The fever had passed, but the shame remained.
Princess Charlotte paced slowly beneath the arched trellis of flowering wisteria, her hands neatly folded in front of her as if attending a royal ritual. In truth, she was procrastinating. Her dress was too pristine. Her posture too upright. And her heart? Alas, a traitor today.
Elias stood by the fountain, honing a blade with slow deliberation—though the dagger didn't truly need it. When he saw her approach, he straightened, sheathing the blade and drying his hands on his tunic.
"Good morning, Your Highness," he said—curse him—his voice didn't tremble at all.
Charlotte blinked. "Good morning." Pause. "You're abnormally calm. Sinisterly so."
He inclined his head, mouth twitching. "Shouldn't I be?"
"You ought," she muttered, then quickly backpedaled. "I mean—no. I merely meant that… I wished to speak with you. About something. Informal. Casual conversation. Like two proper individuals who are absolutely not recalling silly things said under high fevers."
He raised an eyebrow. "Silly, was it?"
Charlotte huffed and sat beside the fountain, gazing into the rippling water like it might save her from herself.
"I recall what I said," she murmured. "To you. The other evening."
Elias sat beside her, hands folded. "Which part? The proclamation, or the bit where you tried to knight the cat?"
Charlotte groaned.
He chuckled—this time not faking it—and the sound shattered her dignity like porcelain.
"You don't need to apologize, Charlotte," he said gently. "You were ill. Feverish."
"That doesn't make it false," she admitted, finally looking at him. "I meant it. I just… didn't mean to announce it like an opera."
He studied her, thoughtful. His ears had gone pink. "You really meant it?"
"Yes." Her voice was firmer now. "And if you intend to reject me, please do it quickly. I have only so much pride left."
He blinked. Twice. "Reject—what? No. Charlotte, I— I like you too." He ducked his head, almost shy. "I have for some time."
Charlotte stared.
"You have?"
He nodded. "You're terrifying. And brilliant. And maddening. And—"
"Oh, go on," she said, grinning. "I like this list."
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Perhaps… once you're feeling better, we could take a walk together. An official one. Where neither of us is delirious and confessing to house pets."
She laughed, her cheeks warming. "I'd like that."
And from the shrubs, Mira and Amelia silently high-fived, while Eladin leapt up from behind the rose bushes with a triumphant, "I knew it! Charlotte loves Elias! She's going to marry him and name their first child Sir Meow-Meow!"
Charlotte facepalmed. Elias turned scarlet.
And for a moment, everything was just right in their wonderfully chaotic kingdom.