A/N – Sorry this took so long…I had it but I've been busy. Enjoy! :)
Chapter 7
"Her? Why is she with the prince?"
Back at the chateau, the duchess and her daughters were using the duchess' magic mirror to spy on the prince and Ivy. Souzan was not happy.
"Because she is an addle-minded twit," the duchess replied, waving her hand so that the image of Ivy and the prince disappeared.
"Mother!"
"And if all goes according to plan," the duchess continued, "by the time I have reached my full power, he will be so in love with her he won't even see what's coming to him."
"What is coming to him, Mother?" Parveneh asked.
"You shall see, my daughter," the duchess said. The rose that hovered in mid-air on the table in the middle of the room was surrounded by a blue light that was growing stronger by the day.
"But Mother, why put all your power into a rose?" Souzan asked.
The duchess smiled at her daughter. "Because, my dear, this rose will give me all the power I need."
"You need to what?"
The duchess only smiled a malevolent smile. "You shall see."
**************
Ivy sat in her bed that night, long after everyone had gone to sleep, trying to decipher the prince. Why did he want to garden with her? Wouldn't he rather sit on his throne and laugh as the servants walk by with their dirty clothes and heavy loads?
She sighed and lay back down. She didn't understand. He had seemed so overly-confident and smug, but was it possible that what she had said meant something to him? She fell asleep wondering.
**************
The prince sat on his balcony, watching the sunset. He hoped that he hadn't made the wrong choice with this whole garden business. Miss Scarlett had seemed truly shocked that he had wanted to do it in the first place.
This is ridiculous, he thought. I don't want to be nice; being nice means being vulnerable.
And yet…he felt he would want to be nice when it came to Scarlett. Very nice.
**************
The next morning, Ivy awoke and was instructed to do some minor chores, which kept her busy until about noon. After a hurried lunch, she collected the gardening tools that Maria had set out for her, and headed to Evelyn's garden. She wished to get there before the prince.
Judging by the curtains still drawn in her windows, Evelyn was not even awake yet. This was puzzling, but Ivy shrugged it off and entered the walled garden. Not knowing where to start, she spent a few minutes just staring around, still in shock at the absolute mess the place was. Finally, she noticed a group of daylilies and decided to begin with them.
The sun was high in the sky, but the day was mild and not as hot as it had been the past few days. Ivy thanked her lucky stars for this, since she did not care to work in the hot sun. The perennial daylilies were in bad shape; not only were they in the wrong part of the garden, but it looked as if they had been partially mutilated. Ivy sighed sadly, pulled on her gloves, and began to work.
She was carefully pulling up the bulbs when she heard the crunching of boots behind her. She gritted her teeth, but turned around.
The prince was standing in the middle of the garden, looking around at the dead leaves and twigs. He was dressed quite ridiculously for gardening; he had on a silk purple shirt with a short cloak partially wrapped around him, elegant pants, and shiny leather boots. Quite unwillingly, Ivy let out a laugh.
"Does something humor you?" he asked harshly.
Not intimidated, Ivy nodded, still chuckling.
"Pray tell, what is it?"
"You really expect to garden in those clothes?" she asked with a somewhat unsympathetic laugh.
He looked down at his clothes, then back up at her.
"What is wrong with my clothing?" he retorted.
"Do even know what gardening entails?"
"Yes…you look at flowers and pour water on them," he said.
This only caused Ivy to laugh even more, which made the prince very annoyed indeed.
"What is it about me that makes you laugh so much?" he asked disdainfully.
"I am sorry," she said, trying to control herself. "Gardening is much more than just pouring water on flowers."
"Oh really," he said with sarcastic disbelief. "What else does it involve?"
"Dirt, mostly," Ivy said. "See these bulbs?" He nodded. "They are supposed to be perennial. Do you know what that means?"
"Yes, I know what it means," he said mockingly. "It means…" he trailed off. The realization hit him that he had no idea, but instead of inquiring the correct answer, he just became angry.
"I will not be taught my place by a noble who defends peasants!" he said angrily. "I am the prince, I know everything I need to know. Good day," he said shortly.
With that, he turned on his fancy-leather-boot heel and stormed out.
Ivy, at first shocked to no end, suddenly began to laugh once again. He really was a conceited bonehead. Sighing from part contentment, part disbelief, she began working on the daylilies again. She hummed quietly to herself as she worked.
~
How dare she! She had insulted him to his face! He stormed out of the garden and back into the palace. Who did she think she was?
He stomped up to his chambers, slamming the door. Didn't she realize this was hard enough for him? But then he regretted what he had said; he had just confirmed what she probably knew all along: that he was an arrogant prig. And you're supposed to be trying to change, remember? the voice inside his head said. He kicked himself mentally. He felt some comfort in that she had been able to laugh at him instead of growing angry herself. He could hear her melodic laughter in his head.
He sighed. He would just have to return as gracefully as he could. With that in mind, he changed and headed to the library.
~
Ivy was moving the bulbs from their place in the dark corner of the garden to a place where they would get more sun. Dusting the dirt off her gloves and wiping the tiny beads of sweat from her forehead, she suddenly heard a stomping from behind her. She turned to see the prince had returned. Biting her lip to prevent her from laughing again, she noticed that he had changed into simple cotton clothes, and was carrying a pair of gloves. Furrowing her brow, she stood complacently until her reached her.
"A plant that continues to grow after two seasons," he said with a smug look on his face.
"Very good," she said like one who is congratulating a dog for lying down. "Did you look that up all by yourself?" she said softly to herself, but the prince still narrowed his eyes as if he knew she had said something sarcastic.
"I have changed my clothing, so if this does not suit you, then I am afraid I shall have to give up," he said. She looked at him suspiciously, but shrugged to herself.
"Well, I finished the daylilies, so I think we'll start the ivy," she said. She walked back to her tools.
"Ivy?" she heard him say.
"Yes?" she answered, out of habit. Biting her lip, she turned around.
"I mean…um…yes, ivy, that's what we're…doing," she said nervously, hoping he hadn't noticed. He hadn't.
She picked up her tools and headed to wall where the ivy climbed up and out of sight. She grabbed one of the ladders that were propped up against the wall, and climbed up.
"See this up here?" she said to the prince, who was looking up, squinting in the sun. "See how it is all brown and somewhat dead-looking?"
"Yes," he said.
"I need you," she said, starting to climb back down, "to begin clipping the brown ones off."
"But that's all of them!"
"Yes, pretty much."
She reached the bottom again, and plopped a pair of clippers in his hands. He climbed the ladder and she soon heard the sound of clipping. Hoping she hadn't made a bad decision, she began to fix the ivy that had strayed out of the wooden frame it was supposed to weave in and out of. After some time, she grabbed the other ladder and headed up to help the prince.
"How is it going?" she asked.
The prince continued to work, but said, "Fine."
She shrugged; she supposed that was all the conversation they would have. She started to clip as well, and soon they were both lost in the work.
"Miss Scarlett?" he said suddenly.
Ivy didn't answer; she hadn't become used to responding to the name.
"Miss Scarlett?" he said louder.
"Oh! Yes?" she said, turning to him.
"I don't think we've been properly introduced," he said with an indecipherable look on his face.
She thought for a second, but then realized that they hadn't; she didn't even know his name.
"No, I suppose we haven't," she said, pushing a stray lock of brown hair out of her face.
"Well, my true name is Adrian Christopher Nikolas Julian Connor Estralita. But you may call me Adrian," he said.
"I should hope so," she said. She thought quickly, then said, "My name is simply Scarlett Channery of Serafina."
This close, she was reminded of how handsome he really was. He seemed to be looking at her as well, but she laughed silently at what she probably looked like. Her dark brown hair was no doubt tangled and messy, and her face dirty. She turned away and began to clip once again.
"Have you by chance read Paradise by Sir Walter Smith?" he said suddenly.
She was confused, but remembered reading it with her father, so she answered, "Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I was reminded of how he used ivy as a symbol of life," he said.
She smiled at this sudden, albeit odd, conversation. "True. If I remember correctly, he thought it showed that ivy can be forced to grow in an orderly pattern, but it can also grow astray. Just like life," she said, remembering.
"Exactly," he said, turning his head to look at her. "Although he said it in such a way that it took me months to understand it. My tutor was going mad, it took me so long," he said with a chuckle. Ivy laughed as well.
Before she could say anything more, the bell sounded that it was four o'clock, and the prince suddenly looked up.
"I must leave," he said, hurrying back down the ladder.
"Of course," she said, climbing back down as well.
"Good day," he said, although not as harshly as before. "It was…interesting."
She furrowed her brow, but nodded. "Goodbye," she said.
He inclined his head slightly, she curtsied slightly, and then he left, his back covered in leaves.
Ivy began to laugh once again. She had never laughed so much in one day in her entire life.