Bad Teacher

“But My Prince …”

“Amir is fine, Hassan,” I say as I have so many times before, but it never seems to stick. Although he’s been my advisor for some time, he just can’t get past the official terms for some reason.

“Amir,” he says, “Do we really have to go through with this?”

I adjust my shirt and tuck it into my white pants before zipping up. “Yes. I’m going. End of story.”

There’s no way I’m pulling out now. Not when I’m already cooped up in this hotel far away from the busy palace. I need this night. Just one night.

“But what if the press finds out?” Hassan says.

“They won’t,” I say as I turn to face him. “It’s evening. The venue will be dark. Besides, I’m in disguise. It’ll be fine. Did you bring the scarf I asked for?”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He immediately fishes ten of them out of the oversized bag he brought. “Which color did you want? Size?” He holds them up as I contemplate.

“Red one,” I say, pointing at it, but then I lower my finger. “Or do you think blue would suit this better?” I look myself up and down in the mirror, wondering if this’ll work.

“That depends on what you’re trying to achieve,” he says.

“I want to look as normal as possible,” I say, frowning as I check myself in the mirror. Will anyone notice it’s me? I hope not. I’ll have to think of an excuse if they do question me; otherwise, I’ll just make a run for it. Simple.

“Normal …” Hassan clears his throat. “Well, you look outstanding to me, Your Royal Highness.”

“So do I look like you?” I ask.

“Like me?” His lips part, confused. “Um … well, I guess.”

“This is how you dress in your free time, right?” I ask, doing a twirl for him.

I’m only copying what I’ve seen him wear so many times.

“Yes, but … it’s not suited for a prince.”

“No, Hassan. Remember what I said.” I raise a brow at him.

He smashes his lips together and repeats what I told him like a parrot. “Right … You’re not a prince tonight.”

I wink. “Exactly.”

“Let’s just hope everyone else thinks that way too, or we’ll be in a world of trouble.”

I pat his shoulder, laughing. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about that.”

Even if I do get into trouble, I won’t drag him into it. That’s a promise I intend to keep.

I snatch the scarf from his hand and tie it around my neck.

“You always say that, yet things have always ended badly.”

“When? Where?”

“When your father finds out,” he says with a load of snark.

“He won’t find out this time, trust me,” I say. “And if, for some reason, someone does find out, I promise I won’t even mention your name. Your job is safe. I promise.”

“Thank you, My Prince. But if anyone recognizes you—”

“With this disguise?” I interject as I turn to face him, complete with a set of tinted glasses. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“You look …”

“Dashing?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He folds his arms. “It’s so unbecoming for royalty.”

I grin. “Precisely what I was aiming for.”

“But you’re wearing the scarf around your neck,” he says. “Why not around your head?”

“Because that’s how I always wear it. People don’t even know what the top of my head looks like.” I shrug. “If I go out like this, I might get away with just being me.”

“I doubt it,” Hassan says, making me sigh.

“I just want to have a bit of fun, okay?” I say. “Just don’t tell my father.”

“Yes, yes, of course, I won’t. You have my word.”

“Thanks,” I say, winking as I shove a bill into his hand. “And do something fun for yourself too tonight.”

“Is this …? Are you buying my loyalty, Your Highness?” He attempts to shove the bill back into my hand, but I won’t allow it.

“No, Hassan. I’m just saying I want you to chill. Relax. Get out. Do something fun. Find a girl. Hook up. Go crazy.”

“Crazy? But you know that’s not—”

“Anything is allowed tonight,” I say as I turn around and grab my keys. “No rules. No judgment. End of story.”

He stays put in the middle of the room, looking a bit befuddled. “Wait. You’re going? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now. And don’t even think about following me,” I say, before closing the door behind me.

* * *

Adrenaline surges through my body as I make my way through the crowded streets, clutching my scarf close to my lips, hoping no one will recognize me. I get the few odd stares every now and then, but by the time they turn to look again, I’ve already disappeared into the sea of people.

I love the thrill of going out in public like this, not knowing when or if someone will recognize me and scream my name from the top of their lungs. The danger excites me, making me do these sorts of things even when I know I’m not supposed to.