The ladies stood the same as before, in a line and to the left of Lady Delphi. The carriage was ready to go, and Chammielle dared hope the Prince would not speak of their time together alone. To anyone. If he was an honest person, perhaps he would in good company. But oh! She prayed he would not divulge such things to a gossip.

He'd pretended their walk had gone smoothly, brightening as they came out from the line of trees. He'd thanked her for her beautiful poetry and even asked if she could share some more with him at a later date. The girls took no notice of her cautiousness and asked the Prince more questions, even inviting him to come again before their mother had arrived. Now, he was leaving.

"Lady Kuchen, I so enjoyed my time with your charming daughters. My day has been quite eventful, and I am saddened to depart so soon. Please give my regards to Lord Kuchen."

Lady Delphi inclined her head prettily, her age simply magnifying her regal and lovely appearance. Chammielle wished she at least looked like her even ten years later. The triplets clearly took after her, but she dared not hope to be that beautiful.

"Thank you, your highness. I know you must have a busy schedule. Hopefully we provided you with a small respite from your taxing work."

"To serve the kingdom is nothing, but I must say I was quite...inspired."

As part of ceremony, he stepped forward and did a light bow holding the matron's hand. Then came down the line to kiss each of the girl's hands. By the time he reached Chammielle, she'd almost forgotten she wasn't wearing gloves.

His hand was soft as any nobles', but held strength and even a very faint roughness as it sent warmth up her arm and into her belly. His lips came to the top of her hand and it was akin to hearing thunder close by rolling through her. Her painted on smile of serenity melted away and her lips parted in surprise. What was happening to her today?

It seemed to last longer than the others, but that had to be wrong. His breath hit her skin as his mouth departed from her hand, a tingling sensation radiated through her fingers. They twitched and his thumb smoothed over them as he straightened.

A small smile pulled at the right of his mouth and his eyes sparkled. Quickly she realized her mouth was open and she closed it, averting her eyes. What was wrong with her?

Lady Delphi Kuchen was positively glowing, some of her girlish youth rekindling at the sight of the Prince kissing the hands of her daughters. She was positively beaming with pride. Of course she would be, there wasn't a chance he wasn't going to pick anyone but Aster. She was easily the prettiest girl in half the kingdom, and lovelier than most of the nobles.

Chammielle kept her smile simple, poised. This didn't mean anything. She was not going to be his choice.

They exchanged pleasantries, and she was forced to prolong her eyes wandering the treeline. Her stupid heart was thumping so loudly she couldn't hear the birdsong. This prince really needed to learn not to manipulate women with his charms. Especially ones he had no intention of actually courting.

False hope was worse than misery.

She only looked back once she heard the hinges of the carriage door. His eyes moved away from her and down to the stepping stool, a tease of a smile on his lips. He was too dashing for his own good.

His baby blue coattails curled behind him. The door clicked to a close. The horses whinnied and pranced. And then there was nothing but a trail of dust to remind her they had been there. That and the tingling in her hand.

"Girls, I do believe you've all left a marvelous impression on the Crown Prince. Positively wonderful. Such a handsome young man, as well..."

As visions of beautiful princes and princesses for grandchildren were before Lady Delphi Kuchen's eyes, Chammielle only thought her nieces and nephews had better not be so fickle. A flirt was just that. A flirt. And it did nobody any good with out the ability to follow through.

Romance was for those who could afford it. Those who gave favors to the Queen for a match they desired. Not for her.

No. Never for her.

...

"How was your time with the Kuchen Ladies, your highness?"

William was leaned back on his side of the carriage, the light rocking seeming to jostle him from his mood. His cousin, the Duke of Columbine, was sitting across from him with a look. A look of mischief? Perhaps of some other nature. A bit more cheeky. His lace cuffs in all their volume made him look like a prat.

"The triplets were all lovely ladies, as I'm sure you already know from your intelligence operatives, Alfric."

The Duke rolled his eyes.

"Oh please. You've been moaning over these provencal visits for months. Tell me what you really thought of them. The road is too bumpy, the coachman cannot hear you."

His finger played over his lower lip. The memory still clinging to it and his hand.

"Alright, I thought they were very sincere, but nothing more than pretty flowers."

The brunette snickered and put his fist to his mouth, a piece of hair escaping his ribbon tied ponytail.

"That's the cousin I know. But flowers are lovely things, and one must learn to stop and smell the roses. You especially, dear William, with all the anxiety you're sure to face upon your coronation. Preferably a good flower, but flowers they all are."

His eyes closed and he shook his head. His mind was still elsewhere. Trying to remember a pattern of dots.

"Did you hear me? Where are you? Were the ladies so vigorous in their idle chatter you've become exhausted?"

He smirked and then heard an aha from the other side. His eyes met with the giddy looking culprit.

"You've got that look. One of those flowers caught your eye, you sly man. Out with it! What is this budding romance I see? What's her name?"

He waved him off, but it was no use.

"I told you the moment I thought Bedellia Lancashire was adorable and begged you to tell the Queen to match us up. It is time for you to give some of those details and speculations you have swimming around your head to your best friend. Let it out. What's she like, your flower?"

His hand rested at his mouth, and he realized there really was something. Something more than intriguing. More than lovely. And feisty. And bold. He quite liked her. He wanted to spend more time with her, and try not to get on her bad side. But also make her angry so she can tell him off again. He wasn't so accustomed to being verbally reprimanded. And she did it with such flair...

"Who knows what sort of flower she will be...but I do know her petals are variegated."

"Variegated? What? Like two colors to her personality? I do hope you're not interested in someone who is touched in the mind, cousin. I knew a knight whose wife became like that. Tragic story. He still loves her to this day. And she's tried to kill him three times this year."

"No, no, you misunderstand. She's very different. That's all I'm saying. Peculiar and scintillating. She told me off so elegantly I wanted to hear her scold me some more. Very well read and talented as well."

He couldn't help but smile now.

"So, you've made your choice? That's it? The last house on our trek and you already know who you want by your side until kingdom come? I knew you liked to put things off, but you just had to find someone interesting on the last day?"

William let his cousin go on for a mile or two as he contemplated her looks and smiles. Her wit was a great deal of her charm, and he wanted to pick at her brain. Hear what she thought of the world. Anyone who liked the works of Mezastolz had to have a sharp mind. But while all of these were endearing, the warmth of her skin dotted with thousands of tiny brown stars filled his mind. He'd like to map them.

He shook his head at where his thoughts were going. She'd trounced him well enough already. Still, he liked her. Far more than any young woman he'd met. Ever.

There wasn't a chance he'd ever get bored looking at her face. The severity of her stare, the golden glow of her eyes. It was exquisite. And so was the rest of her.

"Oh, I get it. I've lost you. You're in love and planning the honeymoon already. I understand, don't mind me, your cousin and best friend... I'll just read and distract myself from my perpetual bachelorhood."

He smirked at him for that. Alfric always was a whiner.

"You feel ill when you read in the carriage."

"Yes. Yes I do. But at least it's entertainment since I am being abandoned in my current loveless state while your mind is off to marital bliss."

He sighed and pulled the upside down tome from his eccentric cousin's hands.

"I'm not saying I'm in love like you are. Tell me more about Lady Lancashire. Maybe I'll get a clearer picture of what this love business is about."

And with that, he didn't have to say another word the rest of the ride.

...

"Oh! Chammielle! The Prince was so utterly enchanting!"

She smirked at the teenaged girls as they pranced about the garden. Hand in hand, wearing their dresses from earlier trying to savor and prolong the moment. Chammielle had changed. Her chemise and skirt with a much looser embroidered bodice made reading on the lawn so much more comfortable.

"He really was! Oh! And he asked about all of us on our walk."

Aster leaned in and touched noses with her.

"Really? What did you say?"

"Well I didn't know why he was asking at the time, but I'm quite satisfied with my answer. I told him you and I are the best of friends, and sometimes father takes me with you on your trips to the bakery. You're always thinking up new recipes and we try them out for you."

Chammielle tilted her head so her temple rested upon one knuckle.

"Again with the baking..."

"He liked it very much. Said when we come to the palace you should have a tour of the kitchens. We can all enjoy your creations together."

She smiled at the thought. A royal kitchen... She supposed they even had golden whisks.

"I would like that very much..."

Ianthe flounced down beside Aster, a rose petal being rubbed between her fingers.

"He also said we should hold a small concert when we're all there. He can't play a single instrument but I told him about your composing and that the three of us sing to your playing sometimes."

"A concert? At the palace? Us?"

She tilted her head to the side, "Well, he said the Dowager Queen particularly likes piano. And I don't want to sing off key again. So, you really."

Chammielle groaned but then Chryssia descended upon them as well, grabbing one of her reddish curls to play with as she lay beside Ianthe.

"Oh! And his sister, Princess Tulip, will want to hear your epic you wrote last year. His highness went on about all the books about adventure he's had to read to her, so I told him about yours with the griffen and castle fortress in the clouds that held the tree of eternal youth."

She had planned to stay out of the way the week before the Prince's wedding. But now it was clear that would be entirely impossible. They meant well, she knew, but her sisters could be so clueless about her feelings sometimes. Though that was her own fault really.

Chammielle flipped onto her back with her book over her face to cover it. The coming weeks would be the last she had of peace before they left for the high courts of Garten's Pink Palace. And oh how she wished they would last.

At least she would be doing the things she loved. Tea parties and baking, playing and reading, all wonderful ways to pass the time. She'd have to endure some interesting company and be on her best behavior, of course, but what else was there?

Really, how bad could it be?