5
"Have you seen her?" Delilah asked haltingly not looking up.
"No, just heard a rumour from my aunt. Someone recognized her but they were unable to pinpoint her accurately. I cannot believe she had gall to try her luck again. I would have died of shame if I were ever rejected."
Delilah fidgeted with her plate until she finally got the nerve to speak up.
"Would you mind terribly if we could walk? I was told earlier there was a smattering of Gertrude's roses in this garden. I have heard they smell divine," Delilah asked with a hopeful expression.
The girls looked confused by the request but one by one they warmed up to the idea.
"Gertrude's are the best roses found in this part of the kingdom," the petite one piped.
"This part! I have to disagree; I think they're the best in the whole of this kingdom. Have you seen the blooms they produce," One of the Gifford sisters sneered.
The ladies made their way down a scenic path and landed right in a seating area surrounded by rose vines. There were pale pink roses dotted in the green vines that climbed all the way to the top of the white gazebo.
"Oh, what a great idea this was, Lady Delilah. The roses do smell lovely," One of the quieter girls spoke up as she touched a large bloom minding the thorns.
The ladies continued with their chatter but this time Delilah decided to immerse herself in it. She even found a kindred soul in a soft spoken girl who revealed how hard a time she was having opening her mouth. They conversed about the weather and their expectations of the Ball when suddenly the shortest one in their party sat up straighter. The ladies facing Delilah also mimicked their friend unconsciously.
"I love you, Lady Delilah," One of them squeaked looking quite demented with her small, green hair accessory almost falling off.
"Why?" Delilah laughed, amused by the pronouncement, "What have I done to gain your adoration?"
"Because you have brought us right in the path of the Crown Prince!" She muttered excitedly.
Delilah turned around, and was suddenly confronted with the sight of Prince Damian walking towards them.
"Isn't this exciting?" The quiet one, Mary, uttered to Delilah barely hiding her excitement.
"Very," Delilah murmured though only for her own ears. She didn't think showing her lack of enthusiasm was going to earn her any favours. Even Cecilia would not understand her apprehension.
A shadow fell on her and Delilah knew the Prince had reached them.
"A good day is it not, my Ladies," The Prince greeted them looking far better in spirits then he was last night.
All the ladies including Delilah stood up immediately to bow in front of the man. Delilah kept her head down even after the bow not wanting to meet the man's eyes.
Lady Gifford instantly started the introductions and ended at Delilah who was standing at the corner of the group. To Delilah's dismay Cecilia let more attention fall to Delilah when she added, "My chaperon," to the introduction. The words were said almost challengingly and it was obvious Cecilia was not going to forgive the Prince any time soon.
"A bit young isn't she. I should hope nothing tragic has befallen you," A louder companion asked curiously and Delilah looked up into her eyes avoiding the Prince's completely.
"No, no, I am not a widow if that's what you're asking. I am merely a lifelong spinster. Our families thought me responsible and respectable enough to be Cecilia's chaperon."
"You're the root worshiper aren't you?" The Prince spoke up unexpectedly rudely cutting off the loud one's reply, "I can recognize a voice anywhere."
"I beg your pardon,' Cecilia asked offended before Delilah could get a word in.
"Your chaperon here likes to worship roots or so she says. I still think the crowd in the Ball room drove her to insanity."
"I am not insane," Delilah bit out still not looking up. She didn't know if she could take the mockery in his eyes.
"It's only the rest of this lot that are insane. We are merely the sane ones wrongfully tainted," The Prince sighed philosophically, uncharacteristically subdued.
Delilah felt herself going red. She wished his attention away from her especially since she could feel some of the other women seethe because of it.
Her wish was granted as the ladies around her swooped in to dig their claws into the Prince. The incessant flirting finally got to her and she strolled off away from the gazebo to admire a red rose. She followed the beautiful hedge admiring its strength and health. Little did she know the Prince had taken his leave soon after and was on the trail right behind her. It was a coincidence he found her along his intended path but it wasn't an unwelcome one.
"It's a beautiful rose, isn't it?" Damian asked from behind the dark haired woman's shoulder deliberately trying to surprise her. He remembered her reaction from last night and a small part of him was hoping he could frighten her again though a larger one was more eager to engage her in a conversation. Damian had enough conversations since the Ball had begun to know that a conversation about roots was probably the most interesting one he could have in the current atmosphere.
"Very," She replied though he could see she stiffened immediately and Damian tried to suppress his victorious smirk as she finally turned around.
He observed her features and found her different from the season's usual offering of girls. She had black hair severely tied in a bun and an incredibly pale face that contrasted with her colouring. He had already noted those factors of her appearance from when they had first been introduced but what he hadn't noticed were her fine grey eyes. They were sharp; piercing and the prince felt as if she could look right through him.
And suddenly she looked away and that's when he realized why he hadn't noticed her eyes before. He couldn't remember a moment when she looked at him directly. It was almost like she was avoiding him and that idea sounded so absurd that the prince wanted to laugh. He bit back the laughter and instead chose to smile at her pleasantly.
"It's a ruby Gertrude from the gardens of Gertrude herself. I bought it for my mother a few years back."
"How kind of you," she replied blandly as she seemed to be busy canvassing the scene behind him. The feeling that she wanted him to go away was now very pressing but the prince was undeterred.
"Yes, and I bought some cerulean Gertrudes as well," He added trying to catch her attention. He assumed that would be a topic of interest. He knew he was successful in his endeavours as her eyes met his for a brief moment. She instantly looked away trying to look as if she was looking for the blue roses but he now knew she was being hesitant to meet his eyes.
Damian titled his head as he studied her. She didn't seem shy so it could not be her nerves that were hindering the conversation. He was baffled by what it could be.
"I could show you where they are," Damian lowered his head trying to catch her eyes but she shook her head in negation her eyes firmly everywhere but on him.
"I'm sure the royal gardener would be happy to assist me," She spoke distantly. She bowed demurely and headed off in one direction. Damian was quick to follow; his longer legs catching up instantly.
"To get to those you would need to pass through a hedge maze. I don't want you getting lost in there all alone, my dear."
The addition of the terms of endearment caused another look from her and the voice in Damian's head cheered at the small victory.
"I'm sure I can manage," The girl bit out tightly, now visibly annoyed, "with the gardener."
She looked around in search of a gardener but as fate would have it there was none in the immediate vicinity.
The Prince's smile was now more of smirk as he held out his hand so he could assist her to her destination. She looked at his hand and, after a moment's pause, completely disregarded it as she bowed again.
"Then I must go back, your Highness."
For the first time the amusement lurking in the prince's eyes and face disappeared. He had never, not once in his life, been so completely utterly ignored. The lady had completely dismissed his presence and no lady in his company had ever done that. He didn't think it was possible.
Damian made a noise at the back of his throat and made the decision that he would not be ignored; not by this simpering whiff of a girl.












