As Eliza sat in the bathtub, Verena gently scrubbing her long brunette locks, she silently dreaded the prospect of attending the breakfast with the king and the crown prince.

 Perhaps the anxiety of seeing her prospective groom made her go weak in the knees?

Oh come on, who was she kidding. She didn't give a fig about what the most eligible bachelor of the season across the continent thought of her. No, she had more pressing matters to worry about. 

The prospect of having a certain overbearing, excruciatingly rich and influential aunt breathing down her neck all season long didn't exactly thrill her. And to think that she would have to execute her plans under the scrutiny of her sharp-eyed aunt did make her go weak in the knees. 

Dread filled her, but she wasn't the one to quit. No, she didn't have another choice. She wouldn't let some godforsaken self-centered roguish lord take what is hers. Yardwell is her estate. She couldn't let it be ruled by a master who didn't care about its people. Its vast, beautiful lands. And suddenly, she felt all the more determined. 

"Verena, do get me dressed in a red day wear. I wish for red today."

"As it pleases you, milady."

Because red is the color of love, sensuality and hedonism, and from this very day, it would be her color. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eliza descended the stairs, a constant fear of tripping on the long hem of her gown forcing her into walking at a snail's pace. She had to admit, her new for-a-month ladies maid was indeed a talent house. She had wanted to look quite a wanton sensation, the extreme kind of it. 

The one that can indulge in blasphemous activities at any time of the day, as good as in the morrow amidst chirping birds and church masses. 

She was dressed in a dark pink day dress, so dark that it nearly passed for red, if not for the tinge of white in it, which made the difference. Verena had in her silent-non silent way protested against it, but of course she did not give in. 

Her neckline was deep, far deeper than what society back in Demonire would deem appropriate. She had to make sure that nothing was left for the imagination of the onlooker, exposing herself in every way possible.

She did not like it. But, stubborn and hard-headed as she was, she was not going to admit it. Even to herself. It was a necessary segment of her poorly laid out plan, but she had to play the part. She reached the bottom of the staircase but did not know where to go. 

If only she had paid any attention to Verena's instructions, she would not have landed in another predicament. 

But nonetheless, she was here and had to figure out a way to reach the breakfast hall.  

She desperately looked for a servant passing by, so she could ask the way up to the hall. Judging by the fact that no other debutante was around, she knew she was late. 

Ah, the best way to cast first impressions. 

She slowly descended the short wing of stairs that lead to the main hall and tried her luck by turning eastwards, in search of the servant's quarters. She was looking about herself, searching for a door that could possibly lead to the servant's quarters. After walking past the long passage, Eliza arrived at a crossroad. Not wanting to go wrong, she chose the right side. It led to a wider passage, with flower pots lined up, one after the other. 

Damn, how many passages does this infernal palace have? 

She turned around, panic slowly creeping its way in her heart. She made a sharp turn and collided with a wall. But surprising, this wall was softer and magically, didn't injure her as her previous collisions with stone walls had.

Oh, did Warnia have soft walls?

"No, Warnia just has muscular and well-built royalty," the wall answered. 

Walls can talk...Oh no silly, this is not a wall, but a man you have ran into, her mind chastised her. 

Cognizance dawned upon her and she raised her head, just to find dazzling and mischievous emerald orbs staring at her.  No, they weren't pure emerald. She could figure a pinch of gold in them. 

Pure, mystical, royal eyes. 

Wait...royal eyes? Is that even a thing?

"Where have your senses gone, you silly chit. Don't you realise that the man said royalty", her mind scolded her, again. And she was transported back again to the real world, and awareness of her surroundings kicked in.

Along with embarrassment.

She quickly backed off. "My apologies, my lord. I...I..."

"You don't need to apologize, just need to realize that these tricks won't work with me," a deep, pure male voice greeted her. But what was that she could sense in his voice, irritation?

"Pardon me but, what?"

"I do like seduction, but not during an ongoing season, especially from a participating debutante. I do hope you get the point. Or else, I would be forced to..."

"Excuse me...but it is not how the situation looks like. You see, my lord I was..."

"Now, now I understand your predicament at being caught at your supposed innocent act of seduction. You don't need to weave a false story in your defense."

The nerve of the man!!! Suggesting that I have ulterior motives and plan to seduce him!  What nonsense.

Anger bubbled within her, and as she saw the infernal man leaving, she roughly caught the man by his arm and made him face her. 

Huh, royalty or not, this arrogant man would receive a piece of her mind. His royalty could very well be damned! If he is 'royalty', then so am I.

"You don't listen to people, do you? I have been, from a long time trying to explain you that I truly was lost. And instead of helping, you choose to fly accusations at me. And of all the things, seduction!! I don't even know you!" The man opened his mouth to speak, but Eliza raise her had to silence him. The man raised his eyebrow. 

"You sir, are an arrogant man, and gentry or not, need to be put in place. You..."

"Your Highness, everybody awaits your presence to start with the breakfast," a servant, who had appeared from the direction of the Royal Gardens, told the man, whilst bowing deeply.

"Has His Majesty come down?" the man asked, not taking his eyes off her. His gaze was neither accusing nor angry. Simply piercing. She knew she should cower down, feel afraid. But she didn't. She felt weak, not due to fear, but something else. And she found herself staring back.

"Yes, Your Highness, His Majesty has."

"Very well, Barto. But before that kindly escort this lady to the breakfast table. It seems that she has lost her way."

"Certainly, Your Highness. This way, my lady," Barto the servant said. She knew she had to curtsy, but she didn't. She gathered her skirts and swiftly started walking in the direction Barto had indicated. 

Barto's eyes went wide with the open show of disrespect to the royal prince, but it wasn't his place to correct the said lady. He obediently followed suit.

After walking for a while and regaining her composure, she was able to think clearly. She whisked around and asked the silent servant, "Barto, is it?"

Bowing deeply he replied, "At your service, mi senora."

Elizabeth nodded. "You seemed to have called the lord over there Your Highness. Is he truly the Crown Prince of Warnia?"

"Indeed, mi senora. His Highness is to be the next monarch of Warnia."

Eliza paled. 

He really was royalty. She surely had a way to land herself into trouble. Her plate of trouble hadn't been cleaned as of yet, and she had chosen to help herself with another serving.

How greedy she had become!! 

Taking up a feud with the Crown Prince himself. 

How charming. Note the sarcasm.

The first impressions had truly been impeccable, she was sure of that. She suddenly felt sick and didn't want to attend the blasted breakfast party.  But there was no choice. She had to be there, smiling and simpering like a fool. 

Eliza thus drew in a breath, and continued walking.

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