Beatrice took her breakfast on the balcony.
The skies were clear, the wind mild, and for once the palace was quiet in a way that felt earned. The linens on her table fluttered gently, and her tea stayed warm longer than expected. She ate slowly, letting herself enjoy it. A rare moment untouched by strategy or scrutiny.
A knock came at the chamber doors. Lily peeked in, grinning widely. "Good morning, my lady!"
"You look suspiciously excited," Beatrice said.
"He sent flowers."
Beatrice blinked. "He who?"
Lily stepped inside holding a modest but elegant bouquet. Dark violet peonies, ink-tipped lilies, and a single sprig of sweetbriar. All tied with a silver ribbon.
"The prince," Lily confirmed. "The steward said he picked them himself."
Beatrice tried not to smile.
And failed.
"Would you like them here or on your desk?"
"Desk," she said, brushing her fingers over the sweetbriar. "Somewhere I can pretend they don't mean anything."
