The sweet potato-girl, as it turned out, had an affinity for fire magic.

It was entrancing— the way flames crackled and danced with a single flick of her wrist. Joe watched the girl elegantly swirl the heat around the skewers, as if she was a pile of burning coal itself. She had the orange flames literally wrapped around her fingers, expertly bringing them closer to the sweet potatoes without burning them all to a crisp.

Her control was magnificent.

There was no burn marks, no scars. Her skin was unblemished and smooth. The girl hadn’t even flinched, nor did she give any indication that the heat was bothering her. She was handling the flames like a rhythmic gymnast would twirl their pretty ribbons, like an extension of her limbs. Joe stared on unabashedly, all thoughts of Prince Emmanuel slipping away from her mind.

Joe had no idea who this person was, but someone who roasted sweet potatoes over magical fires smack in the Royal garden of Triciella— wasn’t high up on the list of things she’d been expecting to see here.

As if sensing her confusion, the person in question graced her with a polite smile. “Do you want one?”

“O-Oh, thanks.” Joe accepted the skewer with what she hoped was an equally polite smile. She had no beef with free food, and frankly, poisoning someone with roasted sweet potatoes seemed like such a pointless way to kill a person. If it were a seasoned warrior like Nero, he’d just swiftly bury the stick into her exposed neck and be done with it.

Besides, she hadn’t eaten anything this morning. Joe greedily inhaled the wafting smell and licked her lips. Surely, the stupid second prince could wait for a minute or two?

“I do not usually eat commoner’s food.” The other girl smiled as she watched Joe bite into the sweet potatoes enthusiastically. She looked the same age as Joe, give or take one year. “But I really wanted to know more about them, so I asked Zack here to bring me something directly from the farms. Ah! He is my butler, by the way.”

Her red-headed savior flashed them a mock salute. “Zack Mathews, at your service.”

“Ah, hello.” Joe returned the gesture with another smile. She thought they were a very pleasant duo, and she hadn’t expected to meet such pleasant people in the Triciellan Royal palace at all. The sweet potato was delicious, by the way.

Belatedly, Joe realized that she hadn’t introduced herself till now.

“My name is Joanna Valeria Winsten.” She delicately lifted the skirt with her free hand and made a low curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I know.” Sweet potato girl was all smiles, and by the looks of it, she was enjoying the look of increasing confusion in Joe’s face. For the first time, Joe started noticing the subtle hints of amusement from the girl— as if she was in on a private joke that Joe couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“Uh, if I may ask…” Joe began, stupidly glancing between the lady and her butler, “… which family are you from?” Because the older girl hadn’t introduced herself yet, and Joe couldn’t decide between feeling suspicious and feeling mildly offended. “You are nobility, isn’t that right?”

“Something like that.” The sweet potato girl hummed. She picked up another skewer and daintily bit into the roasted vegetable. Her eyes lit up in surprise; undoubtedly delighted by the sweet and smoky taste. “Oh, these are pretty good!”

Her butler nudged at the elbow. “Careful, they’re still hot.”

He was acting less like a butler and more like a nagging mother.

“You should try the snacks they sell at the city’s Central Square.” Joe blurted out without thinking. “They might not be the same as all the high class food, but you might grow to like some of them.” Joe had sampled some fried chicken and croquettes from one of the shops— they were hastily cooked and too oily compared to the suave dishes that she regularly ate at the Winsten manor. But Joanna Stuart, the unsophisticated commoner, still craved that unhealthy junk food with all her commoner heart.

The silence from the other end jolted her out of the thoughts. Sweet potato girl and her red-haired butler were looking at her like she had grown another head on her shoulders. Joe flushed under their stare. She knew it! She fucking knew that she’d end up saying something un-Winsten-like sooner or later!

“I— uh, lately I’m kind of interested in commoner food as well, y’know?” Joe tried a dainty smile— they were not her forte (her mouth always ended puckering the wrong way) — and wiped the remnants of sweet potatoes with a pink napkin. “I asked my bodyguard to fetch some from the snack shops in Riseindell. He— uh, knows a lot about them, hehehe.”

“Ah!” The sweet potato girl smiled in wonder, as if enlightened, while Zack Mathews looked plain confused. “I just knew that you’d be an interesting girl! I knew it the moment I saw you coming out from under those bushes— with that wild hair and rumpled clothes, looking like a constipated pigeon!”

Joe cringed at the description. Had she looked that bad? Of course she did! Who in the world has seen a noble lady crawling through the bushes on all fours in broad daylight? She was lucky that this world wasn’t advanced enough for a mobile camera, or she might have hit the headlines already.

Patricia Winsten would have an aneurysm if she got any wind of this debacle.

“Pardon my assumption,” Joe cleared her throat, “But I get the feeling that you already know who I am, Lady.”

Sweet potato girl threw back her head and laughed. Gone were all traces of dainty smiles and elegant wiles, and Joe could only gape at the noble lady guffawing in front of her.

Zack nudged at his mistress again, looking clearly amused himself. “You’re being too loud, Nora.”

“Ahahaha!” ‘Nora’ wiped the tears from her eyes, lips stretched into a wide grin. “Of course I know who you are, Lady Winsten. You are my naïve little brother’s fiancée after all!”

Joe froze like a deer caught in headlights. Little brother? His fiancée ?!

“You— could it be, you are— ?!”

‘Nora’— the sweet potato girl, reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Joe’s ear, her smile sweeter than the sweet potato itself. Joe was too dumbstruck to protest.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, Lady Joanna Winsten. I am Eleanor Vivian Grayford, Emmanuel’s older sister and the first princess of Triciella.”

Someone shoot me!

Joe threw away the skewer and did a perfect ninety degrees bow, mentally going over their entire conversation so far. Had she said anything weird? Had she been disrespectful? Had she given the sweet pota— ahem, Princess any good reason to order her execution on the spot?!

Is this what they called ‘Out of the frying pan and into the proverbial and literal fire’?!

“So what do you think of my little brother, Lady Joanna?” The princess was all smiles, but this time Joe didn’t miss the hidden threat in her pretty voice.

I want to go home!

Joe gave a nervous chuckle. “I have heard that prince Emmanuel is a very charming and kind person. I haven’t had the honour of personally meeting him yet, your highness.”

“Do you like his looks? His personality? His intellect?” The princess went on as if she hadn’t heard Joe at all. “Do you think that you fall in love with him?”

I think I’m going to be sick. “Uh…”

“Or are you only in love with his status as royalty, hmm?”

Joe ran a tired hand through her hair. She didn’t think that she’d ever live to see the day when she would be labelled as a ‘gold-digger’. She didn’t care about the second prince, and she cared about his money even less. The whole engagement shtick could be avoided if Joe had reincarnated into a peasant in some insignificant corner of this world, but such things were clearly not meant to be.

“With all due respect, your highness,” Joe said irritably, “I cannot answer your question. I cannot guarantee the extent of my feelings towards Prince Emmanuel, and I cannot tell you what I may or may not like about him yet. Because I would prefer to withhold my judgement until I have actually met my fiancé in person, and I’d rather not nurse any grand expectations before that.”

When she realized what she’d just said, Joe immediately clamped her mouth shut.

Oh.

Oh boy! Now she has done it!

Zack whistled. “Ooooh, how brave! I like this one!”

Lady Eleanor’s grin stretched even wider, if it were possible. She viciously stomped on her butler’s shoe without missing a beat, ignored his indignant squawk of protest, and smoothly sidestepped as the poor boy tried to punch her back in retaliation. All in that order, and looking as elegant as ever.

Joe gaped at the pair in confusion.

“You should not speak to royalty like that, Lady Joanna.” The princess said, dusting her skirt, while her butler nursed his swollen foot in the back. There was no malice in her words. “If it were my father in my place, he would order you to be beheaded on the spot. But then again, Lord Father is a tad too paranoid, sometimes.”

Joe gulped and rubbed her neck self-consciously. She hadn’t even met Prince Emmanuel yet, and her palms were already getting sweaty from nervousness.

“…And yet.” Lady Eleanor continued, “I am pleasantly surprised by your honest answer. Emmanuel might be a naïve child, but as his older sister, I find myself relieved that someone like you is chosen as his fiancée.”

Inside her head, Lady Joanna gasped in delight.

The princess clasped Joe’s sweaty palms in her dainty fingers and leaned in with expectant eyes. “I do hope that both of continue to support each other from here on.”

Joe struggled not to make a face. ‘Gee Lady, you have no idea about what your naïve little brother is going to do to me in future!’ was what she wanted to say.

She hastily pulled back her hands before the princess could make any more grand demands. “Does that mean that you approve of this match, your Highness?”

“Oh, we shall see about that.” Lady Eleanor was still smiling, but the frosty edge was back in her voice. “I too, shall reserve my judgement for now. But know that if you ever attempt to manipulate or use Emmanuel for your selfish purposes, I. will. Make. You Regret. It. My fair Lady.”

‘Egad, this girl is scary!’ Joe plastered the most winsome smile on her face and nodded vigorously, not trusting herself to speak. Inside, she was shitting bricks. This is exactly why she wanted to avoid royalty at all costs, dammit!

The princess rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Although, I do certainly hope that the two of you can eventually find love and companionship with each other, in the future.”

“Bleh! As if you know anything about love!” The butler quipped back cheekily.

Lady Eleanor promptly dug her heels into his other foot.

“I shall have someone escort you to Emmanuel, Lady Joanna.” She said pleasantly. “I hope we meet again.”

Joe shuddered.

----------------------------------------------

According to Her Highness Lady Eleanor, Prince Emmanuel was awaiting his fiancée’s arrival at the Ice Pavilion, which was located smack at the centre of the Royal Garden. Joe tried to find it in herself to feel guilty for keeping him waiting, but no such feelings came out.

Well gee, it couldn’t be helped!

Her new escort turned out to be another buff man, which was unsurprising because there seemed to be an abundance of buff men in the Triciellan Royal palace. He had an easygoing smile and kindly eyes, which sparkled delightfully as he babbled about every exotic plant and every odd flower in the garden. Joe was a good listener— she grinned excitedly and nodded at all the right places, because when you’re an adult with a corporate job and terrible social skills, smiling and nodding is the only way to go.

Luckily for Joe, she’d learnt it the easy way.

“You know so much about this place.” She told the man, who puffed up his chest in pride. “I’d never even heard of most of these plants you talked about! The person who’d escorted me into the garden earlier— he didn’t really look like he wanted to talk much about the place, aha ha ha.”

Her new escort’s smile immediately turned into a frown.

“You’ve probably met Gail, milady.” He finally said, when he heard Joe’s awkward description of the man (bald head; really, really bushy eyebrows; and a perpetual frown marring his face, y’know?), “He is from the countryside, and doesn’t like to talk to strangers. It has only been a year since Gail was hired. I’m afraid he must have come off as rude, but that man is very good at what he does. Soaks up knowledge like a sponge, I’ve been told.”

Strangers? Joe blinked. To her, it had seemed more like he only held a personal grudge against the nobles…..

“He works in the greenhouse over there.” Her new escort pointed to a giant glass dome quite a ways from the Royal garden. “Gail’s a lone wolf, but the other people leave him alone because he’s really skilled at his work. Well, that fellow probably knows about every single plant that grows in the Triciellan soil. He’s pretty talented at remembering names, I tell you —–”

Joe had long since tuned out his ramblings. She kept walking nonchalantly, but there was an unmistakable feeling of dread curling up against her spine.

She was being watched. Again.

It was the same unsettling sensation that she’d felt at the entrance of the garden, as if someone was following her every movement on the palace grounds. The girl wanted to shrug it off; the royal family had many enemies— it would make sense for them to station hidden guards and keep an eye on visitors. But she knew that she was being watched, and the feeling wasn’t pleasant at all. It almost felt…

“— Malicious.” Lady Joanna finished for her.

Joe tried hard to fight the twitch of surprise on her face. ‘You felt it too?’

“…Have been feeling it ever since you stepped into the garden. As if someone out there cannot wait to get their hands on my neck and strangle the life out of me.”

‘…It’s a very— uh, extreme way of putting it.’

“It’s not. You just don’t have enough sense of danger, girl.” The villainess huffed. “Between your eyes and your instincts, you should always listen to the latter if you want to live.”

‘That is rich coming from you, my Lady.’

“WHAT WAS THAT?!”

The escort peered into her face worriedly. “Is everything alright, milady?”

Joe pressed her lips into a polite smile. She had forgotten that she had company. “Of course, Sir. I am merely overwhelmed by the beauty of the garden around me. Pardon me if I had been looking… distracted.”

The older man laughed good-naturedly.

“You needn’t apologize for nothin’, my Lady. I’m just a lowly commoner from the boonies— I left my village years ago to join the royal guards, and here I am. And you needn’t address me as ‘Sir’ either! Just Rylbert will do, my Lady.”

Joe frowned at the name. It sounded awfully familiar. “Rylbert?”

Her escort rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Dear Goddess! I haven’t even properly introduced myself, have I?” He spun on his heels and bowed low before her, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt.

“Rylbert Hawkins, at your service. my Lady. I am the captain of the order of Royal knights of Triciella.”

The name definitely rang a bell. Joe widened her eyes. This was the estranged sibling of Mathilda and Ted Hawkins! The man Nero had told her about!

“Raise your head, please.” Joe valiantly fought the urge to grin like a fool. She was itching to tell him about his family, but any wrong information would only increase his suspicions. There was no way that Joe, a High Noble lady, should have any information about some commoner family living out there in the boonies.

Rylbert stood straighter and flashed a smile at her. Nero had been right. His eyes held an uncanny resemblance to Ted Hawkins. Unlike his younger brother, this man had an air of confidence and warmth about him. Despite herself, Joe felt her own lips tugging into a happy grin.

“Rylbert, is it? It was a pleasure to meet you!”

------------------------------------------------------

The Ice pavilion wasn’t really made of ice, per se.

Joe did well to hide her disappointment (what had she been expecting anyway?) and shuffled forward to inspect the place. This was a quieter part of the garden. Red roses swayed in full bloom, the wind lulled into a gentle breeze, and even the birds ceased their noisy chatters and peered down curiously from their branches. The air was fragrant with a strange heady smell that reminded Joe of medicine shops and incense sticks, or probably a bizarre combination of the two.

‘I suppose this is what they call the calm before the storm…’ The girl thought anxiously.

As soon as Rylbert Hawkins had reached the Ice pavilion, he performed a perfect gentlemanly bow and politely excused himself with a disarming smile. “His highness Prince Emmanuel has been waiting for you right there. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon, milady.”

He had marched off before Joe could even utter a single word.

In the middle of the beautiful pavilion, sat a young boy with pale skin and a head full of golden curls, reclined lazily over one of the jeweled chairs of the garden. Joe could even spot a long, gleaming, black sword— Wait! A frigging sword?!— propped up against one of the white pillars of the pavilion.

Why was there a shitty sword involved in this meeting, dammit?!

She gulped, took a step back, and rubbed her eyes— not necessarily in that order. There he was, that dratted second prince! He had his back towards her, which Joe was strangely thankful for, because she was pretty certain that she was making quite an incredible face right now.

Well, first impressions are important. Especially for life-and-death situations such as these. Joe schooled her expression into one of neutral politeness with some difficulty, and mentally reviewed her agenda once more.

Treat the second prince with as much courtesy as humanly possible. Make sure he knows that Joanna Winsten is not his enemy. Do not, under any circumstances, make it seem like you are interested in him (romantically or otherwise). Your interest in him goes about as deep as a salesman and a potential paying customer. Try to get him to cancel the engagement. If possible, try to be unladylike and unattractive. Channel your inner troglodyte. (BUT DO NOT BE IMPOLITE!) See point 2 for further clarification. Repeat points 1 through 3 in a steady rhythm until he grows mildly bored with you. (BUT DO NOT BE IMPOLITE!) Befriending him is also an option, but not recommended. Try to get hold of a weakness… Some blackmail material, if you will. Highly recommended! If all else fails, run. RUN! (Remember to swipe one of the lemonade scones from the table; Lady Joanna said they were delicious.)

P.S: Stay away from the sword.

“Flawless list, if I have ever seen one.” The villainess drawled inside her head, like she was completely unrelated to the mess. “No matter, I am naturally so beautiful that you might have a hard time trying to make me come off as unattractive. Ha Ha!”

‘Mmm, I wonder what I should do about that.’ Joe pretended to think. ‘Maybe I should pick my nose in public? Scratch my butt? Make a satisfying burp after I finish gobbling up those fruit cakes?’

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you ever dare, you ass!”

The girl ignored the voice and stepped forth towards the prince. He was hunched over the table and humming a strange tune— wait, were those blueberry scones over there?! Joe scowled. She hadn’t even begun the introductions and her list was already crumbling apart!

“Greetings, Your Highness Prince Emmanuel.” Joe pinched her heavy, many-layered skirt and bowed into a low curtsey. Her heartbeat sounded as if it was going over hundred miles an hour. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance. I am Joanna Valeria Winsten, firstborn of the main house of Winsten Clan.”

There was a startled rustle from the chair in front of her. Joe, who had bowed so low that she could only see her fancy shoes and the tufts of grass around them, guessed that the prince was not expecting her to sneak up from behind. She licked her lips nervously, waiting for his reaction.

“E-Eh? Wait a minute— !” Came a rather confused reply. “Joey?!”

What?!

Joe snapped her head up so fast that she almost had a whiplash.

…Only to find a painfully familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at her.

Sitting on the garden chair, donned in a blue velvet vest, expensive black pants, and a gobsmacked look on his stupid face was the last person she’d ever expected to meet in this glittering palace.

Niel.