National institutions were positioned densely near the palace. The library, parliament, and museums were all within walking distance, as was the Royal Art Academy, which handled all sorts of cultural projects—including the administration and appraisal of the items in art galleries and museums. The final examinations of the counterfeit paintings had been conducted at the academy and, as the employees of the academy were in the know, they had insisted that Fiona stop by after the commendation ceremony.
“Will you be going with her, Gil?”
“Yeah. The academy really went above and beyond for my family with the appraisals. Now that everything’s settled, I want to thank them in person.”
Painting appraisals ordinarily required an appointment, one that was often scheduled several days in advance, but the academy’s response to Gordon’s forgeries had been prompt. Given the prestigious nature of the suspicious paintings and the name value of the Bancroft and Heyward houses, the academy’s staff surely worked long and hard on the problem.
“Yeah, you would want to thank them personally,” Richard said. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, Gil. I’d love to come along, but we wouldn’t want to overwhelm them with too many guests, would we?”
“I don’t think they’d mind,” Giles said.
“Hey, take the hint. Oh, I’m this way. See you later!” With a light wave goodbye, Richard turned on his heel and went down a corridor that took him in a different direction.
“Why is he always like that?” Giles grumbled.
Fiona giggled. “How very true to form.”
The two of them resumed walking but were soon stopped by a voice behind them calling for Giles. They turned around to see a man running toward them, wearing a palace staff uniform and holding a document.
“Lord Lowell, so sorry to stop you,” he said, “but the party from yesterday’s dealings sent this—”
Sensing this was work-related, Fiona began to sidle away, and Giles interrupted the man to say, “Fiona, excuse me for a minute.”
“Of course. I’ll just go admire the flowers.” There was a beautiful garden beyond the corridor. It was mostly used to receive guests, so nobody was there at the moment, making it an ideal spot for a stroll.
Giles paused briefly, then said, “Promise you won’t leave my sight?”
“I won’t,” Fiona assured him, though there were guards present and no trees tall enough to obscure his view of her. Nothing should ever happen to Fiona on the palace grounds anyway, but even now, with Gordon under lock and guard, Giles maintained a healthy concern for Fiona’s safety. Finding his attentiveness both charming and silly, she left the corridor.
Once in the garden, she opened her parasol and walked slowly through the quaint paths, admiring the blooming flowers as she went. After a while, she turned around to see that Giles and the palace official were deep in what appeared to be a serious conversation. Giles looked up and briefly met her gaze, and she twirled her parasol a little at him.
The Bancroft family always handled diplomatic relations. Much of their work was top secret, and it all went over Fiona’s head. From the familiar way the official had called out to Giles, however, it was clear that the two of them were close. That struck her as funny; at the academy, she’d heard that most officials weren’t all that familiar with higher-ranking nobles.
Fiona occasionally heard little gripes from an investigator of her acquaintance. Noblemen filled roles they’d inherited from their fathers, barring some significant problem that necessitated a change to the line of succession. Giles was set to inherit the title of Earl, elevating his rank. As a nobleman, he had to carefully gather and comprehend all the facts with dignity and without complaint. It was clear just how dreadfully busy Giles was, and if the pompous higher-ups complained, politely distancing himself was his only recourse. It was surely much easier to deal with officials who would hear him out.
He’s already busy enough with parliament as it is… This season must have been particularly tough on him, with the uproar caused by Minister Saquille’s plot. Fiona looked up from the flowers blooming by her feet and saw some of the same white flowers she’d seen in the little garden at that party, blooming through a lattice. At least Giles says our little charade is serving him well.
Once the season was over, their relationship would end—and lately, Fiona had come to think it might be best to end their agreement before it came to term. The rumors traveling through the capital had waned, and news of their relationship had spreadfar and wide, which was all either of them had wanted. But still, something felt wrong. Fiona was certain now that it was not how Giles behaved around her, but rather—
“My lady, do you like those flowers?” a voice asked her.
Fiona snapped to her senses. “Huh? Oh, um, yes.”
The owner of the voice was holding clippers, but he was not one of the palace gardeners. Fiona quickly shut her parasol and sunk into a deep curtsy.
It was Grenville, the king’s younger brother.
“Oh, no, you don’t need to curtsy,” he protested.
“Oh, Your Highness, I wouldn’t dare. I could not possibly defile the face of the king’s brother by looking at it…”
Fiona’s mouth struggled to form words, and astonishment flooded her mind and her heart. Wh-what’s going on?! What is the king’s brother doing out here?!
They had never spoken before, naturally, but he was always in attendance at social functions as a member of the royal family, so of course Fiona recognized his face. And with his violet eyes—a trait only the royal line carried—his identity was unmistakable.
We’re in a garden. This is a garden, right?!
The king’s younger brother was known to spend most of his time holed up in a greenhouse, studying and taking care of plants. Even if you came to the palace, he wasn’t somebody you were likely to meet. Was today destined to be Fiona’s special day of royal encounters?
“Sorry I startled you,” he said. “I heard some of the flowering plants here weren’t doing well, so I came to check up on them.”
“I-is that so?”
“I must say, I don’t usually see fine young ladies out here. And the queen isn’t hosting a luncheon today. What else was there today… Oh, I see. You must be the young lady who foiled the forgeries.”
Unlike the garden toward the front of the palace, this one required special permission to enter. The king’s brother had not been present at the royal audience that day, but he was aware that somebody was visiting the palace to receive a commendation.
Under his kind gaze, Fiona curtsied again. “Yes, Your Highness, I am Fiona Clayburn.”
“Uh-huh, I hear you’ve been through the wringer,” Grenville said. “I couldn’t attend the commendation ceremony, so do pardon me for not recognizing you sooner.” Minister Saquille favored Grenville, and though Grenville himself had no aspirations to the throne, the king would have to hold him accountable to some degree for failing to restrain his devotees.
“Oh, you needn’t apologize!”
Though the apology he offered was casual, Fiona found it even more difficult to look him in the eye after that. She would have been lying if she said she never suspected that Grenville’s disinterest in the throne was a facade and that Minister Saquille was carrying out his secret plot to steal it, but now that he stood before her in the flesh, it was clear her suspicions were baseless—Grenville really did have no desire to rule the kingdom. He wore a rough shirt, dirty work trousers, and tall gardening boots. He carried a dirty hoe, and his sun hat might as well have been just another part of his body. Between that and his air of harmony with the plants, there was no way any of this was simply for show.
Fiona, who went on staring stiffly at the ground, sensed Grenville smirk overhead. She heard the snap of clippers and then felt something touch her downturned head, near her ear.
“A gift from me,” Grenville said.
“Thank you very much,” she said slowly.
Just as suddenly as he had appeared, the king’s brother vanished. By the time Fiona looked up, he was out of sight.
“Fiona!” Having finished his conversation with the official, Giles ran over to Fiona in a fluster.
“Lord Giles.”
“I saw the king’s brother with you.”
“Yes, I bumped into him.”
Giles’s questioning gaze reminded Fiona of the strange sensation she’d felt on her head. With gentle fingers, she reached up and found delicate flower petals just above her ear. She carefully pulled the object free and saw that it was a rose with pale yellow petals. Its thorns had been removed, and it gave off a pleasant, myrrh-like aroma.
“It seems he gave me a gift,” Fiona murmured.
“So he did,” Giles said. “That must have surprised you.”
“Yes, very much. Does he often come to this garden?”
“Not to my knowledge. He probably just happened to be here.”
Standing in the spot where the king’s brother had stood, they both stared at the rose in Fiona’s hand. A gust of wind blew past, carrying the flower’s fragrance with it. Then Fiona wrapped the rose in her handkerchief, and they put the palace behind them.