Page 15 of How Not to Marry a Prince

"Um, yes, I suppose so," Amador replied. One didn't exactly refuse a gift from a king. He just wished he knew why Sohan was being so nice.

He didn't dare hope the answer was the one he most wanted to hear.

Never mind he'd only been here a few days. Bit much to be getting so completely flustered by one person.

Even if that one person felt safe. Comforting. Seemed kind, gentle. Showed all signs of being a good leader and not an unbending tyrant.

If only Amador didn't somehow manage to make a complete and utter cake of himself every single time they crossed paths. Dinner and a bath. The things a mother—well, a good mother—made certain her child got.

Climbing out of the bath once he'd finished, Amador dried off leisurely, enjoying the smell of the soap he'd used, sweet orange and basil with a touch of frankincense. The basket of items caught his eye, and he couldn't resist poking through it more, setting aside a lotion that matched the soap he'd just used.

As he'd thought earlier, there was indeed a bottle of perfume. There was no maker's mark on it, but there didn't need to be: the pale lavender glass with a soft opalescent sheen was tell enough. House Vérène, one of the finest perfumeries in the world. Some would argue the finest.

Removing the stopper, he breathed in the scent that washed over him. Orange again, this time orange blossoms with a bare hint of bitter orange, with notes of pear, oakmoss, and coriander. It was an absolutely stunning scent, fresh and delicately pretty.

It was a strangely extravagant gift for someone Sohan was simply worried about like a mother over a child that kept running into or falling down things. He had apparently told everyone Amador was to be treated as his guest, though, and nobody who did things at the king's command did them by halves. So whoever had assembled the basket at Sohan's behest had probably simply erred on being thorough.

Replacing the stopper, he took the lotion and the perfume to his vanity, then headed for the bed—and stopped as a knock came at the door.

Soledad rose from the desk to go answer it and returned with a note.

Amador's heart sped up—and dropped as he saw the small slip of white paper that was nothing like the green paper from before.

"You seem popular tonight, Your Highness," Soledad replied with a smile as he handed the note off.

"Haha," Amador replied absently as he opened the note.

You have ignored me for three nights, and I shan't tolerate further. Meet me in the garden immediately, or I will make you regret it! Marcellette

Amador laughed. He'd been so wrapped up in his plans, he'd completely forgotten she'd promised to show him 'something interesting' in the blue garden. "I've an appointment with a friend that I've neglected these past few days. Bibiana, would you fetch me something simple and plain?"

"Of course." She bustled off to the dressing room and was back in a moment.

Once he was dressed, Amador said, "You two go on to bed. I'll see you in the morning, or afternoon, even. After this long night, I doubt I'll be waking early."

"Yes, Your Highness."

After they'd gone, Amador tucked the note into his pocket and headed out to see interesting things in a garden.

It took him a couple of tries, but he finally found the section labeled Blue Garden, and crept through the archway. Convincing his bodyguards to remain behind, and where they wouldn't be seen, took a good deal more work, but when he explained who he was meeting and why, they finally relented.

"Psst! Here! No, the cherry trees!"

Like he could tell one trees from another when it was so dark. He was lucky he hadn't dumped himself in another pond. He finally caught sight of a madly waving fan and followed it and Marcellette's imperious summons to a pair of cheery trees fronted by shrubs that came up to his hips. "If your Vladlena catches us huddling together in the bushes…"

Marcellette laughed. "She'll demand to know what mischief I'm up to now and why I'm dragging poor innocent you into it. She has no room to talk, though, because she's even more involved in this particular mischief than I am. I think we're close to midnight now, shouldn't be long."

"I am most intrigued," Amador replied, and lapsed into silence.

True to Marcellette's pronouncement, they didn't wait long.

Two figures crept into the garden, speaking quietly, but their words carrying anyway. "Why do you keep doing this if you're never going to say anything? I'm telling you, if you just told him—"

"Not this again," Léonce said. "Stop it, please. I'll say something… eventually."

Vladlena snorted. "I don't know why you're so scared. I promise you that you'll get exactly the reaction you're hoping for. You'd have already gotten it if His Highness ever managed to stay awake to catch you, which clearly he does not."

"He always falls asleep reading or writing," Léonce muttered, then added, "I'm a gardener. He's a prince. Even if he didn't care about that, the entire rest of the palace would, including his brother the king. Now can we stop having this conversation for the thousandth time and get on with it?"

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