1

It was hard to miss the lone traveller galloping his horse at full speed towards the pearly gates of the Fronton Palace. The palace was a stunning, marble clad place with lush gardens and views over the cliff face the castle was built on. The palace may have looked breathtaking in red and gold hues of the sunset but it was obvious from the rider's expression that he wasn't in the mood to admire the beauty.

The man furiously urged his horse forward as he rode into the palace gates. Startled guards immediately came forward as the blond haired man jumped off his horse; his deep blue cloak impressively flowing with his movement. The man was of medium build and height but the sheer arrogance he held himself with made other's feel like he towered over them.

The young man stormed towards the entrance barely greeting the skeletal man who seemed to be waiting for him.

"I came as soon as I received your missive, uncle," The man spoke in a clipped fashion.

"You can see what ruckus is being created behind your back, prince," The prince's uncle dismissively gestured at the elaborate decorations in the corridor.

"If I hadn't seen this I wouldn't have believed it," The prince answered with a sneer also observing the festivities, "Mother has gone too far."

"This abominable behaviour should be stopped. Your parents shouldn't expect you to cater to their each and every whim. You are the crown prince," His pale uncle made an elaborate gesture to signify this. Usually the man amused the prince but today he was glad he had a firm ally.

"Indeed, uncle. I shouldn't have let them conduct the ball in the first place," The prince spoke with gritted teeth as he paced forward in long strides.

"Ah, yes, my prince you are far too kind. You should have asked them to cease this nonsense once and for all. You are merely four and twenty; you can't be expected to marry a girl this soon."

The prince slowed down as he remembered something.

"The girl, have you seen her."

"Seen her, my dear prince, who could have missed her fawning over your poor mother at the ball? An unsightly thing with dark hair; nothing like the bevy of beauties you like to keep company with. Not the diamond of the finest water, I can assure you."

The prince grunted in displeasure but made no comments so his uncle took the liberty to continue with his slander.

"A plain face, a dim witted expression; I couldn't think of anyone more unsuited for your station then this drab thing. Her family isn't even in the higher circles of nobility. Her father is merely a common baronet. She has nothing to bring to this marriage; absolutely nothing."

"Uncle, where is mother. I must see her immediately."

"She is in the blue parlour having her evening tea. I daresay she'll be shocked to see you."

The prince remained silent but he nodded and turned towards a connecting corridor that would eventually lead him towards his mother. The prince possessed a sharp eye but he completely missed the small smile forming on his uncle's face.

The prince tried to calm himself as he got closer to the parlour's entrance but he couldn't dispel the frenzy in his whole body. He wanted to act calm and rational and not scare his dear mother with his temper but he couldn't.

He barged into the room as he was accustomed to and his mother promptly spilt her tea in reaction to it. The prince resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the frail thing that was his mother let out a feminine shriek that could have been of either delight or horror.

"Damian, my dear Damian, you shall have a long, long life because I was just mentioning you."

Prince Damian quickly scanned the room and to his relief the room was empty. He assumed his mother had taken up talking to herself.

"I want to speak to you, mother," He spoke with urgency in his voice that his mother completely failed to see as she closed her arms around his shoulders.

"Did you not see the grand decorations in the corridors? My decorators have done me proud; the ball finale is going to be a success." She smiled at him and for a few moments Damian wanted to crumble his ego and anger just to keep that smile on her face but his temper reared its ugly head once again clouding his thoughts.

He turned away from her and spoke once again, "I refuse, mother."

"Refuse what, darling?" His mother's voice was now concerned.

"This grand marriage you're planning without my consent, behind my back," The prince walked forward so he could rest his hand against the wall.

"I never meant to make you think I was doing anything behind your back. Nothing has been decided or arranged, Damian. I just want you to meet her," She implored in her gentle voice.

"I am not interested, mother. Not in getting married to her or even meeting her. Why couldn't you have told me before making plans?"

"I have written to you countless times urging you to come back from your hunt but I received only short replies from your cousin that you did not wish to be disturbed," She sounded distraught.

The prince frowned. He knew he had given the orders but he did not think his cousin would follow his orders enough to hide letters from his mother. His cousin was steadily growing into a pest and he needed to be taken care of but first he needed to pull himself out of this dilemma.

"I'm sorry, mother, but I was not in the mood to attend this ridiculous farce of a ball knowing that I didn't want to choose any of these so called beauties. I'm not ready to take up a wife."

"I know, Damian, you never had to choose anyone at all. A bit of a dance and talk couldn't have killed you unlike that boar hunt you went to. I knew this ball wasn't going to be fruitful without you but I was determined to go through any potential brides and then I found her. Nobody could have been more perfect for you."

"Perfect, mother," The prince spat as he turned around to face her, "From what I've heard she's ugly and plain and incredibly dim. I can't think of a worse person to marry me. If you can't have chosen someone smart at least someone with some amount of looks would have been adequate."

As the prince paused he thought he saw a movement in the corner of the eye but he dismissed it as one of the flowing curtains.

"Don't be too hasty to judge her like this. Give her a chance, Damian," His Mother's voice was clogged and wet.

"Mother, what is wrong with your taste. I can't believe we're having this conversation. Why do you think a pauper of a girl with nothing to recommend herself could be worthy of my station. I am to be king and she certainly isn't good enough to be my queen," Damian paused from his impassioned speech, "How far have you gone with this?"

"The ball is still ongoing so I haven't made any announcements because they're usually left till after the last dance but I believe I've made my preference known to everyone."

The prince refused to look into his mother's watery eyes. She was a beautiful woman whose appearance even at five and forty was impeccable. He colouring was pale and as a child he had thought she looked like a faded angel. He had taken after her, though everything he possessed was sharper and brighter. His eyes were a much stronger blue and his hair a more striking blond. He wanted to comfort her but his ego was too vile to let him.

"Resolve this, mother," Damian asked shaking in head and left the room.

Once outside he thought he heard something but he assumed his mother was speaking to herself again.

It was only at the fifth dinner that the queen had taken notice of her. Delilah had been standing in a corner just after the evening dances had begun. Her dancing card was empty and she knew it was too late to be asked for a dance. Men apparently wanted a dancing partner with lively manners and sparkling eyes. One young man who had danced with her on the very first dance had called her a cold beauty. He was obviously trying to say something complimentary about her grey eyes but she couldn't see how being called cold was pleasant.

After the initial dances all the young people had gotten to know each other and all those testing waters with Delilah seemed to have found her unsatisfactory. She had wit but it needed time to surface in front of new people and besides her mother had strictly forbidden her to be frank with the Nobles. Since she lacked the capacity to regurgitate flowery untruths about people she had decided to keep her mouth shut. That had unwittingly made more of the wallflower.

She had been about to search the room for a quieter sitting place when she was tapped on the back of her shoulder.

"Bored, my dear," A voice came from behind her.

"Very," Delilah spoke mournfully, instinctively and then instantly clamped up.

Her horror increased manifold when she turned and found herself facing the queen. Delilah quickly bowed.

"It does start to look the same after a while," The queen answered in her own gentle voice. To Delilah's relief the queen didn't look the least bit offended.

"I might just have to organize a garden party in the east garden with some fire charmers to get away from this stagnation," the Queen continued.

"But doesn't the wind blow from the east during the evenings. The fire charmers wouldn't be very successful," Delilah added her opinion while she berated herself for being a blabber mouth.

The queen looked at her and she suddenly smiled.

"How absurd it is that I forgot such a crucial detail. That wind would certainly ruin everything though I am still tempted. How fun would it be to see the ladies trying to keep their clothing from flying them off? Lady Dalhousie's clothes certainly look like they would take flight even in this gentle breeze."

Delilah looked in the direction of the queen's gaze and Lady Dalhousie's ridiculous 5 tiered gown certainly looked part of a flying contraption.

"And they look flammable as well," Delilah added still feeling like the need to cringe every time she opened her mouth but the queen's gentle manners put her at ease.

The Queen shook her head, "Well, that ruins my plans for entertaining the guests with fire charmers. How in the world did you know how the wind flows in this place?"

"I like the east gardens. They're good for an evening stroll and I'm not so unobservant to not notice which direction my dress wants to fly off in," Delilah answered. The queen continued to smile at her until a certain Lady interrupted them to congratulate the queen on another successful evening of merriment.

"I have never seen such a stupendous success in my entire life," The Lady prattled easily lacing her comments with high praise, "And where is Prince Damian? I remember what a darling boy he was; Sarah, my daughter, often speaks of him fondly."

The queen was polite and gracious, "Why, thank you, for your kind compliments. Damian has certainly grown up from the last time as you could have seen from his portrait hanging in the stair way. Unfortunately he won't be joining us this evening."

The duke's wife's shoulders drooped but she found the painting another topic that could stretch out the conversation.

"He certainly has grown up to a fine, handsome young man."

"He has, hasn't he," The queen asked and it took Delilah a few moments to realize she was the one being questioned.

The Lady's eyebrows rose as she noticed the attention being put on the girl.

Delilah shrugged awkwardly, "I think he looks very fine in his green cap."

Both ladies in front of her looked confused, "My dear, the painting you are referring to is of Damian's grandfather," The queen looked thoroughly amused after the confusion passed.

"Oh," Delilah muttering vowing to herself to get a good look at the Prince's portrait. She ignored how the grand Lady tittered at her stupidity.

After the dances were over and the Queen bid her farewell Delilah passed by the staircase and paused in front of what seemed to be Prince Damian's painting. He had great a likeness to the queen but that in no way made his features feminine. He had an angular face and very striking blue eyes. He was a very handsome man and she could see why so many women were eager to catch a glimpse of him. It was odd that at a Ball in his honour he wasn't even present. That unsettled Delilah and when she saw his painting and the sheer arrogance he held himself in it she felt she had inkling of why he wasn't there. The man was obviously too proud to mingle with anyone.

She got more hints about the prince's absence and his personality over the various other functions the Queen organized. The Queen seemed to favour her company and consequently Delilah rose in popularity. She was asked for dances and suddenly invited to exclusive soirées. A few women would often boldly hint that the Queen wanted her to be her son's wife.

Delilah tried to ignore these hints but that seed of suggestion was powerful. She sometimes felt the same when the Queen would talk about the crown prince with a knowing smile on her face. Delilah started to feel inexplicably shy and self conscious whenever anyone mentioned the Prince. It was so silly would to feel so nervous about a man she had never even met.

The Queen asked her to tea occasionally with a group of wives of the highest of ranking nobility but when she was asked for tea in the Queen's private parlour on that dreadful day Delilah was surprised to find herself the only guest.

Queen Rosemary had greeted her and asked her to sit down. The maids made them tea and left them to their own devices.

"Turn around, my dear. Behind you is something that you don't want to miss."

Delilah was flabbergasted to see such a stunning view behind her. Delilah's own rooms at the castle opened towards the north and that view could not compete with the one in front of her.

Upon seeing the open balcony doors Delilah asked for permission to go outside.

The Queen smiled at her request, "I knew you would appreciate it. None of my other guests find they can take their eyes off the expensive furniture or the cushion covers. Go on, my dear, I know you can barely resist."

Once she was outside she and the Queen made some small talk as they walked along the balcony. The Queen pointed out some of the mountains and plants growing in the balcony.

"Damian loves the outdoors. The boy would live in a tent if he could manage," The older woman spoke fondly of her son. The Royal looked down at her empty teacup, "Ah, and my tea finished just as soon as the sky is taking its last performance of the day."

As Delilah admired the sunset the door of the parlour slammed open. She moved closer to see what was wrong as the Queen seemed to have broken something.

Her grey eyes widened as she noticed Prince Damian walking in the room. She felt her cheeks go red at the thought of meeting the man. All the innuendos thrown at her over the weeks suddenly became very real. She could see he was very attractive and wondered self consciously if he would find her the same. These thoughts vanished the instant she overheard bits and pieces of the conversation inside the room.

Delilah's hand trembled as she opened a window pane just a little bit to hear more clearly.

"She's ugly and plain and incredibly dim. I can't think of a worse person to marry me. If you can't have chosen someone smart at least someone with some amount of looks would have been adequate," The Prince shouted in an ugly fashion and Delilah felt her heart break.

She tried to swallow away the lump in her throat but it was impossible.

"Why do you think a pauper of a girl with nothing to recommend herself could be worthy of my station. I am to be king and she certainly isn't good enough to be my Queen," The man spoke bitterly.

Delilah tried to blink back the tears but they traitorously slid down her face.

As the Prince closed the door behind him when he left, the Queen sat down on her sofa, trembling.