Prince Jonathon of Conte sat in the lively courtyard on a bench next to the waterfountain. He sighed audibly. He was lucky he was alone. There was no one to chide or nag him. This was the place where he and Alanna used to sit together. He had been struck with inner turmoil ever since their conversation during Voice. He felt guilty and he wanted to make things better, even if only for his own conscience. But he would most likely never see her again. He'd single-handedly lost the best fighter his father had. Sighing again, he brushed a hand over his weary face. A rustle of light footsteps sounded before him. He glanced up and gained a sickeningly fake smile as his betrothed, Josiane, came from the east wing of the castle. He didn't love her. Truth be told, he barely liked her. But in an act of foolish haste, he had chosen the first candidate to get revenge against Alanna. How stupid he had been!
Josiane sat beside Jon after greeting him with a kiss and began to jabber the latest gossip and attempted in vain at small talk. Jon didn't hear a word. Slowly the Nobles made their way in. He hoped that soon Raoul or Gary or Alex would come save him from his misery. Josiane didn't seem to take notice to his lack of attention and she soon had a posse of woman standing around them snickering and hissing at Josiane's snide remarks. Jon groaned.
But then, something caught his eye. He gazed over at a woman in an orange dress who was poised on the arm of an unfamiliar Noble. He stood and left to greet them without excusing himself, causing a slight panic and silence in the group of women around Josiane. But Josiane nervously cast it off, pretending to ignore the rude gesture. She resumed the chatter while she carefully kept Jon in her peripheral vision.
The prince bowed in front of the couple as the raven haired woman curtsied back with her cheeks a bit flushed. Jon glanced at the Noble, thinking he looked familiar somehow. But he knew that he had never seen this woman before in his life. She was beautiful—he would've remembered.
"Highness?" The woman asked, regaining his attention. "May I present my chaperone, Sir William of Delon, and myself, Lady Faye of Trighton Court. It is a wonderful pleasure to meet our kingdom's heir." The lady spoke softly yet with strength Jon couldn't quite describe. He was impressed by her blatant audacity. She dared to introduce herself, let alone her male companion.
"Believe me, my lady, the pleasure is completely mine." He kissed her hand as he bowed once again and Alanna began to feel a knot of anxiety form in her stomach. She could feel George squirm beside her in discomfort as Jon swooned over her. She suddenly felt bad for dragging him into this. It was wrong of her. He was probably going to end up getting hurt. She turned to him in an attempt to remove him from this scene, for both their sakes.
"My lord, take leave awhile. I believe there are a number of women staring at you over in that huddle off yonder, no?" George smiled weakly, still a bit wary and solemn from Jonathon's forward affections.
"Of course, my dear." He used the best Noble accent he could obtain, though his usual twang hung lightly on his words. He touched her arm lightly and then stepped away, over to the group of women Alanna had suggested he join. Jon stuck out his arm and Alanna took it, slightly disappointed that he hadn't recognized her. He obviously didn't know her as well as she'd expected or he would've recognized her face, her body, and her mannerisms. He brought her to the bench near the rose bushes, where they had always sat before. Obviously, Alanna thought, this must be his where he woos all his women.
"So, my Lady Faye, what brings you to the Palace? Or to Corus for that matter? I don't believe I've ever seen you before." He paused, pursing his lips. "Or your escort. I take it you're new to the city?" Jon asked, turning to face her on the bench. His hands covered hers on her lap. He was getting good at attracting the princesses, surely this girl would be just as simple.
"Well, Highness, I fear that I come as a scout for the Bazhir. They wish to know what the palace is like and if the royals are doing their jobs. My intentions are to find out." Jon grinned and chuckled. Alanna smiled back softly. He was amused.
"Oh, really? Then you should know, I'm the voice of the Bazhir." Now he was getting cocky. Alanna smirked back.
"So I've heard. They take very fondly to you in the villages." The tone in her voice expressed the sarcasm that dripped off her words. Jon laughed loudly, indifferent of who heard. He liked this girl. He liked her more than Josiane, and he had just met her. Not to mention he was exceedingly attracted to her. He stood and took her arm and they left the courtyard, wandering into the castle where Jon gave her an unnecessary tour. She knew these walls like the back of her hand. But, nonetheless, she gasped in all the right places and acted interested as a proper lady should. After all, she was noblewoman now.
As they reached the door to Jonathon's quarters she grinned slightly. He was going to try and take her to his room. She yawned and stopped walking, pulling her arm away from the link it had with his. He turned around, startled.
"What is it, my lady?" He asked, and Alanna saw the panic on his face. He hadn't expected hesitation. Princes usually got wht they wanted.
"I do so very much thank you for the time you've spent showing me the castle, highness, but I fear I must return to my lord. We are to depart back to the Bazhir at dawn. It's been a pleasure, Prince, and I thank you, but I must go now." And with that, she curtsied and kissed his hand before turning and walking away. He stood bemused for a moment, then chased after her, just as the Lioness expected him to do. It was almost pathetic.
"Leaving Corus, at dawn? So soon? Are the Bazhir so quickly contented? Why at dawn, why not leave at the hour of noon, when all is lively and bustling?" Alanna smirked. That wouldn't make any sense. He was making the assumption that she knew nothing of traveling and its quirks. She turned to face him, still keeping her pace.
"My lord, if we leave at dawn no other man and his pack will be there to bother us. It we were to leave at noon, the streets will be full with people and vendors and thieves." Alanna felt her heart flutter in relief as the courtyard came into view. George turned and stared blankly at them as the prince spoke pleadingly. Alanna felt her stomach drop. He'd been waiting this entire time. For her. She'd made him waste hours talking to women he wasn't interested in.
"I know the King of thieves personally. I could swear to you that no one will empty your purses." Jon assured her. George laughed as he stepped to them.
"So could I, my liege. Mr. Cooper happens to be a fmily friend. But I fear we must be going. Ala-, uh, Faye, are you ready to return home?" Alanna smiled and nodded, gracefully taking his arm. Jon stood dumbly before them, searching his mind for a reason to stall her departure.
"Please, I'm asking you as a man besotted with your beauty." George scoffed as Alanna jabbed his ribs in protest. "Meet me here tomorrow and I'll have guards personally escort you when you choose to leave. At anytime you please. Just one more day. I'm begging you. I want to see you again." Alanna dully wondered if this was acceptable behavior for a prince. He was practically on his knees, whining and begging for something he couldn't have. It left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Perhaps, highness. I shall try." She saw George smirk at the nauseatingly hopeful face Jon acquired after those words. Alanna reminded him again.
"I will try." Then, satisfied, Jonathon of Conte strode back into the palace after kissing his lovely Faye's cheek, utterly pleased with himself. Alanna and George rode back to Dancing Doves with an awkward silence between them. The ride was stifling and Alanna could feel the heat of George's glare. She shook her head.
What have I gotten myself into? She wondered, sighing loudly. George had every right to be angry and it was probably only going to get worse.