Scattering like ants, servants panic, dropping everything in hand to empty all the vases in the grand hall.
“Shame more people don’t think like the Queen,” I tease, approaching the table she’s examining swatches of fabric at. “Would have saved you some energy from losing your temper if they all had a mind like yours.” I offer a bow once she sees me, before picking up an azalea that has yet to be sentenced to its fiery fate.
“Ha.” Her dour laugh makes no attempts at caring for my humor as she holds out a piece of sapphire blue fabric with a gold diamond pattern for her lady-in-waiting to take. “I have yet to show them a memorable temper. I don’t think it’s difficult to select the right flower. We filled the grounds with hydrangeas. One would think it would be a mindless task to clip them and put them in water.” Done with the swatches, she gets up and starts inspecting the silverware.
“I think they’re quite pretty, if you ask me.” I twirl the stem, watching the white petals dance between my fingertips. “Some might say prettier than our kingdom’s flower.”
She cuts her eyes at me mischievously. “Don’t be a fool. Plus, I imagine you’ve seen prettier ones with all the places you’ve ventured to.” She waves her hand, releasing her lady-in-waiting. “Tell me, what did your father want?”
Growing up, I would have described my parents’ marriage as an envious one. Never perfect, but always balanced. With the blazing temper my mother can carry and my father’s calming—sometimes almost too slackened—demeanor, their alliance was destined to be a testy one. Sometimes there were days when they couldn’t stand the sight of each other, but it never once got in the way of the crown. Even in their deepest anger, they have always remained loyal to each other.
“He’s heard whispers of great treasures in the south,” I answer, only excluding part of the truth. Unsure of how much he’s told people about this mythical flower, I try to keep most of the details to myself. “He just wants me to do a bit of research and find out how true some rumors are.”
“So, he hasn’t mentioned anything about me?” She examines my face like she’s waiting for any detection of a lie.
Chuckles release when I see the worry on her face. “No. Should he have told me something about you? Have you been up to no good?”
Worry melts away and her posture loosens. “I’m always up to no good. But I have something planned and I don’t need that big mouth father of yours to go spilling it.”
Footsteps trail in behind me.
“Your Majesty, and His Royal Highness.” Miriam, my mother’s head lady-in-waiting and first cousin, bows. Her hair is graying and her skin has collected a few more wrinkles since I last saw her before my most recent exploration. She smiles, rising from her curtsy. “Your request is complete, ma’am. They…it awaits you in the greeting room.”
My mother claps her hands, braids bouncing when she jumps with excitement. “You”— she pushes me to the nearest exit—“go get ready for the party tonight. I must attend to prior commitments.” A sudden shouting travels in from beyond the garden windows. “Before you do that, go check on your brother. I can’t imagine what he’s doing.”
“Which one?”
She squints towards the window as we hear more shouting and we both know she is referring to Deean.
“I thought his antics would grow thinner with age, but that boy knows exactly how to do all the wrong things.” She gives my left shoulder a squeeze and then follows Miriam out of the room.
I’m tempted to leave Deean to his mischief, but no matter how hard I try to fight it, I always seem to do as I’m told. Even as a grown-ass man.
Warmth coats me once I pass through the wide doors that open into the great hall. They lead me to the palace gardens. A trickling of water sounds in the distance providing extra serenity amongst the array of colors. Once I hit the fountains, my inner calms disappear as my ears pound with more shouting.
The scent of rose infused with orange peel permeates the air, and I’m certain small notes of cinnamon and clove mix with it—a scent I’ve smelled a hundred times.
To the left, near one of the open fields, I spot Deean who carries a crossbow in his right hand and a glass containing a deep red liquid in the other. The drink is also the source of the smell. As usual, he entertains a couple women, both perking up with my approach.
“Ladies, let me introduce you to my younger brother and your Prince, Iann.” He leans in close to one of the women, hovering just above a deep slit of cleavage. There are streaks of pink shimmering in her wavy brunette hair and her eyes appear cut with emeralds. “The explorer I told you about.” She bites the corner of her lip and gives a slow bow, never breaking eye contact with me.
“Pleasure.” I force a half-hearted smile. “Would you both mind leaving us for a minute? There is something important I need to discuss with my brother?”
They stay silent, and even if they want to, they know they can’t refuse without repercussions. Both offer another bow before they leave us.
“So, what would you like to talk about?” Deean spins, chugging his wine.
“Nothing.” Heat seeps through my pants as I sit on the stone flower bed. “Mother was worried.”
He takes a seat next to me and hands me his drink. The blend smells too tempting not to try and even though it’s early in the morning, I take a sip of the mulled wine and enjoy the spice that burns my throat.
Breathing heavily, he looks out over the grounds. “Mother is always worried. Especially when you’re not here. She always expects the worst.” He takes back his cup and chugs some more. “Can I ask for a favor?”
I shrug. “Do you deserve one?”
“You’ve been gone for months and this is the attitude you return with.” A sly grin creeps across his face. “The place father is sending you, I want to come this time.”
My head cocks to the side as he holds the same sly grin, with two of the faintest dimples resting on either side of his cheeks. “Why do you think father is sending me somewhere? I just got back.”
