Page 4 of How Not to Marry a Prince

Who had the man been? Something about him had been vaguely familiar, but try as Amador might, he could not figure out why. Stupidly, he could still feel the man's arms around him, so very warm and steadying. So very safe. Like as long as the handsome stranger was right there, Ottokar couldn't come anywhere near him. If only life were that simple. That kind. The King of Portan himself would not be able to keep Ottokar from tormenting Amador.

"Beg pardon, but are you all right?" a voice asked.

Amador jerked to his feet and spun around, heart seizing before he registered the voice was not remotely anything like Ottakar's, far too soft and gentle. It was also familiar. Staring a moment, Amador finally realized why. "You're the gardener."

Léonce blinked. "Yes, I am a gardener. How did you know, erm… my lord?"

"Prince, actually," Amador said with a laugh. "I saw you briefly when I was exploring my chambers and stepped out onto the balcony. You were weeding a bed of roses. Fascinating all the inner gardens have glass over them, so they fare well no matter what the weather. Does that hold true in cold weather?"

"Um—yes, it does, though they take a good deal more work, then. Uh, Your Highness. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you. My apologies for barging into your garden."

"Not at all. Gardens are for people, whether to enjoy or to hide in." Léonce smiled fleetingly. "You'd be surprised how many people throughout the day, from the night collectors to even His Majesty, retreat to the gardens every day. It's why I'm quite proud to be a gardener."

"You should be," Amador said. "They're beautiful. I've heard about the roses of Harridor, but never about all the other plants and trees and flowers here." He smiled faintly and chanced, "I saw some lovely hydrangea earlier."

Léonce's face lit up. "I'm delighted you enjoyed them, Your Highness. They're imported from Karlow, just arrived last week, and I thought they'd do the Maiden Fountain justice."

"You thought correctly." At least Amador had a real goal for tomorrow now. "I am sorry all the same to interrupt whatever you are working on here." He finally gave a good look to the garden he'd fled to, which featured a weeping willow in pride of place, draped over a pond filled with pink and white fish. "Another beautiful space. You have an instinct for the work."

Flushing, Léonce replied, "Thank you, Your Highness. Would you like me to have tea or wine or something brought?"

"You know, wine would be marvelous. Thank you." Amador hesitated, then decided his day couldn't possibly get worse and asked, "Are you terribly busy? I'd love to hear more details about the famous roses and everything else you work on. Most people don't see the point of telling a prince the details of the pretty things we look at all day, but it must be quite the task to maintain such beautiful gardens."

Léonce smiled as bright as the sun, and it wasn't hard at all to see why Nazaire was in love with him. "It would be my honor, Your Highness, just let me call for your wine."

"Thank you, I deeply appreciate it. Make certain there is enough for two. I would never be so rude to drink alone in front of others."

"Yes, Your Highness," Léonce said with a laugh, and went off to see to the wine.

The morning arrived full of sunshine and promise. Amador dressed in his favorite bottle green jacket with matching black and green boots. A little flashy, but he needed all the help he could get in that regard. Unlike his siblings, who had the black-brown skin that was so highly regarded back home, his was more of a dull medium with even duller undertones. He wasn't ugly, but nobody described him as beautiful or striking or even interesting either. Passable was usually the kindest he got. His mother often wondered, loudly but seldom to his face, how she'd wound up with four beautiful children and one so homely.

With an endorsement like that, was it really so shocking nobody wanted to marry him?

Moot point, now, since his options were firmly down to Ottokar or running away, which meant his options were run away now or run away later. Now would be the smart thing, but he was far too invested in the tale of the prince and the gardener to abandon it.

So he would go see the hydrangea he'd told Léonce he loved, then more of the gardens Léonce had told him about, and once the morning court began, he would finally present himself properly, meet the other player in this secret little romance he was spying on. Perhaps contrive a plot to give their mutual pining a happy end.

There was certainly something to be said for strolling a beautiful palace redolent with the scent of roses. He liked even better the way people seemed so relaxed, instead of moving quietly and stiffly through the halls, afraid of doing anything that might displease the royal family or any of their cronies.

Amador really did not miss home. He would do anything, short of marrying Ottokar, to never see home again.

Hopefully there was a merchant out there who would be utterly enchanted by his ability to balance a ledger and his extensive knowledge of tax laws.

His thoughts slid away as he turned down a hallway and spied the archway that Léonce had talked about avidly: trees that had been carefully twined and twisted together as they grew, shaped to form a natural archway before growing up and out again, making an entrance even grander than the one fronting the palace.

Stepping through it, he looked over what Léonce had called the Dancing Garden, named for the fountains that served as centerpieces: a fountain of young men dancing, a fountain depicting young women dancing, and a third that was children of all shapes and sizes. With the triangle of fountains as a focal point, the garden spilled out to the walls that encircled it, and even up them in beautiful jewel-toned ivies and flowers.

As Amador had assured Léonce was the case sight unseen, the hydrangea around the fountain of dancing women were indeed lovely, bursts of soft pastels that added a whimsical flair to everything. The hotly contested maples were nowhere to be seen, so Léonce must have won his fight. Around the remaining fountains was only earth, so either more hydrangea were going in soon, or the matter had yet to be settled.

He'd never been involved in garden drama before; what charming fun this was proving to be. Amador laughed softly as he thought about how charming the poor gardeners did not find the drama.

Making a note to find Léonce later in the day and tell him again just how beautiful the hydrangea were, he continued on, leaving the Dancing Garden behind and going left through a brick archway into what Léonce had called the Fish Garden.

As promised, it did indeed contain a great many fish, scattered across multiple ponds. He could also hear frogs ribbiting away, and insects buzzing and humming. The ponds also had floating plants that he'd never seen before, not outside books and paintings, anyway. He lingered to admire the fish in each pond, then moved on again, eager to get to what Léonce had called the Rainbow Garden.

Amador laughed in delight as he stepped through yet another archway and came upon it. The Rainbow Garden very much lived up to its name, a splendid display of roses in every imaginable color, arranged in loose circular fashion in the very order of a rainbow. He hoped whoever had designed this had been properly rewarded for it. Léonce, maybe? But he'd said he was a lower ranking gardener, not a master or head gardener, who did the designing. Still, it really had seemed…

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