Maren smiled brightly at the prince as he blabbered on about himself. They sat in metal garden chairs, facing the other beneath an arbor with jasmine vines that reached up the lengths of its legs. The temperature was warmer than usual for this time of year, but the wind still blew cold.
"And then," the prince laughed. "Henry and I kicked the door open and the man was wearing a diaper!"
Maren attempted a smile, but it was tight — plastic.
She had completely tuned out the first ten minutes of Prince Darrin's story.
Her mind was stuck on Cora.
She hadn't seen her all morning — that was normal. But after last night, Maren was all out of sorts. Thoughts of Cora meshed together in confusing cacophony. Memories plagued her mind.
The upset.
The things she said.
Maren flinched, and the prince noticed. He'd thrown his head back, laughing at the memory of his story, and when the Sapphire Princess hadn't laughed the same, he peered at her.
"Are you alright, Princess?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes.
Maren jumped, slightly, fixing the somber that kept slipping into her expression.
"Yes," she answered. "Just a bit tired is all. The last few days have been…exciting."
The prince gazed at her, nodding.
At first, Maren thought she was being rude. She thought he might be offended, and say something.
Instead, he reached his hand out, grasping hers.
"I understand what you mean," Prince Darrin said. "The trials haven't even truly begun, and yet there's a great weight upon each of us."
She was surprised by his sudden show of affection. She thought the action was forward and a bit presumptuous, but not untoward.
The prince searched her eyes, and when she did not respond, he continued. "I cannot imagine what this is like for you and Princess Cora. I have heard much about you both from my younger sister Selma…"
He hesitated, uncertainty in his eyes.
Then, he spoke again. "For some of the Princes, marrying two women of the Goddess may seem like a dream come true, but in my case — and forgive me if this is a bit brash —" he lowered his eyes, and then lifted them once more. "It's overwhelming."
Maren blinked, the tension in her shoulders softening.
She had not expected him to be so…honest.
Maren had lived at the Great Palace for many years without her family. She spent those years living with a person whom she both cared deeply for, and walked on eggshells around. She took much solace in her friends — Ariel and Lexi — yet, Maren always felt she was lacking something.
Maren felt no romantic affection for this prince, but when he took her hand, she knew how deeply last night had truly affected her.
What Maren truly craved was not midnight meetings and fleeting affection.
She craved intimacy.
Maren smiled politely, squeezing the prince's hand once before pulling her own into her lap. She sighed and then replied.
"It is me you should forgive, Prince Darrin." Maren said, offering a soft smile. "It seems I completely misjudged you."
The prince smirked, leaning back in his chair. "In what way did you misjudge me?"
She shook her head slightly, looking away, and then back at him. "I suppose back in the throne room. Perhaps it was something about when our eyes met."
The Prince's smirk grew into a bashful grin, and it was now his turn to look away. "Ah, well…I am nearly eight years your senior, Princess. The last time I saw you, you were little more than a child. And now you're a woman fit to run an Empire."
He looked back at her, a slight blush across his cheeks.
"What man wouldn't have…arrogant thoughts?"
Maren covered her mouth with her hand and laughed, poking fun at Prince Darrin for saying something so flirtatious and cheesy.
Their midday date ended in good fun and laughs, and Maren eventually returned to her quarters.
She went on about her day, her mind swimming back and forth about Cora, and her odd words and actions.
In the moment, when Cora had explained her dream, Maren felt she had to believe her to some extent.
But did she truly believe there was some great horror within Forsyth that none of the Star Court knew about?
Of course not.
It simply didn't make sense.
However, Maren also knew that this world did have great magic — her and Cora were living testaments to that fact. Maren did not believe there was a horror brewing beneath the library, but she did know it terrified Cora enough that there must be some truth to what she saw.
Later in the day, as the sun just began its descent beyond the mountain, Maren changed into a more loose-fitted gown, and sensible shoes.
She considered that she may have grossly misjudged the prince's personality the day of the initial meeting. In fact, after speaking with him one-on-one, she thought he may actually make a good emperor. And --- perhaps one day --- be a gentle husband to both her and Cora.
However, Maren also knew that the trials hadn't even begun, and there were still five other Kingdoms to visit.
Forsyth was only the beginning.
Finally, Maren reached Vermis Library, only for her quest to be squashed by something she knew would be problematic.
The lock.
She grimaced, staring down at it, cursing her own forgetfulness. With a frustrated huff, she tipped her head back and drew in a breath. She straightened, she turned, and nearly let out a bloodcurdling shriek.
Princess Selma Laurant of Forsyth — Darrin's younger sister — stood before her.
Selma didn't move. She simply watched Maren with those large, unblinking green eyes. Maren always thought Selma's gaze bordered on the invasive side, but now, she wouldn't dare use the word 'bordering.'
"Leaving so soon?" Selma asked, her eyes wide, but her tone wavering.
There was something fragile about her now.
Maren swallowed her scream, forcing it back down her throat, to dissipate in her chest. Instead, Maren exhaled sharply.
"Your brother allowed us inside yesterday," Maren replied coolly. "But Princess Cora wasn't feeling well, so we had to leave earlier than I would have liked. I was hoping to return and see if I could find a book I thought might be here, but it seems to be locked."
Selma nodded, her hands trembled slightly at her sides. "Y-yes. My parents keep that place locked up well… and for good reason."
Maren's stomach turned. A chill crawled down her spine. Something was off about Selma, but she just couldn't put her finger on what it was. She didn't look sick, or pale, but there was something rather frayed about her — like a crochet doll with a string or two that had come loose. The deep shadows beneath her eyes told Maren she'd had many sleepless nights.
Selma swallowed, licking her dry lips before stepping forward.
Maren's eyes widened as she approached. Every hair on her body stood on end. Selma walked as if some unseen magic slowed her pace and the world around them. Each step against the stone echoed within the halls more loudly than the last.
Maren held her breath — frozen in place.
Selma stopped beside her, staring past Maren. Her body was still, yet her fingers trembled.
"I think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I may have what you're looking for."
Maren didn't respond. She didn't look at Selma or react. She simply stood there, processing the girls' words.
"The book." Selma said, finally.
Maren let out a trembling exhale, straightening her spine. She didn't even know what this book looked like, nor had she heard of it before yesterday.
How does Selma know? Maren thought, her eyes wide.
How did she know about the book? How could she possibly know Maren would be here — now — searching for a book that Cora had only seen in a dream? A dream she'd had only just the night before?
She couldn't.
It simply wasn't possible.
"At the dinner for the Prince Candidates," Selma whispered again. "When chaos ensues — find me behind the roses, and bring Princess Cora."
She paused, closing her eyes, her voice low, but laced with pain.
"There is much for us to discuss."