Page 11 of A Cake of Cherries and Charm

Rosie had never been good at small talk. She was too frank, Snow liked to tease her. She would tell the truth until it got her into trouble for her efforts.

But then again, the prince himself seemed far less gregarious than his brother, and though his words were polite, they didn’t clutter up the space around them. If only she could speak like him. Honest yet kind.

To her relief, they arrived at the great front entry. From there, they quickly moved to the dining hall, which was now full of people.

Unlike the night before, however, the crowd seemed to sparkle. Women wore diamonds and other precious gems on their fingers, around their wrists, on their necks, and in their hair. The men were nearly as bright and polished in their colored breeches, ruffled shirts, and shiny boots.

“There you are!” Frederick called from across the large room. He and Snow were standing at the head of a line of people. Rosie hoped they would allow her to simply watch from the side, but her hopes were in vain. Jonathan immediately moved to stand at Snow’s left so that all those who met Frederick and Snow would immediately move on to meet Jonathan and Rosie. Snow gave Rosie a questioning look, but Rosie just shook her head, and Snow sighed. She didn’t seem surprised either that their mother had suddenly felt ill.

But then the introductions started, and Rosie was so overwhelmed that she had little time to think of her mother. She met lords and ladies, earls and countesses, dukes and duchesses, and many more individuals she would never be able to name again. They all bowed and curtsied low to Jonathan and then to her, but Rosie couldn’t help noticing the number of ladies who smirked slightly when they glanced up from looking at her dress.

It doesn’t matter, she chided herself. I’m probably imagining it. And if I’m not… Well, it doesn’t matter.

“Lady Rose,” Prince Jonathan said, reclaiming her attention. “Let me introduce you to Lady Sandra and her daughter, Miss Marianne. They are visiting from our neighboring kingdom, Thornhope. Lady Sandra’s husband is my father’s top military officer, General William Radish.”

Rosie was dismayed to see that Lady Sandra was none other than the woman who had glared at her the entire evening before. And her daughter, Miss Marianne–the one who had mocked Rosie for her question about dinner–was now openly sneering at Rosie’s dress. But Rosie did her best to swallow her pride and smile as she returned their curtsies.

“How do you do?” she asked. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” But her words were belied by the awareness that she’d publicly questioned Miss Marianne’s intelligence the evening before.

“Of course,” Lady Sandra replied coolly. Before she could say more, though, Miss Marianne laced her arm through Prince Jonathan’s right arm and smiled sweetly up at him.

“I’m ready to go to dinner when you are, Sire.”

Rosie froze. She couldn’t even pretend to know the prince well. Their entire acquaintance had been made up of the four minutes of talk they’d shared as they’d walked the halls. But if he left her now to escort Miss Marianne, Rosie would have to find a place to sit on her own.

And as much as she dreaded facing the crowd with the prince at her side, she dreaded facing it alone even more.

Much to her relief, however, and Miss Marianne’s obvious disappointment, he only gave the girl a kind smile and said, “As lovely as your company is, Miss Marianne, Lady Rose is my partner for supper tonight. Frederick has asked me to help her settle in.”

Miss Marianne blinked rapidly up at him as though she couldn’t believe her ears, but Lady Sandra took her daughter by the arm and gently reminded her that they were holding up the line.

As the next set of guests was introduced, Rosie couldn’t help wondering if Prince Jonathan was as content to escort her tonight as he appeared to be, or if he was only too polite to let on that he would have preferred Miss Marianne, who seemed to expect him to pair off with her.

She would never ask, of course. Not even she was that candid. But it did make her wonder what kinds of alliances and animosities she was walking into. It felt much like walking into a spider’s web and finding oneself caught in an invisible, sticky mass of entanglements. Entanglements already made stickier by her heedless words from the night before.

Finally, the trumpets announced the arrival of the king and queen, and as soon as they were seated, everyone else headed toward the tables. Prince Jonathan held out his arm to Rosie once again before leading her to the same table as the night before. There he pulled out a chair for her two seats away from the king. Once she was seated, he sat in the chair beside the king’s.

As she sat, Rosie glanced up to see Miss Marianne’s eyes on her, glaring daggers at both of them.

After the prayer of thanks was given, the feasting began, and as Prince Jonathan spoke mostly with his father, and Rosie’s other neighbor appeared to be deaf, it gave her time to gather her thoughts.

What was it, she wondered to herself, that had made her so worried about being separated from Prince Jonathan before dinner? Was it because he was Frederick’s brother, and she had come to trust Frederick with her life? That was part of it, she guessed. Even though he had been in his bear form for the vast majority of their acquaintance, Frederick had protected the girls and their mother jealously whenever he was with them. And she knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t have entrusted her to his brother if he hadn’t felt she would be safe with him.

But there was something else, she decided as she studied the sharp angles of Prince Jonathan’s jaw. His manners, while somewhat distant, didn’t seem contrived as so many in the castle appeared to be. She had already seen more false smiles and simpering that night than she ever had in her life. But Prince Jonathan’s countenance and words were… straightforward. Unadorned. And after the evening of forced introductions and grandiose compliments paid to her while she stood beside him, that was brilliantly refreshing.

Not long into the dinner, the king stood and began to make a speech.

“You know that we had all but given up hope of ever getting our son back,” he said, looking down at Frederick with obvious fondness. “But thanks to Providence and three brave ladies who took him in as their own, I’m not only regaining my son, but I’m gaining a daughter as well.”

Rosie felt her heart swell with pride as Snow glowed, radiant in her joy beside Frederick.

The king raised his goblet. “To the health of Ladies Magdalene, Rose Red, and Snow White.” The dinner guests all raised their goblets and then drank. “And now the songs shall begin!” he said, looking around eagerly. “Who wishes to begin with our Song of Betrothal?”

“Your Majesty,” came the now-familiar bell-like voice. Rosie looked around with trepidation until she found Miss Marianne smiling sweetly at the king. “I was told by Lady Snow White that her sister has a lovely voice. Perhaps she ought to have the honors.”

Rosie felt the blood drain from her face.

“Of course!” cried the king, turning to smile at Rosie. “The sister of the bride ought to have the honor of singing for us!”