Chapter 7: Small talk

Mia lay down on her comfortable bed, stretching all fours.

Finally, two days and six meals down.

Arthur Golden, check. The man with the flashing gold belt.

Russell White, check. The boy with the bright glowing smile.

Jamie Amber, check. The one who did not speak a word.

George Grey, check. The one who looked very depressed.

Teddy Tyrian, check. The one who wore a purple checkered top with a nervous laughter.

Robert Brown, check. The poet who wrote a poem about her hair.

Six meals and enough small talk to last for a year. To hide the awkward silence, the conversation with these men sometimes mentioned the blue skies, or the weather, or the number of eggs on the dining table.

It seemed like Emily Harper might have intentionally left the best for the last. After all, all the suitors that had made it to her list of "recommendation", were only going to meet Mia the following day.

Russell White, the Prince of Ivory, was an excellent conversationalist despite his young age. He mentioned he had three sisters and was excellent in engaging womenfolk in conversations. It was indeed a good time well spent with Russell although he was still way too young for Mia to consider as husband material. It was hard to imagine marrying a young boy though Russell himself had repeatedly reassured her that he would grow up to be a fine young man.

"Indeed," Mia had replied.

"You don't look very convinced, my Queen," Russell said.

He gave an disapproving look and said, "I have another proposal to make."

"As much as you think you should remove me from the competition to win your heart, I beg to differ. I have an excellent judge of character, and am a great companion. Keep me as long as possible. I just want to show my people that I am a very deserving candidate. And I want to be your friend."

"A nice proposition," Mia replied. "If you were much older, I would seriously consider you," she almost laughed.