Hello everyone! Clippy checking in. So, this chapter is very related to chapter 8, which will be coming out next week :). You got some Angela x Hugo in this, but also Johnathan will make an appearance, so let's see how that goes.

Also thank you for 130+ views! It's honestly quite a shock to me, especially for a sequel. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this series :)

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Angela skipped into the prince's chambers, Hugo rubbing his eyes. "Good morning, Miss. Cunningham." He muttered, "how are you?" "I'm amazing, what about you?" She chimed in reply, running over to the side of his bed.

"I swear to god," -she cupped his face- "I will put moisturizer on your face myself!" He groaned, getting out of bed as she let go of his face. "Fine, I'll go do it now," he grumbled, "happy?" She nodded enthusiastically, Hugo sighing as he shut the bathroom door.

"That Angela smells like lemonade," Plagg noted, snickering as his holder told him to lower his tone. "Of course she smells like that," he scoffed, "she's a laundry maid." "So, you're saying that know what she smells like?"

He glared at his kwami, grabbing some moisturizer and sighing. "Do I use this?" he questioned. Plagg shrugged, him putting some onto his face and hands. He walked out of the bathroom, Angela's eyes lighting up.

"Good!" She squealed, "now you have to do that every day." "What!?" "Hey, if you want to look even more handsome than everyone says you are," -she placed her fingertip on his nose- "then you got to put moisturizer on."

He groaned, Angela giggling. He couldn't be rude to her; he may have cared about her a bit too much. "Also," -he cleared his throat- "would you like to attend the ball tonight?" Her eyes lit up, "That's so great!" -he smiled at her statement- "I would love to!"

"My goodness, Jonathan is going to be so excited." He mentally slapped himself for forgetting about her pesky boyfriend, but he couldn't say that he could not attend as well. "I'm sure," he sighed, "I do have a dress you could wear if you'd like."

"Ooh, can I see it?" She smiled, the prince running to his closet. "My mother gave this to me for a girl," he sighed, hiding his blush, "you can have it if you want." She took the dress, "It's so gorgeous," she breathed, "I can't wait to wear it!"

He smiled gently at her reaction, Plagg snickering behind his back.

***

"Oh, you look so gorgeous, honey," Zoey praised, asking Angela to spin around once more. She giggled, "thanks, mom!" "It's the dress Hugo gave me," she added. "I think it's too pretty for a girl who works as a maid."

"Don't say that!" Zoey immediately bounced back, "you look gorgeous, and he's going to think that too." Angela smiled at her mother's usual enthusiasm, finding it incredible that she could always look at everything from a positive view.

"The dance is gonna start any minute," she ran up to the door, pausing at the door frame, "and thanks mom, for your help." She dashed out of the room, skipping steps as she jumped down the stairwell.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," -she glanced up at her boyfriend's tone- "we wouldn't want you falling with your clumsiness." She giggled, grabbing his wrist as she dragged him to the grand hall.

He smirked devilishly. "I know a way to really get the night started." Her eyes lit up, "really?" She practically bounced on her toes "how?" "We should go get some drinks at the reception," he glanced at her seductively, "maybe it will help you with your little issue."

She tensed up, "I told you, John," "I'm not interested in having sex with you quite yet." "And," -she glanced back at him- "I definitely don't want to do it with alcohol in my system."

He smirked, "why are you such a baby." "I-I'm not!" she fired back, "I just - you know how my dad was. He had a big issue with alcohol before I was born." "And he's over it now, but I don't want to make the same mistake."

"Come on Angela," he groaned, "if anything, tonight is the perfect day for this." "I said no!" She exclaimed back, his grip still wound tight around her wrist.

He pulled her up to his chest, his warm breath tickling her neck. "I may be able to convince you otherwise."

***

Angela could barely see straight. She sat at one of the bar chairs, her shoulders slouched on the cool countertop. Her head hurt, and she felt like throwing up; she knew she shouldn't have let herself have a drink. Because, she had one drink, and then another, then another; but, it was all too blurry for her to recall. 

"Can you watch my drink?" Angela muttered, her boyfriend nodding. She walked off to the bathroom, splashing cold water onto her face; not caring if any of her makeup had got smudged.

Jonathan took a white pill from his back pocket and dropped it into Angela's drink with a small splash. He stirred it around with his finger, knowing that she was going to be too drunk to notice.

He still presumed that she was going to be uncomfortable with having sex with him; so he was going to make it so she didn't have to do anything. Once she had the drink, she was going to pass out in the next ten minutes. He had that time to bring her to his room, and not be seen by her family, and most importantly, the prince.

He had been keeping a steady eye on her, but the clambering from the selected girls had made it harder for him to do. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoed in the background, Angela slipping back onto the seat.

"I think we should go now," she muttered, "I can barely walk straight." He chuckled, "yes we can go," -he stroked his chin- "but wait, don't you want to finish your drink?" She tossed him a skeptical look. "There is only a tad bit left, it won't do you any more harm than you have already done," he added with a chuckle.

She sipped the drink slowly, Jonathan keeping a straight face throughout. "Done," she groaned, grasping her stomach. "Now, can we please go," she muttered; Johnathan grabbing her waist. The prince had noted them leaving, him keeping a watchful eye on Angela as they left to the door.

In the next five minutes, they had arrived at her room. He locked the door, placing the key on the table as Angela kicked off both of her heels. "I'm so done for the night," she groaned, "I told you - I can't drink!" "I just get out of control," she mumbled sheepishly.

"Don't worry, my dear," -he pecked her cheek- "I'm sure you'll be out like a light soon enough." She smiled, taking off his suit jacket from the front. "Does that mean what I think it does?" he whispered, Angela giggling. "No silly," -she slapped his shoulder playfully- "I'm just taking it off, it smells like you drenched it in cologne."

He chuckled darkly, Angela flipping the jacket over her arm. She rubbed her temples; she felt as if she was about to pass out. The breast pocket had a snow-coloured cloth in it, so she decided to pull it out so she could put the jacket in her laundry bin.

She accidentally looked deeper into the pocket; she saw a small package. "What's this?" she asked, pulling it out completely. "Oh," -he cleared his throat- "that is just my pain medication. I took it today."

She glanced at him skeptically, "What happened?" "Oh, I just threw out my back fixing one of the sinks in the laundry department." "Was it the one in the back corner?" "Yes," -he crossed his arms- "that is the one."

"There is no sink in the back corner."

She read the label. "A-And the label it says," her breath hitched. "...Did you just drug me, Jonathan?" She asked suddenly feeling a tight grip around her wrist. "Angela, you're too uncomfortable with doing anything with me," he muttered through gritted teeth, "this is just to help you feel more comfortable."

"Stop lying!" she cried, whipping her wrist from his grip. "Angela," -he gripped her waist- "just a few minutes more, and there won't be any more decision on the matter." "Let go!" she cried, scrambling towards the door handle.

He grabbed her throat, Angela crying harder as she tried to get out of his grip.

Angela grabbed one of her heels from the floor and chucked it at his face. She used the key and ran out, ignoring his angered shout. She ran to the stairwell; hearing the faint melody of Moonlight Sonata echoing through her ears as she caught her breath.

She was going to pass out any second, the prince then glancing up at her. "Miss. Cunningham," -she glanced down at the prince- "care to come down?" She froze, then nodding slightly as she walked down the stairs.

One step at a time; and there are no heels to trip you. What could go wrong?

Another step.

Another step.

Her vision clouded.

Another step.

And another.

"Angela?" his voice sounded muffled, "are you alright?"

"Hugo-"

Her eyelids drifted closed, and she had fallen straight into the prince's arms as the music pitched.

***

Hugo stared astonishingly at the view of Angela in his arms. He cupped the side of her face; she looked pale and distressed as he picked her up bridal style. He ignored the faint noise of his kwami's snickering, the prince staring directly at her.

Her dress, that he had given her, was the only thing that looked alright about her. Her skin was pale, her hair was a mess, and her mascara had smudged her porcelain skin.

Who had done this? Why did they do this?

The prince cleared his throat at his thoughts; he couldn't focus on that right now. He needed to bring her to the hospital wing. His brows then furrowed at his next thought.

...Was this Jonathan's doing?

Welp, now you know what Johnathan was planning to do to Angela while she was unconscious. Johnathan honestly sucks, but let's see if Hugo is smart enough to ask Angela about what had happened.

But, as always, stay tuned ;)!