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WITH both our parents’ permission, Elizabeth and I began having dates in the palace every weekend. We followed a consistent pattern: first, a tour around the gardens, then a stop by the gazebo beside the lake for some sweets until sunset came and it was time for her to return home. Watching the slow change in the garden’s landscape with the passing of the seasons—and a dedicated team of gardeners—was a simple way to spend the time, but we thoroughly enjoyed our idle chatter. Just breathing the same air as her was inexplicably relaxing.
As we walked, I recalled one of the gardeners’ recommendations: that the maple had begun to take on its autumnal palette. I directed Elizabeth to a small path through the maples as we talked. I held out my hand to her, and she readily took it. Normally, I would be expected to escort her properly, but I was content as we were.
Elizabeth averted her gaze from me as we walked, and I pretended not to notice. If I acted bashful, her own embarrassment would only worsen.
Wait, what if she’s hiding her disgust from me? She could easily hate this, and she’s only putting on a brave front. That would be very much like her.
I recalled Raphael’s words about how even a kiss between an engaged couple was borderline taboo and glanced over to see what I could glean from her expression. Her eyes were downcast, and she seemed to be staring at her hand in mine. As I watched, her lips parted into a bashful smile.
Good HEAVENS!!
I hurriedly faced forward, desperately willing my legs to stay firm beneath me. If I acted strangely, she would release my hand.
We walked in silence—but in that silence lay genuine bliss. We matched our speed, our pace, and our very breaths with one another, taking in the sights and sounds of the garden as one. Our feelings for each other were made clear by our hands alone.
I know I’ve thought this a hundred times before, but I’m so glad I told her how I feel.
We took our time reaching the gazebo. No maids were there, just as I’d instructed, and Harold had disappeared somewhere along the way. The only indication I’d had of his presence was a feeling of being watched as my knees trembled—he was no doubt irked by my helplessness. What a kind, caring manservant.
I sat beside her at the table instead of across from her, as I usually did. I had bench seating prepared for that purpose.
Elizabeth’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fruit on the table. It was arranged in a bowl in the center, neatly accented with flowers.
“Wow!” she breathed as she took a fruit. “It’s like a big, round ruby!”
“Go on, take a bite.”
She did exactly that, leaving a neat bitemark in it as she eagerly chewed. Something about her attitude reminded me of a squirrel.
She’s so adorable!
As my heart melted, she swallowed and let out a sigh of contentment.
“It’s not too sweet, and the flesh is so tender. It’s simply delicious!”
“They’re a special variety I ordered from the south,” I replied. “They’re marvelous in desserts, of course, but I wanted you to try them in their purest form.”
She nodded. “Such perfect timing, too—all the talk of strawberries left me craving them ever so badly.” As soon as she realized the potential implications of what she said, she blushed and averted her gaze.
The fruits I had prepared for her were strawberries. This particular strain—a new crop from the south—was so round they were nearly spherical, as well as being a beautiful shade of crimson. They had just enough acidity to accent their sweetness to a T.
Elizabeth glanced up at me as I took an ample bite of one, feigning perfect innocence. It was all I could do to keep my racing heart in check. She reached for another fruit, but something made her stop.
“Oh!”
Finally, she spotted the purple glass rabbit—the one she had bought me—hidden within the bowl. I had enlisted its services in my scheme.
“I have mine with me as well,” she said as she reached into a small pouch. Sure enough, it was her matching figurine, with glass the same shade as my eyes. She placed it on the table, then plucked mine from the fruit bowl to join its mate. “Sorry, little ones. You haven’t seen each other in some time, have you?” She giggled. “Aren’t they sweet together, Prince Vincent?”
She turned to look at me, and our eyes met. In an instant, I lost myself in those limpid pools of amethyst. My face was uncompromisingly stiff, but I couldn’t relax.
“Elizabeth…no, Liza.”
“Yes, Prince Vince?”
I drew closer to her, just like the rabbits. I reverently fingered a lock of her silky golden hair as my eyes were drawn to her soft pink lips.
“I love you, Liza.”
“Y-Your Royal Highness,” she muttered restlessly.
Evidently, my intent had gotten across to her. Her eyes pleaded with me as her cheeks flushed strawberry pink with warmth.
So she isn’t opposed to the idea, then…right? I’m not misunderstanding her, am I?
I threaded my arm behind her along the back of the bench to gauge her reaction, pulling myself slightly closer to her. She didn’t break eye contact with me, much less attempt to put distance between us.
Can I take this as a yes? I can kiss her now, can’t I? Oh, why am I getting cold feet now, of all times?!
I could’ve slugged myself in the gut. Fortunately, the mental image alone was sobering enough. I smiled with all the fake ease in the world as I pulled her shoulders closer to me. A sweet aroma tickled my nostrils, coming not from the strawberries but from her hair. It was the unmistakable scent of myrrh and roses.
“Liza,” I whispered, losing myself ever deeper in her eyes. Slowly, my face drew closer to hers.
Wait. Something’s off.
She was looking back into my eyes, and I could feel the love she held for me within them. Elizabeth was clearly waiting for me to kiss her.
But I can’t look her in the eyes as I kiss her, can I? Wouldn’t our noses bump into each other?
I suddenly realized that I was woefully unprepared and underinformed in regard to the crucial act itself. My shock at hearing of Harold’s own experience must have scrambled my brain.
It’s over. I’m hopeless. I can’t.
I softly closed my eyes before avoiding her mouth entirely, instead planting my lips softly on her cheek. She was startlingly warm to the touch. I lingered for only a moment before pulling away and opening my eyes.
Elizabeth didn’t move a muscle. Then she slowly brought her hand to her cheek, bashfully. She looked back at me.
“The rumors were right,” she whispered with a short, sweet sigh. “One’s first kiss does taste like strawberries.”
That wasn’t what the rumors had been referring to, but even though I was too much of a coward to follow through properly, she was a believer. Her sweetness had turned my failure into a success.
What now, though? It took me nine years to tell her I love her. How long am I supposed to wait until I can kiss her?
At that moment, the sun seemed to go dark. Elizabeth had stood up, leaning over me and casting my face in shadow. Her hand alighted on my shoulder like a dove, and as she bent over, the pleats of her skirt grazed my legs. Before I could process what was happening, her face filled my field of vision entirely. The last thing I remembered was how long her eyelashes were as she tenderly closed her eyes.
Before I could process what was happening, something as soft as cotton candy brushed against my cheek, but left before I could truly appreciate it.
What…just happened?
She reopened her eyes, and our gazes met. Instantly, she blushed a few shades redder and buried her face in her hands.
“I-I’m so sorry! I…I’ve never done anything like this before! I could never dream of doing it as elegantly as you!”
I had to say something, but words had left me. I couldn’t thank her—that was too direct, let alone the almost mercenary lewdness it implied. The silence was so awkward, I couldn’t believe I was savoring it mere moments before. It was sweet, but a bit too sour to bear.
“I’ll see you later!” she finally exclaimed before bolting from the gazebo and running down the cobbled garden path as quickly as her legs would take her.
I extended my hand to stop her, but it was too late. I hadn’t the faintest idea what to say, even if she did stop.
“Harold,” I finally said.
In seconds, he was at my side once more. “You called?”
“I’m sorry, but could you see Elizabeth to the gate? Oh, and take her rabbit to her.”
After he accepted the figurine, he shot me an inquisitive look. “May I ask why you don’t wish to accompany her yourself?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll write her a letter later. I, well…”
I attempted to push off of the bench, but I was still too weak-kneed to stand.
Harold finally understood the situation, his gaze turning into a petrifying glare.
“I-I can’t stand,” I explained pitifully.
“Very well. I suppose I have my orders, then.”
While I waited for him to return, I gazed up at the sky and took in the wonderful scent of the strawberries.
I wonder if every day will be this wonderful once we’re married.
We were finally making progress, but a slight breeze had bowled me over completely.
My heart won’t last at this rate.
If nothing else, though, Elizabeth’s manners were impeccable. She always returned her hellos and goodbyes in kind, responded to gifts with gifts of her own, and responded to “I love you” with her own shows of love. I should’ve known that she would respond to a kiss in kind, but it took a terrific jolt to realize that. I could only imagine what might happen between us next.
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Volume 2, Fin