In honour of my reviewers (all three of them! XcD) I will present you with two chapters! I actually wrote them as one, but split it into two when I saw how long it was. But they do go together so I'll put them both up now.

rainkisser: True, but as I said, it's not exactly Twelve Dancing Princess'. More like TenCool Earl's Nieces. ANYWHO, I'm trying to keep this one a bit more real. Lark's havinga bit of a rest from his last story. So I'm glad it's coming out that way. :cD

panemonium: I hope so too. I really like your story too! It's a great start. I know I should actually go review it on yours, but I wanted to let you know here too. yay!

Dreamer at heart: thank you! I'm feeling less sick, but more stuffy, if you know what I mean, so I got down to some serious write-age. Here it is.

The chapter after the next one (Chapter 6), we get some real plot man. WOOT FOR PLOT!

Lulai

Chapter Four: Muffins

Jarrod woke up in a surprisingly pleasant mood, and for the first time since he could remember, didn't want to just go back to sleep. He climbed out of the moderate sized bed and dressed himself without the help of his valet.

He thought about what he was going to do. He was quite certain that the other ladies would not be up at this hour. It was still fairly early, the sun casting an orange glow over his room.

If he ever got the courage to redo his room at the castle, he would do it like this. The room was subtle, with wood tones accented by maroon and navy blue. It was masculine without being stifling. He pulled the sash across his chest and rubbed his chin absentmindedly.

He poked his head out the door and saw a maid carrying blankets walking down the hallway.

"Excuse me," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Oh!" she squeaked, surprised. The blankets she was carrying tumbled to the ground. "I'm so sorry, yer majesty," she stammered as she tried to pick them up again, bowing several times.

"It is of no consequence," Jarrod said, bending down to offer her assistance. "What's your name?"

"Elsie, yer majesty," she responded. "I hafta get these blankets to milady's room. We washed 'em an' so we can replace her old ones."

Jarrod folded the last purple blanket and placed it in her arms. "Are these Josephine's?" he asked, noting the colour. "I saw that she was wearing a similar purple last night."

"Nay, yer majesty," Elsie replied, shifting them in her arms. "These are milady Fiona's. They're her fav'rite colour, aye, but donna ye be callin' them purple! They're lilac. Milady's quite adamant about that! They're her fav'rite flower, lilacs are."

"Is your lady awake, then?" Jarrod asked, committing the fact to memory.

"Aye! Milady's always an early riser. Donna need much sleep, that one!" Elsie laughed. "I think she's in tha solarium."

"Thank you," Jarrod replied. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine, yer majesty," Elsie said with a firm nod. "Thank ye for helpin' me."

Elsie continued on down the hallway. She turned around and gave him a look. "Are ye comin' with me ta tha solarium or not?"

"I thought you were heading to your lady's bedchambers," Jarrod said, catching up to her.

"Aye, I am, but tha solarium's on tha way," she said. She led him down the hall.

"Right through there, yer majesty," Elsie instructed with a tilt of her head.

"Thank you," Jarrod said with nod.

"Yer welcome, Majesty," Elsie said. She attempted to curtsy, but was afraid of dropping the blankets. She inclined her head instead.

Jarrod opened the door to a brightly lit room. Fiona sat in the corner, putting the finishing touches on a white hat.

"Good morning," he said, stepping into the room. He left the door open.

"Oh, your majesty," Fiona said, rising. She curtsied. "I did not realize that you would be up so early."

"I didn't think that anyone else would be either," Jarrod said, indicating that she could reseat herself. "I was delighted to find out that someone else was an early riser." He sat himself across from her in a delightfully soft chair.

"Indeed, your majesty," Fiona said, picking up her wool.

"That is a lovely cap you are…" Jarrod trailed off, not knowing exactly what she was doing. It was like knitting, but she only had one needle.

"Crocheting," she supplied. "Thank you. I am making it for Daphne. I already have one made for Elizabeth. They are to be their birthday presents." She raised her eyebrows at him.

Jarrod interpreted the look correctly. "Your secret is safe with me," he said, holding up a hand.

"There," Fiona said, tying off the stitch and cutting it with a small knife from her basket. She shook the cap out and folded it, hiding it on the bottom of her wicker basket.

She pulled a small bell pull. "Can I offer you something to break your fast?"

"Yes, please," he responded.

She went to the door and talked with the maid there before returning to her seat and pulling a dress and a needle and thread out of her basket. She began to re-sew a piece of lace onto the hem of it.

Jarrod looked into the basket, noting all the torn clothes, and wondered if she had to mend them all herself.

"Do you always have to do the mending?" he asked, growing slightly angry in spite of himself. Did her family always treat her like this? Give her dowdy old clothes like the brown one she was wearing at the moment, and make her do chores that befitted a maid?

She laughed, which eased his mood slightly. "There is no 'have to' about it, your majesty. I enjoy mending and altering clothes. It gives me something to occupy my eyes and hands, while leaving my mouth and mind free for talking and thinking."

"Is this your dress?" he asked. The blue would look lovely on her.

"Heavens, no," Fiona replied. "This is a dress that I am altering for Iphigenia. It used to be Cassie's but is now too small for her. However, Nia is slightly taller than Cassie, so I had to take the hem out and redo it. I am just replacing the lace, then I will be done."

A maid entered with several muffins and two cups of chocolate. Fiona laid aside the blue dress to take a muffin.

"Carrot!" she exclaimed after ripping it in half and eating the top. "Carrot is most definitely my favourite flavour of muffin. What about you, your majesty?"

Jarrod felt a small smile tug at his lips. He couldn't help it; her good mood was infectious. "Blueberry," he replied, before taking a bite of his own muffin.

"I shall have to tell Cook that," Fiona stated, reaching for a second muffin. "I'm certain he can make blueberry muffins for tomorrow." She ate her second muffin with obvious enjoyment.

It was strange to see a woman who enjoyed eating. Most just took a little bit on their plates to avoid any ounce of roundness on their bodies. Not that Lady Fiona would have a problem with that. Even the baggy brown dress couldn't disguise her figure.

Belinda would have only had a bite of muffin, Jarrod thought with a start as he watched Fiona round on her third.

"Your majesty," she said seriously, "you must take another one or else I am likely to eat them all."

"I'll forgive you this time," he said with a small smile, "as they are your favourite. If they were blueberry, I'm quite sure our positions would be reversed."

She smiled her dimpled smile at him and finished her muffin.

"What else do you do besides crocheting and mending?" Jarrod asked.

"I enjoy knitting, although I usually do that when I'm alone," she responded. "The clicking of the needles often irritates people. I also like reading." Fiona almost winced. Saying it out loud just showed how dull her life really was.

Jarrod wondered what she was thinking that would pucker her brow so. "Do you ride?" he asked.

"No, your majesty," Fiona responded with a shake of her head.

"No?"

"No," she replied firmly.

"Why not?"

"Fiona? Are you in here?" interrupted Nia, sticking her head into the room. "Oh, your majesty. I didn't see you there." She entered the room and gave him a curtsy. "What are you two doing?"

"Talking," Fiona said with a raised eyebrow.

"I was actually inviting Lady Fiona out for a ride," Jarrod expanded as Nia crossed over to them. "You are welcome to join us."

"I would love to, but I'm not so sure about Fiona. She's quite afraid of horses," Nia said, sitting on another of the many chairs in the room.

"Really?" he asked, turning his head to look at Fiona in surprise.

A slight blush covered her cheeks, and her needle flashed faster. "Perhaps."

"What about them scares you?" he asked curiously.

"She thinks they are going to bite off her hand," Nia explained for her sister, "with their 'large teeth'."

"Most of them are actually quite gentle," Jarrod said to Fiona.

"Nevertheless, I am not riding," Fiona responded.

"Oh, come on, Fiona," her sister pleaded. "Ride with us."

"Absolutely not."