"So, commoner's county, eh?" Ian said, gazing at the scenery around him as he pulled on the auburn-haired girl's- known to New Yorkers as the average artist, average Amy Cahill- hand, rushing her forward.

"C-commoner's?" Amy stared at the boy in front of her in shock.

"Yes! Look at these small apartments, these shabby bricks! I would bet that these only cost..about 500,000 American dollars! A 'bargain' one would say, sure, but for this quality..." He clicked his toungue. "I would say not."

Amy gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. Stupid, rich bastard, she thought darkly. But forcing a laugh, she nodded stiffly.

"Ahaha...Y-yeah, I guess. I'm not a rich pers- connoiseur, so I... wouldn't... r-really know."

Ian nodded, only half paying attention. "Oh, that's...interesting." He mumbled, staring at the shiny black leather of his Giorgio Armani shoes.

"Mmhmm." Amy murmured as the pair fell into an awkward silence.

"Ahem." Amy cleared her throat nervously after a few minutes. "S-so...what's it like to be a p-prince, Ian?I m-mean, your highness. Sorry, I f-forgot." she asked, slurring some of her words nervously, looking at the ground as she walked.

"Meh. All right. There are perks, good posture, good manners, good credit card limit." He laughed. "But...I spent more time learning how to use your pinky as a buffer to put a cup down silently then I did with my father..." He trailed off. "And please, call me Ian. I'm going to recieve enough, 'Your highness's' when I'm king."

A few people on the street stared at him, while others rolled their eyes and grumbled about mental institutions.

"Oh...and I-i-i-ian.." Amy shook her head. "Please let me call you Prince Ian. Ian's too...casual for someone like you."

Ian shrugged, which Amy took for consent.

"So, how does, a girl like you, lovely, of course," he winked, to which Amy could only blush and think about how the word 'womanizer' suddenly made sense to her now, "-become an artist. You are quite..." He searched for the word.

"Unassuming? Shy? Frumpy?" Amy supplied, and then flushed. Ian smiled slightly but did not discourage her. "Aha...um, well...it was something I took up when I was younger. My father liked to draw, so I learned from him. I never was really good, but I practiced when I was b-bored...Even now, my drawings are-they're, um...ha, pretty a-average."

Ian nodded. "I see. And where are your parents now?"

Amy sniffled and glanced away. "Um...they died. Illness."

"I'm so sorry."

Amy's eyes flashed. "I don't need your pity!" she cried, then blushed. "I-i-i-i-i-"

"Completely understand. "Ian smiled. He then sniffed. "What are you wearing?"

"Eh? Oh, j- jeans, a t-shirt-"

"That's what, two years old?" He sneered. "If anyone saw me with you, they'd think I was a commoner!"

"I-i'm sorry..." Amy mumbled, embarrased.

Ian snorted, in a very royal way, of course. "And what is with that attitude?"


Ian sighed. "Look, this week, you are going to teach me how to have fun. I am going to teach you self-confidence."

Amy glanced up. "W-what are the merits in that? I-i'm pretty hopeless."

" Yes. Yes, you are. But I'm good at dealing with the hopeless. I've had hopeless dogs and maids before, you realize. And the merits are, that I don't get embarrased at my own wedding." He groaned. "Thanks for that, by the way."


"You reminded me that I'm going to get married. Thanks." He scowled.

"That wasn't my fault! It was you who-"

Ian laughed. "There you go! A little more confidence!"

Amy blushed. "S-so.." She tried,failingly, to change the subject. "Where would you like to go first?"

Ian frowned glancing up. "What would you recommend?"

"U-uh..for you?"

"No, for anyone. Good sights. I'm not blind, you know. In fact..." He straightened, and smirked at his handsome reflection in a nearby shop window. "I probably have better sight than anyone. I'm aristocracy, you realize."

Amy stifled a snort. "R-right. Um...how about The Statue of Liberty?"

"That sounds good. Take me there."

Amy sighed. "As you wish." She sighed. This is going to be a long week...


Hey guys, PrettyLittleArtist here! I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while, but I've been pretty blocked. And I have high school so ugh :P It's great, Le Rosey is...but French is HARRRRRRDDD!

Also, remember Amy Cahill? She's my bestie , and I have word from her! (She's not dead!)

She really needs a break from story-writing, but she'll be back soon! she says she loves you :)

Please review, and I'll (hopefully) update soon.

~P.S. This chapter was reuploaded and edited.