Bartholomew softly cooed his brother, hoping to calm him and himself down. "We can do it, I know we can. We are the princes of the greatest kingdom in the world. We can do it," Bartholomew softly whispered. "Why are you lying?" Cornelius accused. "Because what else can I do?"