A/N: The characters and most of the story courtesy of Gail Carson Levine. I'm just a fan!

It was turtle soup again. Who would kill a poor defenseless turtle just to make a bowl of mediocre soup? It's not like they could run away to save themselves. Char brought his soup spoon up to his mouth and pretended to sip some of it, then returned the spoon to the bowl.

"Yes Sir Rothor, I agree entirely," he responded to the man to his left, who had been talking his ear off for two courses already. How had it only been two courses? Char fervently hoped the next course would have something more substantial, with meat at least. How many courses was this dinner supposed to be?

"Does it really? I'm sure you know much more about these things than I do," he said, to prod Sir Rothor along. As Sir Rothor turned red and starting protesting while looking rather pleased, Char let his eyes wander to the rest of the dinner guests. Luckily the table had broken into smaller conversations, and Char had only Sir Rother to contend with. There were only twelve people at dinner this evening, and none of them particularly important. Besides Prince Charmont and his parents, King Jerrold and Queen Daria, the diners were Sir Rothor and his wife, three traveling academics (historians, Char was fairly certain), another knight whose name Char had forgotten, and, of course, Sir Nealan, his wife, and their charming, worldly, and elegant daughter Sophia.

Or at least, that was how his mother the Queen has described Sophia when she had waylaid him that afternoon. She had just returned from finishing school, his mother just happened to mention. She just happened to be invited to dinner tonight. She just happened to come from a very respectable family, and no Char, I wasn't looking for you for any particular purpose, his mother had said. Just thought we would talk a little about tonight's dinner guests, she had said. Subtle indeed, Mother.

Char wasn't sure charming, worldly, and elegant were exactly the adjectives he would have chosen himself. He supposed she was pretty, but he couldn't come up with anything better than that. Maybe she was worldly and elegant around other people, but when they'd talked earlier she'd been trying far too hard to be charming to have actually succeeded. She seemed boring, but then again he probably did too. How on earth did they expect him to woo eligible young ladies at a formal dinner at the palace?

Char noticed a silence coming from his left, and abruptly turned to look at Sir Rothor, who was looking at him with a twinkle in his eye and a knowing grin. Sir Rothor was quite a few steaks too heavy and had hair quite a few shades too grey to be an active knight in his father's forces, but Char knew that he had been well known some decades ago for being very successful in the field, mostly due to his intelligence. There was a reason he was often called now to give the King council, and it wasn't just because of the sizable amount of land he had inherited.

"So, lad," Sir Rother began. "Getting a little distracted are we?" He followed that with a wink and looked in the direction of the elegant Sophia.

Char immediately started blushing. And then started blushing more at how easy it was to make him blush. Sir Rothor had caught him looking around at the group and had misinterpreted the time Char's eye spent on Sophia. He'd been so busy looking around he hadn't even noticed that the turtle soup had been replaced by a few thin slices of what looked like duck.

"Ah, well, that's why we're all here isn't it?" Sir Rothor cut in before Char could come up with an adequate response. "You're too young to be openly looking for a bride, or rather, for Her Royal Highness to be openly looking for one for you. But it won't be long until you're old enough, and there's no point wasting time."

"I'm far too young to marry!" Char exclaimed unintentionally before glancing around and lowering his voice. "I'm sure Sophia and her family were invited, like yourself and your wife, to meet the historians who are visiting." Please let that be why they were invited, Char continued to himself.

"Oh don't worry lad, Lady Nina and I don't mind being used as fillers to seat a table while their royal highnesses and the best families of Kyrria conspire to throw pretty girls in front of you! After you've been married for as long as we have, well, we'll take an evening of fine dining and entertainment any day," replied Sir Rothor amiably. "Indeed, such fine duck and turtle soup I haven't had in years!"

Char noticed that Sir Rothor had cleaned his plate, and Char looked down to his own. There wasn't much there, but at least it was real food.

"I'm sorry if my eye was wandering, Sir Rothor," Char earnestly began. "I meant no disrespect."

"Of course not, of course not. Lads your age aren't quite as enthralled with the natural habitats of centaurs as ancients like myself are, and there's nothing wrong with that. I remember going to dinners just like these when your father was a young prince, and the late King wanted to make a match for him. And much more tedious those were, because I still cared a great deal about being impressive and dignified myself."

As Sir Rothor had hoped, that brought a slight smile to Char's face. The poor boy had been impeccably mannered all night, and Sir Rothor knew firsthand that being stately was truly exhausting. In fact, his only slip-up so far that Sir Rothor had seen was letting his eyes wander over to Sophia that once. Not bad, for a King-to-be, but far too proper for a boy of 16.

Char redirected the conversation to the academics visiting, and had a much better time being involved in the conversation this time around. The meal was almost over, and soon he'd be able to grab some real food from the kitchens. Maybe ancients were happy with turtle soup and two thin slices of duck, but Char was pretty sure there'd be meat pies cooked and hidden away somewhere in preparation for tomorrow's banquet. High Chancellor Thomas was going to speak, and it was sure to be a bore, but at least a banquet meant more food to choose from, and his younger sister would probably attend. Maybe he'd be able to sneak away during the Chancellor's speech… no, that would be highly disrespectful and sure to be noticed by many of the guests. He'd have to tough it out.

As he walked toward the kitchens after dinner, Char sighed. He had escaped without having to say more than 5 or 6 sentences to Sophia all evening. Tonight had been better than usual, but these constant dinners, banquets, and balls were getting to be too much for him. Maybe if Sophia and all the other ladies dragged along to these events weren't so tiresome… but no, he couldn't blame them for what wasn't their fault. He knew that he was gaining a reputation among Kyrria for being incredibly well mannered and respectful, which, though a desirable reputation to have, was really just code for dull. He knew that he wasn't truly dull, but that he simply didn't know how else to handle social events. He had been trained in etiquette his whole life, and he turned on that side of himself the same way he put on his doublet and laced his perfectly shined black formal shoes.

The rest of my life, Char thought to himself. I'm going to spend the rest of my life like this. His only consolation was that it was not going to last forever, because he'd undoubtedly die of boredom before too long.