If Rosette were the sort of girl who buckled under pressure, she’d never have been chosen to be queen in the first place. Despite her soft exterior, the princess was still the same tomboy she’d been labeled in her childhood. She’d learned to don a mask, but she wasn’t the sort of milquetoast who’d run crying if somebody picked a fight with her.
“Oh my… I wager that upset the senders.”
“So it seems. But if they wish to propose to Prince Claudia, they should do so directly, not through me. It’s certainly a bother.”
“Well, they got what they deserved. They were dreadfully disrespectful to you, Rosette.”
Violette’s cool expression emitted quite an air of dignity. It was the dreadfully delicate smile of a mighty queen sitting on her throne, sneering at all those who knelt before her. Few people knew she could smile like that. Anybody who found out would want to get to know that side of her more intimately, bask in its glory, desire it only for himself.
That’s exactly why Yulan keeps her tucked away so carefully.
“How are things going with Prince Claudia?” Violette asked. “Are you treated well?”
“Yes, things are fine. I can’t speak for him, but I have more freedom than before. I need only accompany him on official business—that’s the bare minimum. And he rearranged my schedule so I could visit you today.”
“I’m very glad to hear that. You never mention anything about your relationship in your letters, Rosette.”
“Neither do you, Vio. You hardly ever mention Lord Yulan.”
Beneath the roof that sheltered them from the glaring sun, the three-tiered cake stand was still full of an assortment of sweet treats, waiting impatiently for the moment those beautiful white hands would carry them to those soft lips. But the two girls longed far more for each other’s conversation than the sweets.
“I’ve been waiting with bated breath all this time, Vio. Tell me about your love life.”
Rosette gently rested her chin on her manicured, interlaced fingers. Her soft eyes were those of a young girl, brimming with mirth and curiosity. She was adorable—incredibly adorable. On the receiving end of such a gaze, however, Violette felt nothing but constrictive discomfort. During their friendship, Violette had learned that Rosette’s sweet smile was deceptive—it could trap you before you realized it.
“There’s…nothing special to say.”
Rosette giggled. “You’re blushing.”
“Rosette!”
Violette, her cheeks lustrously rosy, reached for her teacup to distract herself. It would be obvious to anyone that her cheeks weren’t pink from rouge. Rosette smiled knowingly at her; Violette responded with a pouting glare. That death glare, which might fill anyone else with panic, was merely an adorably obnoxious grimace to Rosette. Just as Violette had come to know the princess’s idiosyncrasies, she had learned quite a bit about Violette during their friendship.
Violette sighed through gritted teeth. “Well, I’ve been looking forward to hearing about you and the prince too.”
“There’s more than enough gossip about us to sate your curiosity.”
“I’m not in the habit of taking idle gossip at face value—especially if it’s about my friend.”
Every snippet of information about the future queen, from what time she woke to what time she took her meals, spread through the entire kingdom. Rosette gave out some of that information voluntarily. Sadly, most of what reached the public’s ears was either false or a bent truth. And while many newspapers’ lies could be exposed with a little pressure, debunking all the falsehoods would take far too much time and money. After all, they only existed in ink and paper. They’d be burned with the trash once the people lost interest. As such, the crown turned a blind eye.
“Thanks to Lord Yulan’s efforts, though, gossip has decreased quite a bit as of late.”
“Still, I’m sure that hasn’t been enough to stop it entirely. Royal gossip has always ebbed and flowed like the tide.”
“Indeed it has. It’s the same in Lithos; I’m quite used to it, really.”
“It’s a horrible thing to need to get used to. But as long as nobody gets hurt, I suppose that’s just a necessary evil. You seldom have to speak face-to-face with rumormongers.”
“Well, that’s where Duralia’s large size is an advantage. Lithos is rather small, so it’s easy to hear things directly from our subjects.”
“There are advantages and disadvantages to everything, I suppose. When there’s a greater distance between yourself and your subjects, responding to a problem takes much longer.”
“Prince Claudia is trying to determine what distance is suitable. He quarreled with Lord Yulan over that the other day.”
“Really?”
“Well, it wasn’t so much a quarrel as a talking down… Those two are polar opposites, as you know. Thankfully, Lord Mila can step in to balance them out.”
Violette understood immediately what Rosette meant. Yulan’s relationship with Claudia was unique; on top of that, their personalities were at odds. Yet, since they complemented each other’s deficiencies, they made a good professional team. When Violette pointed this out to Yulan, he’d only responded with a disgruntled frown. But he didn’t deny that she was right.
“I’m trying to figure out how I should navigate all this too. Still, I’m managing,” Rosette said. “It helps that Prince Claudia is much more flexible than I thought. If anything, I’m the stubborn one.”
“You’re tough as nails, Rosette.”
“Why, thank you for the lovely words.”
The thank-you from Rosette—a girl who’d left her own kingdom for marriage—relieved the unconscious tension from Violette’s shoulders as she sighed delicately. Violette thought of Duralia as her homeland. To Rosette, however, it was a foreign land that she merely happened to have lived in for the past few years. Violette was worried that Rosette struggled more with discrimination and culture shock than her letters let on.
“And I still have time now and then for a fun chat with my friend,” Rosette added.
“I’m glad to hear it. Would you like another cup of tea?”
“I’d love that! It’s delicious. Where did you get these leaves?”
“I’m not sure… Our chef imports groceries from all over the world.”