SPECIAL 1

"I do not think this is a good idea," Delilah worried her lip nervously. They were leaving the boundaries of her home's gardens on a walk. Delilah's father had deemed the need for a chaperone unnecessary so they were mercifully alone. Or so he thought.

"Why not? I'm sure your brother courted his wife in a similar approach. I was told this was the norm," Damian answered impetuously.

"Ah, but my brother is not the Prince and no one was interested in his walks, "Delilah looked sideways and muttered, "We're being followed."

"Are we?" Damian was perplexed. "Should I brandish my sword to protect the fair maiden?"

"No, no but if you look closely there are three people hidden behind rose bush and the bridge we just crossed had at least a few people hidden under it," Delilah whispered and leaned in closer to conceal their conversation.

"I am looking closely," Damian replied hoarsely, feeling cross eyed at her proximity. He had eyes only for her. The Lady he was trying to woo was not pleased.

"If you cannot see people trying to spy on us I wonder what you will do with this country," She glared at him.

"Why I shall have a wonderful marvelous spy as a wife," He smirked, "Why should I be bothered?"

"Oww," Someone screamed from behind them and both of them whirled back in shock. Beside the rose bush was their milk man holding his hand in agony. Apparently sticking your hand into thorns was not a good idea.

"I was just picking roses for my missus, Pardon me, your Highness," The man spluttered and bent so low the couple wondered if he would fall over. The man then raced away as if being chased by wild dogs.

"Hah, picking roses, indeed," Delilah scoffed, "Though he is being truthful about being on an errand for his wife. She is the most vile gossip and the poor man gets recruited into chasing new stories every week."

"I hope I shan't have to crawl though country sides trying to find out which Lord is running away with the scullery maid," Damian asked seriously.

Delilah rolled her eyes .

Damian looked woe begotten in the borrowed tweed overcoat and inferior buck-skin breeches but in spite of all his protests the fair lady would not be swayed to alter his clothing.

"Stop looking at me with such a miserable expression. You are the one who wanted to travel without the pomp and grandeur befitting the crown prince so this compromise you must make," Delilah tsked impatiently as they walked down the dirt road after dismounting from their carriage a distance away from the market they wished to explore.

"I look like I just finished hunting for truffles. All that is missing is my faithful piglet called fluffy," The man complained, "So utterly middle class."

"You couldn't possibly look middle class. There is something about the way you walk..." The Prince's companion trailed off uncomfortably with a harsh blush crawling up her neck which did not go unnoticed.

"You do know I rather like it when people compliment my gait and my good looks," Damian winked with a smarmy smile.

"Yes, yes, I am rather familiar with your likes and dislikes but we need to focus on making you look inconspicuous as possible. I do not venture out this far often but I am certain we shall blend in," Delilah gave the Prince a troubled once over, "I hope."

The farmer's market in the village a few miles east of Delilah's town was a melting point of many cultures especially due to the proximity to the eastern borders. People of all shapes and sizes and races were present selling from the smallest trinkets to the largest cattle.

Merchants were settled in informal columns calling down to bystanders to purchase their wares. Delilah and Damian were soon lost in the foreign merchandise.

"I was admiring this teapot and it occurred to me that your mother might find it suiting her tea table though I am not quite certain your mother likes me," The Prince uttered thoughtfully.

"Likes you? She would have you sleep in the master bedroom with her admiring your sleeping form if father had not put his foot down."

"But she hasn't spoken a word to me," Damian scratched his nose in confusion, "Such sadness, it would have been nice to harass you at odd hours if I could stay at your house."

"A very strange phenomenon to see my mother so quiet but I cannot repulse such blessings. It would have been highly inappropriate to share lodgings. It's a good thing indeed to have that outpost so close by."

"That decrepitude little thing is not fitting for my Royal rear. As a matter of fact..."

"Sshh," Delilah pounced onto his arm and pulled him away from the teapot selling merchant, "Why don't you ask the buffalo auctioneer to just announce who you are?"

"But, but, I really did want to buy the teapot. It had hand painted periwinkles and according to my mother that's a very sought after design," Damian protested sourly but let her manhandle him.

"I should rather you bought us a new cow since they cost the same as your precious tea set," The lady made a face.

"Cattle is really that cheap," The Prince asked in confusion and Delilah sighed and grumbled to herself.

The silence was deafening.

No, it really was.

And Damian was bored, miserable and Delilah was not there to brighten up the room with her fair face. Neither was her brother or any of her cousins so there was no diverting conversation to be had at the dinner table.

Delilah's mother was like a stone statue and her father seemed too embarrassed to have the conversation they were meant to be having. After a long pause the man of the house spoke once again.

"At this household," *cough* "we prize all our children," *cough* "we wish the best," *cough* "and we hope," *cough*.

And so the older gentleman continued in the same tone while his wife continued to be as emotionless as possible and Damian wanted to stab himself with the cake knife.

Thunder rumbled through the air and Delilah wondered how much longer they would need to stand under the tree that did nothing to protect them from the sharp slices of wind hammering at them.

"I distinctly remember lightening seems to be predisposed to falling on trees," She nearly shouted out for that was the only way her voice was to carry to her companion. The wind was howling like a pack of wolves.

Damian's eyes went rounder than the coins his father's face was etched on. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the tree. They were already damp but the combination of the rain and wind made them feel even more miserable.

"It should not take this long for a carriage to come back to us," The Prince placed his hand around his female companion and pulled her closer. He was using his coat as a small umbrella.

"This is one of the reason's the road needed to be built. It's virtually unusable in the rainy season," Delilah nearly knocked their heads together as she spoke.

"Oh, I can see that. I wish we had a boat. It'd much faster than a stupid horse."

"I suppose," The Lady sighed. Her planned picnic near the road construction was completely ruined, "Now that we're standing in the middle of a field with no shelter over our heads."

"We could find shelter in the farmer's cottage. I think I can see thatched roofs in a distance," Damian had to stand on his toes to see anything at all. He quickly caught Delilah's wrist so he could lead her but she did not budge. He looked back at her questioningly and she just shook her head and delicately extracted herself from his grip.

"Are you saying I cannot hold your hand? Surely not?" He asked with disbelief.

"This is not your capital where men and women hold hands and kiss each other in greeting. It is just not done here."

"They cannot begrudge a man for being comfortable holding hands with his..." Damian struggled to find a word for their existing relationship.

"Like I said the norms of courting over here are different. No banns regarding us have been published and neither have our parents formally announced anything. We will only create scandal if we are found meandering over half the hillside holding hands," Delilah took measured steps with her eyes averted. They crossed an outhouse in which they decided to take a few moments pause.

The Prince nodded and turned around as if thinking about something solemn. Delilah almost wished he had chosen some pretty, party girl with whom he could share as many kisses as he possibly could. She probably sounded like his grandmother.

The prince suddenly turned around and his eyes shone with excitement.

"It's solid gold and it is my mother's," He took off a gold chain he was wearing and pulled at it to take something out. Ultimately he ended up with a simple gold band in his palm.

"What? Are you..." Delilah took a step back as the man went down on both knees.

"Will you make this poor, sodden and wet Prince a very lucky man? When I close my eyes I can see your image painted on the back of my mind. I want to be able to open them and see you for real as well, always with me," He waited with baited breath uncertain of her answer.

"I have much to say to you and over this period of time I have found out many things about you, good and bad. I-I believe I have grown fond of you too," Delilah exhaled and took the ring he was holding out.

"That's a relief though I certainly did not think I would propose to you this soon. I was waiting for my mother but she just keeps delaying her trip," He laughed in relief and his fiancé joined in. She held out her hand and he took it to help himself up.

"Really? I did not think you were the type of man who wanted his mother around while he proposed," Delilah giggled at the mental image.

"Of course not! She has the blasted ring that I wanted for you though I am afraid you must contend with this little piece."

"I like it," His fiancé smiled up at him and held out the ring to him. He took her hand placed the simple band of gold around her finger.

"Then I like it too," Damian winked back, "So can I hold your hand now?"

"Most certainly not!" Delilah laughed as he comically made a tragic face with a pout.

"And for that I am stealing a kiss," And without warning he pecked her cheek while holding her cold, wet hands.

"That was a horrid trick!"

"You deserve it," His grin died down and he looked solemnly at the dung covered floor "I did not think you would say yes, even now. I was still not certain you liked me more than a friend."

"I would not have said yes, if I did not. You are man I admire and I can be proud of. I cannot imagine having anyone else on my side," She said ever so quietly and took his hand in hers, "I like being with you too."

"You only want me for my good looks," He beamed at her as they stepped out into the raging weather hoping to get to a cosy fire in some farmer's cottage.

"That too," Delilah smiled back.

Delilah downed the meaty broth in one go while the Prince struggled to slurp through a spoonful. All eight eyes upon his fair face watched his every move expectantly. She noticed his throat work itself and she suppressed her own burgeoning smile. Her shoulders shook from the effort.

"My Lady, you're still cold," The farmer's wife mistook her shivers. Damian made a face as soon as all the attention was removed from him. The pampered soul just could not force himself to consume the tasteless meat.

Delilah looked upwards as the roof creaked under the merciless storm. They had been truly blessed to have found shelter when they had. Even the barn would have left them exposed to the elements.

"You should reconsider, My Lady. Take our room. We would be honoured," The rotund woman pleaded. Her six children sat silently, in awe of the company. The couple had managed to dry themselves at the hearth but could not salvage their appearance. Even then they could not contain how important they looked.

"No, no, no. We cannot rob you of your peace and quiet," Delilah could not imagine being such a rude houseguest.

"Besides our men will be here as soon as they can. We shall wait in our chairs. Hopefully the storm will let up," Damian interjected as he dropped his spoon in the broth decisively. He just hoped no one insisted he finish the meal.

One by one the family bowed and left them at their leisure. As tempting as it was to sit and gawk at royalty they had an early morning ahead of them.

The couple sat down near the fireplace. Both of them chose to sit on the rough, stone floor to ensure their clothes completely dried out.

Damian suddenly plucked her hand out of her lap and tenderly examined the ring. It was an almost perfect fit on her pale finger.

"Fate was very kind to me," He spoke with a solemness she had very rarely seen him display. It unnerved her.

"Being the prince has it advantages," She replied trying to bring levity to the situation but failing.

"Undeniably. But you know what I mean. We met again only by chance. Who would have thought you would have willingly stepped back in the castle."

"I had no intentions on associating with you again if the suspicion lingers. If you hadn't been stubborn I would have never even conversed with you," Delilah replied realising what she would have lost if he hadn't pursued her.

"Then it's good thing I take after our transportation from when you were kidnapped. I just hope I do not smell as such." He took advantage of her silent laughter and let his head land on her lap while still holding her hand. He interwined it with his own and watched Delilah look discomforted. Her pale, damp face flushed to his satisfaction.

"You truly want to be mine?" He asked, anxiety still feeding his thoughts.

"Do not mistake me for a toy," Delilah deflected as her other hand gently brushed away errant hair from his forehead. He really needed a hair cut.

"It does not matter. For I am yours," Damian decided and went back to tracing her life line.

The next morning when the sun rose up the family of eight quietly tiptoed out of their home to make sure they did not disturb the sleeping guests.

"...not at home all night. What will people say. You will ruin us all," Delilah's mother hissed harshly. She continued her stern lecture as the twinkling light of dawn turned brighter.

The mother and daughter sat in the elder's private parlour. The servants had immediately informed her mother the very moment the newly engaged pair had arrived at the manor's door.

The Prince was currently in attendance with the Baron while Delilah had been led off by her mother as if she were an errant and unruly child.

Delilah sat on the silk adorned chair with a vacant expression on her face as her mother's words blurred in her mind. She was far too sleep deprived to keep track. The scant amount of sleep had not been enough.

"I can't imagine what sort of vile gossip will be uttered about us!"

"Mother, does it truly matter what anyone thinks?" Delilah interjected. She was growing weary of the acerbic speech and wanted some relief.

"Your father will be so disappointed," Her mother's lips thinned after the grim pronouncement.

Delilah for a second wondered whether her father would truly find her conduct reproachable. She had never stepped a toe out of line and did not know how her father would react. She was already despondent for worrying her family so.

"Mother can we please continue this conversation another time. I don't feel well rested enough to be awake now. We have far too many engagements for tonight and I need to rest," The girl tried to reason with her mother.

Months ago she would have let her mother go on and on but her backbone had firmed up enough to end the admonishing lecture.

"Have you no shame! They will all be talking about you. How could you dare show your face now," Her mother gasped as if seeing a befouled creature in place of her daughter.

"I dare, mother, because I have done nothing wrong," Delilah stood up. She meant to walk away, knowing she must be the one to put an end to the discussion when her mother pulled at her bejewelled hand and tugged Delilah closer.

"What is that on your finger?" The woman's voice decreased in strength. She searched her daughter's grey eyes for confirmation as her firm grip tightened around the ensnared fingers.

"An engagement ring," Delilah replied with a stony voice. She had hoped to share the news in public to avoid any immediate harassment but she had no choice now.

"They will think you are ruined..." Delilah's mother muttered.

"They, They, They! Who are these people that I must allow to judge my being? They are beneath my notice, mother," Delilah uttered as she headed towards the exit, "Damian wanted to offer for me the moment he came back. Nobody has been ruined."

"You are only acting with such arrogance just because you've snared a Prince," Delilah's mother addressed her daughter's back.

"No, mother, if Damian was a farm boy I would still say the same thing," The dark haired girl, uttered with such earnestness that her mother finally conceded defeat.

......

Damian exited the Baron's study with a silly, little smile. It told Delilah everything she wished to know. She jumped from her seated position on a bench outside the study and bestowed upon her fiance a beaming grin. The Prince's hands suddenly gripped her waist and twirled her in the air. Delilah was not certain her shriek was of delight or terror.

"What if someone saw!" The girl admonished as her feet faltered over the stone floor.

"Who cares?" Damian shrugged, easily.

"Yes," Delilah bit her lip, steadily gaining confidence, "Who cares."

She clasped her fiance's hand and entered her father's study no longer caring what anyone had to say.