My Sweet Daisy

Chapter 4 - The Prince's Disappointment

Chapter 4

The Prince's Disappointment

Raphael, Prince Richard's valet, stood above his breakfast table, reading out the prince's schedule for the day.

"For this morning, you have a meeting with the Prime Minister at eleven. I'll suggest you begin your preparation, Your Highness." The prince wrinkled his nose with distaste. Left to him, he'd sit at the table all day reading, Raphael knew, and that was why his duties to His Highness included nagging him until he left his chambers, a task the Queen herself admitted was daunting. "The new minister is known to be very punctual. You don't want to keep a busy man waiting, do you?"

"I can be ready thirty minutes to the meeting time, Raphael." Richard waved him off.

"Your Highness, thirty minutes? Your breakfast is untouched and you need to__"

"Good morning," Elisandra sang brightly as she skipped onto her brother's balcony. "Are you two going at each other's throat already?"

Richard folded the newspaper and beckoned to her to join him. "What brings the princess here this morning?"

"We missed you at breakfast. Mother was grumbling in disappointment again but apparently the object of her disappointment had no thought whatsoever about joining us at the table." She snorted at his bed-tousled hair and the night shirt he hadn't yet changed out of.

"How is mother doing?" Richard asked.

"If you care to know, you will walk into her quarters this instant and inquire about her health. A good son should go and wish his mother 'Good day' at least once a day. Why am I always the one left to do it?" she flopped down into a chair and took a consoling bite of the biscuit she had picked from Richard's plate.

"What time is it?"

"Forty-three minutes past nine, Your Highness," supplied Raphael instantly.

"Good Lord! I've been sitting here for almost two hours." The servant coughed in polite agreement. "And you've been standing there for almost two hours, Raphael! No wonder you're so grumpy. Your legs must be stiff. Take a seat and join us for breakfast."

"I will have my breakfast later, Your Highness, when your table has been cleared and I've been properly dismissed after seeing to your toiletries." Raphael quickly moved to prepare a fresh cup of tea for the prince and retreated to his post exactly ten feet behind him.

"So I eat while my servant stands on his old legs watching me."

He began to fidget uncomfortably with the gold buttons on his uniform when the prince's gaze did not sway from him but kindled with a light of amusement. Raphael had waited on the second prince from the nursery. He knew when he was about to hand him a reason to be uneasy. "Ignore me, please. My legs are as fit as a fiddle."

Richard exchanged a conspiring look with his sister over the rim of his teacup. He'd always found Raphael's resolve to stick to social hierarchy a sport.

"We eat out of the sweat and blood of this nation's citizens, but you decide to over-indulge and serve a spread for five people just for me?" Richard gesticulated over the trays of cakes and biscuits.

"It is difficult to determine what you'll prefer, Your Highness."

"Then at least sit and make up for the missing people around the table."

"Your Highness, I..."

"It's an order, Raphael. Sit!"

Alarmed by the command in his voice, Raphael scrambled into the nearest seat around the table, realizing too late he had sat too close to the prince. He signed when he saw the broad grin on the prince's face from the corners of his eyes. Sometimes, he truly wished the young prince was literally the angel people upheld him to be. He would have taken so much pleasure in clipping his wings.

"I have already been termed unfilial this morning, Raphael. It is not my wish to add inconsiderate to it before the day ends."

"Pardon me, Your Highness." He merely nodded his thanks this time as the prince stood up to pour him a cup of tea, added sugar and cream, and pushed a plate of biscuit in front of him.

"What news did the tabloid have to offer this week?" Elisandra began with a curious peek at the newspapers. "Is there any news that would impact this season?"

"The organizers of the TransCoast Tournaments have scheduled the tournaments to take off in Cacitel at the end of July this year which will fall within the season. The other three will take place in Delex, Rhidon and Flux a month apart from each to complete the tournaments before winter." He unfolded the newspaper again and spread it where his sister could read.

"Excellent planning." She hailed jubilantly before remembering Richard's unfortunate accident during the last season which had him permanently banned from the sports by order of the King. "Although it may not be as interesting as the one before it when some very fierce competitors were in the game."

"The horse racing match would take place as planned during the tournament and the advertisement for a duo match competitor for Harry Hallington is still ongoing. It'd be the focal point of the horse racing matches. Hallington has become a champion thrice in a row, a record breaker. Secondly, the matrons are having Bair-Harvel's opening ball for this season two weeks after the debutantes has been presented to the court. It is their promise to send out invitations to all the tons' eligible bachelors."

"I can think of one who will have the splendid honor of receiving the first invite," muttered Elisandra with a toothy grin but he went on as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"And there's a new son, the Viscount of Crestine, born to Count and Countess of Ergmon. Lady Ergmon withdrew her sponsorship at Bair-Harvel so she could stay in Ergmon Castle for the sake of the newborn."

"Nothing more? No one could capture His Royal Highness, Prince Richard going on one knee in front of Cacitel's most beautiful lady? It appears the media is not all that curious about you even at this time because you hardly exude stink for them to follow like flies. They must be missing the days when Edward was a teenager." She sat up straighter. "But I am very interested. How did your special meeting at the waterfall go?"

"There is not much to say," he muttered in a dead tone that made his unwillingness to expand on the theory very clear.

"Didn't things go as planned?" she asked.

"We enjoyed a pleasant time together. She looked genuinely delighted to accept the ring. But something tells me she prized the ring just the same as the present mother gave her. I fear my intentions may be lost on her."

Elisandra held her breathe, not daring to assume Lady Juliet turned down Richard's proposal. "Exactly what did she say?"

"Her precise wordings were that she doesn't want to be married this early."

"Ah," Elisandra nodded, looking down at her reflection on the creamy surface of the tea, wondering whether to be glad Juliet didn't jump at the first opportunity to become a princess or feel sorry for her brother. She decided relief was uppermost and she looked up, smiling rather brightly with it. "In an unexpected way, I understand her. When she's currently the centre of every ball and every festive occasion, why would she trade that immediately for the critical lifestyle as Prince Richard's future bride? There would be time for such eventualities in her life later, I suppose."

"For goodness sake, she's eighteen, will be nineteen in two months. Some girls are married by eighteen. Bella was engaged to Eddie when she was just fourteen. Juliet won't even give in to a long engagement. She still insisted I give her time before I make our engagement public."

"But then, Bella has been betrothed to Edward since birth. Even if they had not fallen helplessly in love with each other when they were in Gilhore, they would still have been destined for marriage. Their engagement held at that time was the proper thing for them, and the Crown Prince's bride should always be announced on his sixteenth birthday so it was also keeping up with tradition that nearly became buried before their time. I can't speak for Juliet since I can hardly predict her but perhaps you should be patient. Knowing you'd be bound by duty to marry by the end of year, she would likely give you a favourable answer soon. After all, who wouldn't want to be the name across every popular newspaper in Europe as the future princess of Berlin's Prince Richard whom every lady far and wide has been dying to land?" she grinned broadly. When her joke failed to elicit the responding smile she had hoped for, she sighed and picked up the spoon to stir her tea.