Sanc Kingdom

Days after Trowa's fateful meeting with the King, Relena was still despondent. It was quite the task for her maidservants to rouse her from bed each morning, and today was no different. The balmy summer weather and birds chirping in her garden served as nothing but a rude awakening for the Princess. She had dreamt, once again, of her wedding day, only her bridegroom was Trowa - as he should have been. But it was not to be, she reminded herself, and reality was more bitter than the herbs in her morning tea.

After a halfhearted attempt at breakfast, Relena joined her ladies-in-waiting in the garden. It was far too lovely a day to be cooped up indoors, Lady Hilde had insisted; although taking their needlework outside did little to endear Relena to the tedious task that she had yet to learn to enjoy. She would have rather spent the day astride her trusty steed, Pagan, who was still a spirited companion despite his advancement in years. Surely a nice, long ride would clear her head. But alas, the Princess had other duties to attend to...

As Relena settled in her usual chair outside, she glanced about the group of ladies. One of them, the sole redhead in their court who was known for her enviable mane, was noticeably absent.

The Princess turned to Lady Dorothy Catalonia of Iberia, who always seemed to know what everybody else was up to.

"Where is Lady Catherine?"

Dorothy did not disappoint. "Oh, you didn't hear?" She fanned her dark lashes in Relena's direction. "Her family sent for her to return home at once. Apparently, the Duke and Duchess are calling upon the Blooms…"

Relena felt a prickling sensation in her chest. "Whom?"

"Why, the Bartons, of course," Dorothy said, as if it were completely obvious.

The pressure inside Relena's chest squeezed her until she feared she couldn't breathe.

"What?" she gasped. "So soon?"

"Well, you wouldn't expect a man like Trowa Barton to stay on the market much longer, would you, your Highness?" Dorothy spread her palms.

"Hush, Dorothy," Hilde snapped from the other side of Relena. The dark-haired girl gave the Princess a sympathetic smile, and abandoned her needlework to grasp Relena's hand. "It does seem rather sudden," Hilde said to Relena. "But… perhaps they have another reason to visit?"

"Please," Dorothy scoffed. "What other reason would they have? I'd be willing to wager that the King arranged this himself, as recompense for the Barton's family's most public embarrassment."

Relena's mouth dropped open while Hilde shot Dorothy a withering glare. "Take some care with your words, milady," she cautioned the other woman. Dorothy shrugged and tossed her long, flaxen hair over her shoulder.

"I don't mean to be cruel," she said matter-of-factly. "I am merely stating that it would be a sensible match. A Bloom girl could do no better than a Barton."

Relena's throat had gone dry. She once thought that she could do no better than a Barton, too.

Dorothy gave her a triumphant smile. "But you, your Highness, have secured the highest prize of all; the hand of Crown Prince Quatre of Arabia." She spoke the title with undisguised reverence. "Now, that is quite an admirable feat. I'd congratulate you, were I not insanely jealous." Her violet eyes gleamed.

As if spurred by Dorothy's words, the other ladies in their group began resounding their congratulations to the Princess. Relena accepted them with a faint smile.

"Thank you, everyone. I'm… quite overwhelmed at the moment. If you'll excuse me."

With that, Relena rose from her seat, gathering up her skirts, and started back toward her chamber, ignoring the murmuring of the women behind her.

The Princess barely made it to her terrace before she heard the sound of skirts rustling behind her, accompanied by light, quick footsteps. She paused in dismay, ready to tell whichever one of the ladies who'd followed her that she wished to be alone. But, then, she knew exactly who she would find before she even turned around.

"What is it, Dorothy?" Relena groaned, her back still to the garden.

"Your Highness, please accept my apologies for my careless remarks." Dorothy's voice was smooth as honey. Relena rolled her eyes before turning around. Dorothy dropped into a low curtsy.

"No need for such pretenses." Relena waved a hand, her irritation mounting by the minute. "What more is it you wish to say? I will warn you," she added, reaching up to shield her eyes from the sun that had begun climbing high in the sky. "My patience for certain… subjects is quite short at the moment."

"Right. I understand completely, your Highness. Now let's get you out of the sun..." Dorothy pressed closer to Relena, laying a hand on her arm and steering her toward the terrace doors that led into the chamber from the garden. Relena grimaced but allowed her lady to lead her inside; she was there to attend to her, after all, even if, at times Dorothy's "assistance" could be rather overbearing.

Once inside, Dorothy led Relena to her chaise lounge, then sent after the maidservants for refreshments. Relena didn't care for anything in the moment but didn't stop Dorothy, either.

"I hope you don't mind my taking the liberty," Dorothy said as she took a seat opposite Relena. "I grew accustomed to having servants of my own back home." She batted her long lashes, and Relena stifled a laugh.

"Well, you needn't be shy in my court."

"No, and I appreciate that." Dorothy paused and gave the Princess a meaningful look. Relena returned it with a puzzled one of her own.

"Yes, Dorothy?"

The blonder woman sighed and sank her cheek into her palm. "Oh, Relena- your Highness, I mean. Don't you see? I pity you." At that, Dorothy reached across the space between them and grasped Relena's hands in her own.

"Pity me?" Relena's brows shot up. "I thought you said you envied me?"

"All right, perhaps it's a bit of both." Dorothy dropped Relena's hands, heaving a much louder sigh. "I'm envious, of course, of your good fortune. I would trade places with you in a heartbeat."

Relena's lips twitched. "I would let you, if I could…"

Dorothy's eyes flashed. "And that is why I pity you for what little regard you are treating this opportunity. Why, you're about to become the richest, most powerful woman in the world… and you're miserable." Dorothy shook her head to the side. "I simply don't understand it."

Relena pitied Dorothy in turn, although she wouldn't say it. "Perhaps you would, if you had a dream, only to have it snatched away before it could be realized."

"What dream?" Dorothy sat up straight and spread her hands. "The dream of being Queen? Or of marrying a rich, handsome man? Because it seems to me that all of your dreams will soon come to fruition."

Relena frowned at the other woman. "It is far from the same dream. I wish to be Queen of my homeland, to carry on my family's name, and to marry the man I love. Not to be carted off to a foreign kingdom and forced to marry an utter stranger, who-" Relena's voice caught, and she lifted a hand to her throat, as if that could quell the sudden onset of tears stinging her eyes.

Dorothy's eyes widened, and she reached for Relena's hands once more. "I'm sorry. It seems everything I say upsets you. I am only trying to help."

Relena nodded, trying to believe her. But it was hard to know what to believe, any more.

Dorothy patted her hand. "Your Highness, perhaps you just need time to adjust to the idea. I am sure you will start to see this for the adventure it is." Her eyes glimmered, and suddenly Relena realized what Dorothy was after.

But before Relena could call Dorothy out on her scheme, the maidservants arrived, carrying trays that held glasses and plates of pastries. They set them on the small table between the women. Relena ignored the baked goods but reached for a glass of lemonade, made with imported lemons and lavender from her own garden.

Dorothy had paused to enjoy her own drink. "It tastes like home," she said dreamily. "How I do miss the warmer climate…"

"You wish to join my court in Arabia. Is that it?" Relena sighed.

Dorothy set her glass back down on the table and clutched at her chest, laughing airily. "Why, I never once thought-"

"I'll have to speak to my father to see if that sort of thing is allowed…" Relena began, already dreading the conversation.

"Of course it is," Dorothy said hurriedly, arching forward in her seat. "Why, any Princess coming from so far away must surely be allowed to bring her own court. But if it happens to be a financial concern…" Dorothy's lips curved upward. "I am certain my family can afford to pay my way."

Relena barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "I doubt that will be a problem. But may I ask why you wish to remain in my court? You could return home, if you pleased, or find another court in Europe…"

"But I came here to serve you, Princess Relena," Dorothy gasped, as if any other notion were ludicrous.

"And to find a rich husband," Relena said dryly.

"And they don't come any richer than in Arabia, do they?" Dorothy grinned and reached for her lemonade. Relena shook her head at her friend, so shameless in her ambitions, and a smile crept over the princess's face.

"Well, I have to admit, I wouldn't mind the company. I feared the journey would be rather lonely, let alone settling into a whole new place..."

"A palace," Dorothy breathed, gazing out the terrace doors to something beyond and unknown. "An Arabian palace… can you even imagine?!"

Relena hadn't imagined many pleasant things, ever since her father delivered the news of her unwitting betrothal. Perhaps, just for a moment, she would allow herself to dream that the future could turn out better than she dared to hope.

- RGS