The next morning, Antony woke to find the sun streaming through the window. He had slept much better than he had since the first night he had spent in king's palace.The only after-effect of his ride through the rain of the night previous was a slightly sore throat. Other than that, he felt perfectly fine.

He made his way to his office, foregoing breakfast, to work on the piles of paperwork that had grown on his desk during his absence in Jurmala.

Entering the spacious room, he pulled the drapes back from the window to let in the sunlight and sat down before his desk. He moved a few papers to the side and pulled out the map of Astoria that he kept in his top drawer.

Opening the map, he used the piles of paperwork to hold down the corners so he could clearly see the entire parchment spread.

He frowned as he took his pen and dipped it in red ink, making marks on the few border towns, including Jurmala, that had seen activity from the unknown group of people that Astoria had, for now, branded as rebels. After a few moments, he also marked the town where they had encountered the looters near the beginning of their journey. Perhaps there was some connection. At the least, they couldn't count it out as a possibility.

He leaned back in his desk chair and ran a hand through his hair, the red marks on the map standing out harshly against the tan paper.

He was startled by a soft knock on the door. He sat up a bit straighter and rolled the map back up, placing it back in the drawer he had pulled it from.

"Come in," he said, simply, retrieving one of the stacks of documents that sat near the edge of his desk.

The door opened and Meredith entered, bearing a tray of breakfast items.

"You're bringing me breakfast now?" Antony said, raising his eyebrows. "What about Isabella?"

"I brought hers earlier," she said, bringing the tray to his desk. "When I returned to the kitchen, Ramona insisted that I bring you some breakfast as well so...here I am."

"Thank you," he said, nodding to her and reaching, first, for the cup of coffee that came with the breakfast tray.

"How are you this morning?"

He watched her thoughtfully over the rim of the cup as he took a small sip. He finished and set it down on the desk. "Better," he finally said. "Thank you for asking."

"That looks like...a lot of paperwork," she said, after a few miniutes of awkward silence.

"Yes...Quite the 'welcome home', isn't it?"

She chuckled softly.

"That and I have my first sitting for that blasted portrait this afternoon..." He frowned in frustration, already imagining the long hours of sitting on the throne, keeping a straight face, and wearing the heavy crown and the royal cloak and what-not.

"What portrait?" she inquired, curiously.

"They need a new one for the portrait hall downstairs," he said, as though annoyed by the fact. He took his pen and signed one of the papers before him.

"Well, they couldn't have their most recent picture of the king be him as a mere child, now could they?"

"Perhaps not," he muttered. "The process, however, I'm not looking forward to."

"Understandable," she said. "I'm sure if you asked, Isabella would keep you company for a while. She was just remarking the other day that she feels as though she hardly sees you anymore."

He frowned. "I feel terrible...I've been so busy and so caught up in my own worries and problems, that I've been ignoring my cousin."

"I think she understands," said Meredith. "I know she worries about you. She doesn't hold it against you that you're pre-occupied." She paused. "Now," she said. "Eat your breakfast. I have to leave."

He nodded and watched her as she left.

He almost wished that he had asked her to stay and keep him company.

Meredith returned to her rooms and removed her apron and morning work dress, exchanging it for a plain, periwinkle blue day dress with capped sleeves edged with the barest amount of lace. It still felt strange, dressing up in clothes such as these.

"Isabella?" she called, once she had finished.

"In here!" called her friend, from the sitting room. Meredith entered to see the princess sitting on the chaise lounge reading from a small book.

"I just wanted to let you know that, if it's all right with you, I'm going to town. I've been told by Fulton that a messenger has come and brought word that there is a letter for me at the post."

"Certainly," said Isabella. "Mind if I come with you?"

"Of course not," said Meredith, smiling. "I'd be glad for your company."

"Perfect," said Isabella, closing her book and standing. "We can make it into town and back before this afternoon. I promised Antony I'd keep him company for the portrait sitting."

Meredith smiled softly. So he had asked. "Perhaps we had better go then," she said aloud, smiling.

The two left the palace and sent two footmen to fetch the carriage. They quickly returned and Meredith waited outside while Isabella boarded with the help of the footman by the door.

She briefly turned and glanced up at the window that she knew to be the large one in Antony's study. She could see him standing before it, his back to the courtyard and his eyes fixed on a paper he was holding. She turned and entered the carriage with Isabella, remarking to herself on the complexity of the king: just when she seemed to have made some sort of something...progress, at least, in being, perhaps, his friend, she realized how little she knew about him really. And then she found herself wondering why she wanted to learn more about him anyways, when her history was what it was.

Later, Meredith and Isabella returned to the palace, Meredith with a letter securely tucked away in her dress pocket. Taking the letter from the postman, she had held it close, feeling somehow blessed by the piece of home that she now had in her possession. She would wait to read it later, in the quiet of her room, so that she could savor every word that her mother had penned.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you in a while then, Isabella?" she said, as Fulton held the door open for them.

"I suppose so," said Isabella.

"I'll walk with you to the throne room," said Meredith, smiling. "Then I'll go and find something for lunch. Shall I bring you something?"

"I'm sure that I'll eat lunch with Antony," she said as they reached the throne room, the tall doors flanked by two uniformed guards. "Of course, we'll have to wait until he's done with his portrait sitting. I pity him, but I suppose I pity myself more considering that it's my turn to sit for a portrait next."

At that moment the guards opened the doors. "Pitying yourself out here, cousin?" said Antony, removing the crown from his head and running a hand through his hair.

"Antony! Aren't you supposed to be in there?"

"I needed a break," he said, frowning, as he strode down the hallway towards the dining room, Isabella and Meredith now following. "The portrait painter has already restarted the painting twice. By the third time, I told him I was leaving for lunch and he could protest as much as he wanted to." He stopped and turned to consider Meredith and Isabella, as if thinking.

"Why don't you both join me for a meal?" he said, finally. "And, Isabella, in case you were wondering, Kade is off in the city checking up on a few things for me. Therefore, he won't be here."

Meredith chuckled under her breath at Isabella's slightly downcast look. She noticed that Antony also seemed vaguely amused. She walked behind the two cousins as they fell into step and started talking in lowered voices. She caught only snatches of their conversation, which seemed to be directed towards Antony's asking if Isabella had told her mother, Princess Therese, about Kade. She listened for Isabella's answer.

"No..." said her friend, keeping her eyes trained on the floor in front of her. "I haven't."

"You have to at some point," said Antony slowly, turning his head to look at her.

"I know...I guess I'm just worried about her reaction. I know you've taken it well but Mother...Well, you of all people know how much she wants me to marry a rich Lord with his own castle and land." Meredith watched as she shook her head worriedly and Antony put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

"Whatever happens, cousin," he assured her. "I promise I'm on your side. Kade's a good man. I believe he truly loves you, and that is what's important. Not how much money or land he has. Somehow, we'll make your mother see that."

"Thank you, Antony," said Isabella, turning sideways to give him a small smile.

Meredith allowed herself to fall back a few more steps. She focused on looking out the windows as she passed by them, observing the people working on the grounds. She thought, for a moment, that she saw Evan but from this distance, she couldn't be sure. She absentmindedly reached a hand into her dress pocket to ensure that her letter from her mother was still there. Her hand closed around the envelope and she smiled, imagining the news her mother might have written to her.

They soon reached the dining room and made their way across to the large table that served as an eating place for the royal family. She watched as Antony pulled a chair out for Isabella. She made her way to the spot across from the princess and was just about to sit down when Antony appeared at her side and pulled her chair out as well, waiting for her to be seated, before he turned and made his way to his own place at the head of the table.

She looked around the room. She had never eaten in any dining room as distinctly royal as this. Even the dining room of the royal family in Borgavia hadn't been as grand. From the high ceiling were hung three chandeliers, the center the largest, that gave light to the room. Currently, however, as the afternoon sunlight was shining brightly through the windows, there was no need for them to be lit. The windows themselves were framed with drapes of deep red with gold edging, the colors of the kingdom of Astoria and the House of Westerholme. The table was of dark wood, polished to smoothness and gleaming in the afternoon light. China plates, bowls, and crystal cups were set at each place and gleaming silverware was arranged impeccably upon linen napkins edged with gold, and with the crest of Westerholme embroidered in the same color.

The sideboard along the wall was filled with many dishes of food, covered trays bearing all sorts of delicacies that smelled wonderful, their scents wafting throughout the room. Antony and Isabella seemed unfazed by the lavishness of the dining room. Of course, they lived with it every day. Why wouldn't they be? For Meredith, however, this sort of thing had been what she had missed after leaving her real home, in Borgavia. She had eaten with Isabella, of course, since becoming her companion, but it was usually small meals taken in the Princess's rooms.

At that moment, uniformed footmen and table maids entered from a side door and began serving the first course. Meredith watched with wide eyes as they presented her with a bowl of soup. At one time in her life, she might have been used to this. However, now, it was something that was strange to her, having not known that part of her life for so long. For the first time in a long time, she felt a pang of sorrow at the loss of her homeland and the life she once knew.

"Is something wrong, Meredith?"

She jumped slightly and looked up to see both Antony and Isabella watching her. She realized that her brooding had left her merely stirring her soup, only taking a few spoon-fulls.

"Meredith?" repeated Antony, frowning. "Is the food not to your liking?"

"No!" she said, a bit too loudly and quickly. "I mean...no." She smiled. "It's very good. I've not had anything like it before."

"Good," he said, smiling. "I'm glad."

She smiled again, and turned back to eating her food, this time making sure not to let her mind wander.

"Antony, I almost forgot to tell you..."

Meredith looked up once more as Isabella spoke.

"Aunt Catherine is coming."

Meredith turned to look at Antony, to see him smirking somewhat.

"She's not my aunt, Isabella," he said.

"But you wouldn't leave me alone with...that woman...would you?"

"Don't be silly, Isabella," he said, taking a sip of his water. "You can have Kade keep you company. What better way to greet your Aunt Catherine than to introduce her to your new beau."

"Antony!" said Isabella, attempting to feign anger, but breaking into a smile instead.

Meredith felt a bit out of place as she ate her soup and listened to the two royal cousins talk. In Isabella's case, she saw this side of the princess nearly every day. Antony, however, was a different story. She had, on all the occasions she had seen him, perceived him to be a reserved person who made polite conversation at best. However, eating lunch with he and his cousin, she could see that he was easy-going with those he knew, or at least with Isabella.

"Meredith? said Isabella.

Meredith looked up to find both of her lunch companions watching her once more.

"You're very quiet today..." continued her friend.

"We don't mean to make you...uncomfortable..." said Antony, suddenly looking very worried and uncomfortable himself. She wondered why.

She decided to be honest. "I suppose I'm not used to this...But I guess that's not right...I eat with my family all the time. It's just...I've never been the one on the outside of the group." She hastened to explain. "I mean...You're cousins. And I'm...nobody."

"Nobody?" said Antony, sounding incredulous. "My cousin talks about you all the time; you're one of her dearest friends." Meredith looked at Isabella in surprise as Antony said this, but Isabella simply smiled back. "You're certainly "someone" to this family," he finished.

Meredith blushed and looked down at her soup, now almost gone, smiling at the compliment.

At that moment, the door burst open.

"Antony! Shame! Stealing my lovely Isabella for lunch when I had a picnic planned for her and I!"

"I thought you were in town checking on..."

"It's alright, Kade!" said Isabella happily. "I've only eaten a small bowl of soup."

"Isabella," said Antony. "Kade could eat with us, you know. The two of you don't need to go traipsing of on some romantic tryst for every meal." Meredith could see that, beneath his slight annoyance, he was humored by the situation with his cousin and her beau.

"But I don't!" complained Isabella.

"You're acting like a love sick young girl," said Antony, as he cut into the piece of chicken that, along with a lettuce green salad, the servants had just brought for the second course. "Aside from that, Kade...When I gave you my approval of your courtship of my cousin, I didn't meant that you would be stealing her away every moment of the day."

"Oh don't be a stick in the mud, Antony," said Kade, good naturedly. "Besides, I know you're really happy for us."

Antony rolled his eyes. "Very well. Go sit on the river banks and feed each other strawberries. I could care less."

"Is that a command, Lord King?" said Kade, his eyes twinkling as he bowed teasingly. "Because I have some strawberries in this picnic basket..."

"Get out, Kade!" said Antony, attempting not to laugh.

Kade and Isabella left and Meredith felt that she should go, since her mistress had left.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped, half standing from her chair and glanced at Antony. "I thought..."

He sighed and shook his head. "You may stay. You don't need to let my cousin disrupt your meal."

She sat down and continued eating, since she really was hungry. Every once in a while, she glanced at Antony, who, from his spot at the head of the table, seemed so much more regal and distant.

"Well this is all rather uncomfortable, is it not?"

She looked at him in surprise. He watched her thoughtfully for a few moments, before suddenly removing the long cloak that he had been wearing for the portrait, along with his crown, losing the trappings of royalty and then coming to sit in the spot directly across from Meredith.

After a while, he cleared his throat, awkwardly, and spoke. "Please say something...I can't stand silences...I always feel like it's my fault that no one wants to talk."

This was Astoria's king, this man who was afraid that he made others uncomfortable.

She couldn't help it; she laughed slightly, while he simply looked at her in surprise.

"You're...strange." She finally said. "I mean, in a good way! It's just that...I haven't worked for any people like you before. They're the sort that refuse to ever deign themselves to talk to a simple servant, such as myself." She smiled. "Why?"

He frowned. "I suppose I've never thought about a reason...I just don't feel that we should be rude and impersonal to our servants. They do us a valuable service. I grew up with Ramona, the cook, practically acting as my mother." He shrugged. "I don't really care what people think about it; I'll treat my servants how I want to treat them." He sighed, then met her eyes. "Isabella's Aunt Catherine, for one, feels that servants should be chosen merely based on looks. They should be seen and not heard. I don't want to imagine what would happen to the current staff if she were to somehow end up in charge of such matters."