PRINCE CRISPIN OF KENT

The Prince smiled, an expression which looked as natural upon his face as the shining circlet did upon his tawny hair. "I am gladdened to hear that your travels were pleasant. The roads are so fearful of late... I suppose that will be up to me to take care of soon enough. But enough of that! This should be a pleasant occasion, and if I bring up affairs of state much more, I fear I will bore you to death!"

The Princess's faint gasp at his formal kiss of greeting didn't escape him. He tried not to show it in his expression, but it thrilled him greatly to see that he could affect the lovely young woman so. It also set into motion the idea that this whole marriage thing could be more than just a vitally necessary political maneuver, and, indeed, a pleasure. The next few days would be something else indeed.

"Oh, very well. That will be no trouble at all." He raised his left hand slightly, and a portly young man hurried up and stopped at his elbow. "Your grace?" "Thank you, Cal. Please escort the Queen-to-be and her entourage to her quarters. They will be requiring rosewater to freshen up." "Of course, your grace." 

As the Princess stepped closer and whispered breathily into his ear, the Prince's face turned a vivid, poorly-disguised shade of red. In a voice that was barely even a whisper, he breathed "If you get the chance to sneak away, I will be in my chambers after the midday meal. We could catch up, have a bit of tea... and perhaps a bit more." He trailed one hand lightly against her chin, tilting her head up slightly to create perfect eye contact, then released her with barely a motion, and resumed his facade of formality.

Crispin turned to Baroness Sabina and bowed, skipping the more formal kiss of greeting, in part to send the message that the Princess Emmanuelle was special, elevated above even the illustrious Baroness, especially in his eyes. It was an unwise move politically, but then, Sabina was an understanding woman.


BARONESS SABINA OF FELWENT

Sabina carefully didn't react to the Prince's unintentional slight, and, through even more effort, didn't smile at the attempted smoothness on the Prince's part. He was quite good, if a bit fumbling in his mannerisms. If she were twenty... no, fifteen years younger... She banished the thought from her mind, chiding herself with a bit of an internal laugh at the thought. She had plenty on her plate, and her role was to keep the Princess safe and well-cared-for, not to tease the King-to-be.

As the servants began to leave to prepare the rosewater for the Princess and her ladies-in-waiting, Sabina strode slowly but purposefully towards the snake of a man who was apparently waiting for her approach. As much as she wanted to strike him across his infuriating, conniving, heartbreaking face, she knew that such an action would only make things worse than they already were, and possibly even more tense than they were now. No, she couldn't do such a thing. For now, she had the power, and that would change if she were to make the mistake of giving in to her wishes.

With an icy tone, she spoke calmly "Lord Medici. I had hoped you might still be occupied with your affairs of the court. I suppose it is too optimistic to hope that you might be too preoccupied to interfere with the young lovebirds? Well. You'll have your chance to explain yourself. Follow me, we can talk as we walk to the banquet. Perhaps if we hurry, I'll be able to seize a seat far, far from your presence."