The Prince And The School Girl

Previously

…As she rummaged for her history binder, her fingers brushed against something smooth and cool. It was an envelope, embossed with an unfamiliar crest, sleek and elegant. It wasn't a school announcement, or a flyer for a bake sale. It felt... different. Intrigued, she pulled it out, her brow furrowed. The paper was thick, creamy, and smelled faintly of something exotic, like sandalwood and distant seas. There was no return address, just her name, Emily Peterson, written in elegant, looping script. A shiver, not entirely of cold, traced its way down her spine. This was, she suspected, the first ripple in the still waters of her ordinary life.