A little taken aback, Lamont wondered why Kiara was blushing. Had he said something wrong? Had he offended her? He knew he wasn't supposed to care, he wasn't supposed to be here alone with her like this, he wasn't supposed to be talking with her. This wasn't the plan. The plan was to keep to himself until the wedding day, and then... 

But here he was, unable to stop staring. Lamont found her endearing this way, a delicate flower instead of a flame, though he had no desire to continue to embarrass her.

her haughtiness returned and Lamont sighed, finding himself being made a fool. As soon as she mentioned makeup he inwardly berated himself for his oversight. Of course she would use makeup, it was probably easier to apply and handle than a spell. He was the the one that blushed now, taking a step away as he pretended to find greater interest in the leaves of a bush. "Well, I certainly hope you manage to find this makeup, for you'll need a lot of it." He visibly winced at his tone; he didn't mean to sound quite so snooty. He was a little annoyed, but not angry. Yet, as he stole an almost-startled glance her way, he couldn't bring himself to apologize. Why? It was just a comment about makeup. He certainly didn't know where to find it. Berinike men didn't wear it, and his brothers used to tease him enough about how "frail" and "girly" he looked, the most effeminate of the princes. He didn't look [i]that[/i] frail, [i]that[/i] girly, did he?

"I must do some research for my own costume," he commented in an effort to gloss over his slip in attitude. "I suspect a typical peasant doesn't dress quite like I do."