Dear Ophelia,

Things have been just wretched without you. Parties with the Courtiers have kept me busy, but you know how it is. Mother and our sister have been in meeting after meeting, leaving me absolutely alone with nothing but my thoughts. I could not wait a moment longer to send you a letter, even though I know I promised I would wait at least a few weeks to let you get settled.

So how is it? Is the prince handsome? If not, any courtiers catch your eye? I know, I know. You are meant for the prince. But live a little, Sister, you will be married soon enough! It doesn't mean you can't look. I've heard only rumors of Garnetti entertainment, but I have heard it gets wilder than even Verenice. I do hope you have allowed yourself some fun. Please tell me everything so I may enjoy myself through your experiences.

It upsets me that I won't be there to see you on your true wedding day, Rosebud. But hopefully, with this wedding, I will be able to visit you and your new home soon enough.

With love,

Elliotte.

Tears pricked at my eyes, thinking of Elliotte's letter. About a week had passed since Jourdon's departure and I had kept myself busy. I had decided to avoid Pierre, and had been mostly successful since that night, leaving me to stomach the king at dinner on my own. He was usually half drunk at the start and never lingered long, but even a few minutes were painful with his leers and jibes. I had not again seen the queen since visiting her in the Pearl Room, and very little was said about her amongst the courtiers.

Often, I entertained myself by having tea with the courtiers and aristocrats, and walking the gardens in the afternoon. They were beautiful, with creatures carved from trees and bushes. In Verenice everything had been wilder, less tamed, brambles of roses allowed to stretch out their arms and legs to envelop our gardens. Since the rose was the symbol of Roserian might, trying to shape them or prune them—cutting away their thorns—was frowned upon.

The strict and even edges of the Garnetti gardens made me think of their women. Perfect shapes of their ideal selves. I was starting to find, despite all my teachings, trying to fit into their mold was more tiring than I expected.

No wonder in the evenings so many of them escaped, took to liquor and gambling in Pierre's private parties. Every night music wafted down the hall from his room, laughter and cheers leaking out every time someone entered or departed. Every night that went by without another invite from Pierre left me feeling more like I stood on the outside, always looking in.

"You are quiet today, Your Highness."

I looked over to Darren. He was accompanying me today. Sometimes a member of the court would see me walking, and come over to walk with me, making incessant small talk that made my head throb.

The whispers had become more common since the other night, and I hadn't the faintest clue as to why. It was not uncommon for my head to hurt so much by the time evening came that I retired to my rooms early, holding a pillow to my head, trying to make it stop. Like I had done as a child before I had grown used to them.

Now it was like adjusting all over again.

I smiled at Darren. "Just thinking of home."

Darren's gaze flickered. I wondered if Elliotte had sent him a letter as well. Just thinking of how hard it must be for both of them made my heart yearn to reach out and hug Darren, like we might have when we were younger. But to do that now would be scandalous, even with only the eyes of the hedges around us.

"I'm sure it is thinking of you just as much as you are thinking of it."

I smiled in response but found the smile difficult to hold. I wasn't so sure. The talk of Mother and Sister in their meetings, Elliotte and his parties. Though I did not doubt my bother missed me, life went on as usual. The palace was completely undisturbed without my presence. Like all these years I had only been a ghost, my presence fainter than the rest.

"I'm sure it does," I replied. But my troubling thoughts did not leave me. I had always known it would be like this, why did it bother me so much now? Because Jourdon had not been as I hoped? To hope he would love me so soon was foolish and fanciful. But without his love, what else did I have?

I was in a palace, in an enemy kingdom. Though I was a Rose, I did not have any power other than whispers that gave me headaches. I had all but one friend, Darren, and maybe Sabine some days. Today she had not even been among my maids to ready me, leaving Jeanette to tend to most of her duties. The girl seemed pleasant but something about her presence set me on edge, making me feel like I couldn't fully relax around her. Apparently, it was Sabine's day off.

Just then, something caught my eye. It was Josephe and a group of nobles I vaguely recognized. A baroness from Pierre's party, another a young man—a Viscount, but I wasn't sure.

The places they were from still muddled together for me. Something with a "C", named after some precious stone particular to the region. Cavansite? Carnelian? It was hard to keep track. Governess Bernadette would be terribly disappointed. With how my headache persisted, it was harder than usual.

What caught my eye was the girl next to the young man. Both of them had the golden-bronze skin of Cristaney. The girl—or young woman I should say—absolutely glowed.

She had her arm linked through the Viscount's. She smiled and laughed, her dark coiled curls styled in tight braids and cascading coils. Shimmering dust sparkled on her brown skin, her pale blue dress glittering with a clear stones—at this distance, they might have been diamonds. Likely another aristocrat. But something about her profile was familiar. I paused where I was, a few hedges over. The aristocrats, thankfully, had not seen me. Darren followed my gaze and stiffened.

"That girl. The one with dark hair—doesn't she look familiar?" She had not turned yet, so I could not quite see her face. I tried to move around so I could get a better look but Darren stood like a statue beside me. Going around him would look too obvious.

Darren's voice was curt. "You've likely seen her at one of the court functions you've attended, Your Highness."

I tilted my head, trying to stay unseen. I wished the woman would just turn a little so I could see her better. A part of me sensed she was purposefully not looking my way, but that would be silly.

"That's not it," I replied, uncertain. If she had been at Pierre's party, it is likely I might have missed her. There had been so many, and I had been rather taken with my wine...

She tilted her head back and laughed at something Josephe said. It rung through the gardens, its familiarity licking up my spine.

"You are likely mistaking her for someone else," Darren replied. "Let us continue on, I know you were hoping to have a day to yourself—"

Just then they curved around a bend as they moved, the man beside the woman leaning down to whisper something to her. A smile curved the side of her mouth I could see, and she turned her head in my direction, partially concealed by her companion as she whispered something back to him. But as if sensing my gaze, her eyes flickered toward me. Recognition slammed into me so fast it was dizzying.

It couldn't be.

"Sabine?" I started forward, but Darren placed an arm before me.

"You are imagining things. Your handmaiden isn't in the palace today."

I glanced at Darren. He was unlike himself, jaw tense as he blocked the woman from view. I frowned at him, trying to step aside. Behind him Sabine--or the woman that looked like Sabine, turned away, the skirts and the laughter of the nobles fading as they disappeared from view.

"It's her, I am sure of it." I tried to brush past him. How could he not see that was Sabine? Why was she dressed as a noble? What was going on? But Darren was quicker, blocking my path before I could go after them.

His jaw ticked. "You are mistaken, Your Highness. To go after and inquire would only embarrass yourself." He licked his lips and looked away. "Perhaps you should retire...I know things have been...straining for you."

I winced, finally stopping. Was I seeing things? That had never been a trait of my...gift. But still, with how my head has been, it was possible. Angels knew I could use some more sleep. It was rather far-fetched, now that I really considered it. Sabine. Here. Dressed as an aristocrat. I was still getting to know her, but I doubted she would be caught dead in the frilly, flouncing lace and tulle I had just seen.

Still, her face had been Sabine's. For a brief moment, I would have sworn it was her eyes staring back at me. But what possible reason could there have been for it to be her?

The seedling of a possible explanation occurred to me, but as fast as it came, I buried it deep. If it was true, I didn't want to consider it. It had Mother's fingerprints all over it.

"Perhaps you are right." I didn't meet Darren's eyes. Even if he had been looking out for me, the insinuation stung. That there were things even in my own mind I might not be able to trust.

He was just looking out for me, my captain and my friend. I forced a smile, Great Mother forbid someone spy me looking so glum.

Darren nodded, turning quiet as we retraced our steps, exiting the maze of hedges. The grounds were a flurry of activity. Each day the palace accepted more and more guests, nobles and aristocrats from all over Garnette coming in anticipation for the wedding. Nerves bundled in my stomach and I looked down as I felt their gazes wander towards me.

A few dark-haired ladies spied me walking past, leaning down to whisper to each other. They sat around a round table set with tea and pastries arranged on a circular dishes. A little dog, black haired with a mane about its head, like some teacup sized lion, sat beside them, its gaze following a black fly that buzzed about its face, as if taunting the small creature.

I considered them. I should stay, approach the ladies, have tea and laugh and smile and prepare myself to be these people's Queen. But I desired no such thing. I wanted quiet and the warmth of my bedchamber.

 I was not sure what had brought on these moods lately, but it was more than just my headache. With my worries about this marriage and Jourdon being gone, the effort of trying to keep up appearances seemed more taxing than they ever had before. At least back in my room I could reread Elliotte's letter in privacy.

We approached the palace door. As we did, a figure emerged. He was dressed extravagantly. Dark hair curled in spirals around his cheeks, sapphire eyes practically glowing amidst the dark shadow dusted upon his lids. Golden buckles gleamed at his heeled feet, his slim legs elongated in his fitted black breeches.

Pierre.

I nearly lost my footing. I had not seen him since the party. Sometimes I imagined he might send me another handwritten note...

But I had grown so accustomed to not seeing him during the day, to see him now, the dazzling sunlight reemerging to paint his black hair red as fire for a moment, I lost myself. I could not explain why I was so drawn to him. Our eyes met, and his lips curved. He walked straight for me.

Darren shifted tensely, like he was reaching for his sword.

"Princess Ophelia," Pierre purred. "How lovely."

He took my hand before I could greet him. I glimpsed a devilish smile as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. The red paint he left behind looked like a smudge of blood on my pale skin.

"Your Highness."

Pierre's grin did not falter as he straightened. "You look stunning, as usual. I was wondering when I may be so blessed as to see you again."

My cheeks reddened. People were staring. Whispers rose around me, and this time not an Angel was in proximity.

"Bold as usual, Pierre."

Pierre's gaze glittered. "I was hoping I might find you. Tonight, you must join me. It has already been far too long. I promise to make sure my servants behave this time."

I thought of the warmth of the liquor from the last time I spent with Pierre. I knew Sabine would warn me against it. But I had spent this week so tired and... sad, if I was being honest. Homesick and disappointed with how Jourdon had left. The thought of spending time with Pierre sparked the first flicker of excitement I had experienced all week.

"Perhaps for a short while," I agreed. Pierre gave a dazzling smile.

"Later tonight then, after you attend dinner." He winked, and continued into the gardens, a group of aristocrats calling for him. He paused to whisper as he passed me, breath brushing my exposed neck and sending a chill down my spine.

"I look forward to it, Ophelia."