Ro woke up next to Antonio that morning, as she had been for the past several weeks. There was no shame in anticipating their wedding vows now, since there wasn't going to be a wedding for them anymore. And she was happy. Honestly, this scenario was the best thing that could've happened.

Weddings, from what she had been told, represented not only the joining of two lives, but also the union of two families. In Apollonia, the vows were exchanged between the groom and the bride's father, and brides were also expected to give up a childhood toy to her husband, signalling the end of her childhood. Since Ro had no father, and no childhood toys, neither of those traditions could exist (unless she had Sagi stand in, but that would be rather ridiculous).

She had already promised herself to Antonio wholly, so all that a wedding would do was remind her that she had no family.

She kissed his cheek gently, before slowly climbing out of bed so as not to wake him. Padding across the floor, she walked over to the small wardrobe outfitted with a couple dresses that were considered appropriate for the second-most important woman in the future king's life. Ro grabbed all of the necessary garments and balled them up, before leaving the bedroom in just her chemise. The sun would begin rising soon, and she didn't want to miss it.

It was comforting, how dawn and dusk looked so similar in Apollonia compared to her own island. Everything else was so foreign, and she never quite understood her place in the courtly games, or what was the right thing to do in terms of Antonio's betrothal.

But, if she got out of bed when the sky was still that lovely twilight blue, and sat on the beach as the sun rose, she could pretend, for just a half hour, that her life was still as simple as it had been before meeting Antonio.

She swam in the ocean in her nightdress, watching as the water turned a fiery orange around her, just as she'd done every morning for as long as she could remember. She laid back in the water, letting her hair fan out like a starfish. Ro closed her eyes, allowing herself to focus on the rhythm of the waves, and not the rather novel direction her life had taken, until she heard a loud voice call her name.

"Ro! Ro, is that you?"

Ro quickly pulled herself upright, before looking for the source of the voice. It was Princess Isabella, running down the beach in nothing but her nightdress and dressing gown, with her older sister hurrying to catch up, similarly outfitted.

"Your Highnesses! Is everything alright?"

"Isa! Don't scream someone's name like that when they're swimming! She'll think you saw a shark!' Princess Genevieve scolded once she caught up to her. She then looked out at Ro, calling, "Are you alright? Shall we swim out and rescue you?"

Ro nodded, swallowing a bit of water in the process, before replying, "I'm alright! But you should come out and join me! This is the best place to watch the sunrise!"

Isabella wasted no time, untying her dressing gown and throwing it on a rock, before running into the surf. Genevieve quickly put a hand on her sister's arm to stop her.

"I'll look after her, Princess Genevieve!" Ro called to the shore.

Isabella turned back to her sister. "You could look after me too, Gen. Please? Come swim with me?"

Genevieve begrudgingly untied her dressing gown too, before laying it carefully on the same rock where Isabella's was balled up on. Before long, both sisters were swimming in the surf with Ro, splashing one another and giggling.

It was strange. Ro had never seen Genevieve like this, her wet hair in a loose plait from sleeping, her face unpowdered and without rouge. She wondered if this is what her family saw of her all the time.

"I thought most princesses didn't know how to swim."

"We're special!" Isabella said, before diving under the water and flicking her feet up like a mermaid.

Genevieve eyed her and addressed her more seriously. "Our parents insisted we were taught by the Royal Navy, after. . .you know."

"I see. But you seem to swim for enjoyment too, no?"

"Oh yes! Every summer we spend a month in Maguelonne, and we play on the beach for hours. Sometimes Maman and Papa join us when they're not too busy with work," Isabella replied, "If we beg her, Maman will sometimes even swim with us as well! But she enjoys looking for rocks on the beach more."

"But your father doesn't swim with you?"

"Papa can't swim. He was born a commoner, so only Maman learned."

Genevieve gave Isabella a look that seemed to say she was disclosing too much information to someone they had only recently met. However, Genevieve did turn back to Ro and said,

"Our father likes to look at the plants on the beach. He always tries to take seeds back home to Cheminsdor, but they never grow in his garden."

"Remember when he took a bucket of sand in the carriage with us and only watered the seeds with saltwater?" Isabella giggled.

Genevieve laughed. "Poor Papa! The saltwater completely ruined the bearded irises he was trying to cultivate that year!"

"You mean iris germanica, Gen?"

"Oh god, yes! Can you imagine if Papa heard me refer to a plant by its colloquial name?" Genevieve cleared her throat, trying to stop laughing, "Ro, what were the plants like on your island?"

"Um, green, I suppose?" Ro laughed nervously, "A copy of Clusius' Rariorum plantarum historia was in my trunk, but none of the pictures really matched what was on the island with me."

"Did you read it often?"

"It was the only book I had, besides The History of Little Goody Two Shoes."

"I'm tired!" Isabella announced, "Geny, want to go back to the beach now?"

Genevieve looked at the sky, where the sun had not fully risen yet, and said, "I believe I'll stay out for just a moment longer. Ro, would you mind swimming back with her?"

"Not at all! I'm getting rather tired too."

Isabella and Ro swam back to shore in silence, before plopping down on the sand in giddy exhaustion. Ro smiled at her.

"That was fun."

"I like seeing Gen relax. She worries about everything too much. Especially me." Isabella said, digging her toes in the sand.

"She worries about you because she loves you."

"I know," Isabella replied, a wry smile on her face, "I'm very loveable."

Ro cackled. "Yes, you are."

They were silent for a few more moments, watching Genevieve dive in and out of the water. Finally, Isabella looked up at Ro.

"It must be hard," she said, "not knowing who your family is. Or if you have one at all."

Ro bristled a little, glancing down at the girl sitting beside her.

"I have a family."

"Right, the animals. Sorry, I forgot."

"It's alright."

"It's not the same though, is it?" Isabella responded thoughtfully. "Like, I have older sisters, but there will always be one I never knew."

Isabella paused for a moment, before confessing, "I never know how to act when they mention her."

"That must be hard as well." Ro hesitantly touched Isabella's arm, the way she'd seen Princess Genevieve do so many times, and so naturally. If she truly was this girl's sister, wouldn't she be able to touch her without trepidation? Surprisingly, Isabella leaned into her touch.

"Do you think you're my sister?" Isabella inquired, looking at her with wide eyes.

"It's possible. I look quite a bit like you, and I'm about the right age. But your sister- your real sister- acts so differently than me. And I don't think she believes I'm her."

"It's really hard for Genevieve. She pretends it isn't, but it is." she looked at her feet. "I don't think I should tell you this, but sometimes I hear her crying at night about it. The only person she talks to about it is Derek."

"Derek and Genevieve are twins." Ro recited, almost as soon as the name was out of Isabella's mouth.

"Yes. Did Genevieve tell you that? I don't remember if I did."

"Someone must've. I don't remember how I know."

"What do you remember? About your family?"

Ro screwed up her face, thinking.

"I had a pet canary. My mother was pregnant when I left home. I'm very important where I come from." The last sentence was spoken like a mantra.

Then, she considered that statement a little more. "Perhaps I'm not actually important, but I always felt important. That's what I remember most. My family really loved me. For the first few months on the island, I hardly left the beach. I kept thinking that my parents would come for me."

Isabella looked out to the beach.

"I think you definitely could be my sister. And I hope you are, because I like you."

Ro smiled fondly. "I like you too."

"My mother and father will be here for the wedding. If anyone will know whether you're truly Rosella, it's them."

Ro nodded. That wasn't much, but it was all she had. She indicated her head to where Genevieve was coming out of the water, out of breath and smiling wide. Ro smiled back.

"Isa, we should go. I still don't know what gown I'm wearing tonight."

Ro looked between them. "What's tonight?"

Genevieve sighed in exasperation. "Of course Antonio didn't tell you. There's going to be a big engagement ball tonight. You will be my lady in waiting, so you must come."

Ro suddenly felt her eyes burn. "You want me to be your lady in waiting?"

"Of course! You're the king's mistress, but no one will actually acknowledge it."

Oh.

Genevieve hesitated for a moment. "You don't have anything to wear, do you?" At Ro's head shake, she said, "Come to my room after you bathe and dress. You can help me pick my gown, and then you can borrow something of mine."

"Are you sure?"

"Picking out dresses is what ladies in waiting do. It'll be good practice. Come on Isa." And then she turned on her heel and left, in the way Ro had seen her do so many times before, like she didn't care whether or not she was followed.

Isabella, as Ro had seen her do many times before, got up to follow Genevieve.

"Isabella?"

"Yes?"

"Even if I'm not- Rosella- I mean, you can still sort of be my sister. I think of Tika as my little sister, and we are certainly not related." Isabella laughed at that.

"I'd like that."

Ro smiled, turning back to the beach.

"Ro?"

She turned, and Isabella was standing a few feet from her.

"My family calls me Isa."

Ro nodded.

"Good to know."

"See you soon, Ro."

"See you soon. . . Isa."