Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Four

A swift, heavy pressure swept over the table.

It started with Prince Illian who froze like a rabbit spotting a predator, and then Queen Roslindis who looked as if a chunk of ice had just slipped down the back of her dress. Cressida felt rather than saw Prince Ferox stiffen: the tablecloth puckered from the way his left hand tensed against the surface of the table. And finally, the king's Adam's apple bobbed as he wrapped his fingers around the thick stem of his goblet, holding it in a vice grip.

As if he didn't notice – or rather didn't care – Prince Callidus pulled out the chair directly at Cressida's left-hand side and took a seat beside her. She chanced a glance at him to find him already looking at her.

"You look beautiful this evening, Your Highness." He murmured in his viola-like voice. "Like the marigolds in the courtyard.

An abrupt bark of a laugh escaped before she could suppress it, her mind still dwelling on Cilla's previous remark suggesting that she should be planted in a garden. Callidus responded with a surprised smile, clearly taken aback but pleased by her laughter.

As an uncomfortable silence settled, Cressida murmured her thanks. Uncertain of what to say next, and with no one else breaking the silence, she asked tentatively, "Is... that where you've been?"

Callidus simply replied, "Yes," followed by a pause. "I lost track of time," he added.

"I see," Cressida said, although she didn't.

A hesitant servant placed a salad plate in front of the prince, flinching as he did so. The plate trembled on the table for just a moment, before Callidus reached out to touch it with his hand, stilling it in an instant. Callidus motioned to the cupbearer, who timidly approached to pour him a goblet of mead.

"Have you been enjoying dinner?" Callidus asked Cressida in a low voice, as if they were the sole occupants of the table.

"It has been an enriching experience." She answered in a half truth.

Cressida watched as the queen shared a look with the king, and his jaw tensed.

"Good of you to join us... son." The king said, in a voice much too loud. "We were all wondering where you were."

Cressida momentarily wondered at the lack of a place at the table for Callidus. The only reason he had a seat at all was because of Quail's absence. She also noted that there had been no herald proclaiming his presence.

"Were you?" Callidus asked, idly wrapping his fingers around the stem of his goblet.

No one said anything.

The queen shot her husband another look.

"Yes, we were." He said, confirming Callidus's question far later than socially acceptable. "Although we understand that you are often too occupied with other matters to come to dinner. We thought this evening would be...similar."

"I made time." Callidus said simply.

Cressida gave Callidus a curious sideways glance, but he met her eyes immediately.

"Ah," she made a surprised sound, and he tilted his head. "What, ah, what have you been busy with?" she asked, grasping for a topic of conversation.

Callidus took a moment to ponder the question before responding, "I have been gardening."

Her eyebrow quirked, caught off guard by his unexpected answer. "You garden?" she asked, genuinely intrigued. Prince Ferox, witnessing the exchange, paused midway with his goblet, his gaze fixed on Callidus, clearly bewildered by this revelation.