Princess of Camelot

7. "Love Will Come Your Way Very, Very Soon."

It had been almost two months being Piper's knight, and ever since that atrocious bouquet of flowers arrived at her doorstep, the prince only bombarded her with more gifts.

For the past two weeks, the dashing cat had sent her a necklace and earring set with real diamonds and emeralds, two scarfs made with real rabbit fur, luxurious perfume from Paris...and last, but not least, a poetic letter expressing how she should, essentially, toss her veil away and allow him and her kingdom to bask in the beauty of her face.

Typical.

The gifts began to overcrowd the desks and counters in her room, and Piper strangely paid no attention to them.

"Are these jewels not to your liking?" Lancelot admired the necklace, allowing it to dangle in between his fingers. Piper, sat by the windowsill, signed with little attention. "I prefer pearls."

He scoffed, "A little bit of shine from some diamonds would do no harm." He plopped the necklace back in its plush, satin box. She glanced at him, bringing her knees to her chest. "What do you think he'll send me next?"

Lancelot let out a dry laugh, smirking widely that it exposed his sharp fang. "Perhaps a large feather to stick in your quills, like those other young ladies wear."

Piper choked on a laugh, covering her lips with her hand as she tittered silently. "What? Was that a laugh?" He beamed internally, a feeling of pride blossoming inside of him. Who else but him could make the princess laugh? "Don't tease me." She quickly buried her face into her knees.

Lancelot rolled his eyes playfully and walked to her, leaning down. "Tell me..." She slowly rose her head, eyes wide and shaky. Even her ears trembled.

"If you had to give Prince Stewart a suggestion of what to give you, what would that be? Since he does spoil you ever so much..." She looked down, taking a hard minute to think. "Space."

His ears flicked, "Huh?"

She exhaled longly, rubbing her arms. "These gifts, the letters, the attention...it is all...a lot..."

"Overwhelming." He nodded with understatement.

"But...he is nice. I like him, sort of..."

Strangely, a lump formed in his throat. "Like him?"

She blinked with confusion.

"Uhh...Let me rephrase..." He could feel his cheeks heat up rather quickly. "Are you...developing feelings for him?"

"Should I be?"

"I...well..." The lump only increased, nearly suffocating him. "I believe...that..."

His mind went blank as he stared into her dark eyes. She awaited an answer so patiently, yet there was an eagerness in her gaze. They went back and forth on his topic of the prince, over and over again, yet no answer seemed to fulfill her.

"...I don't think I'm the one you should ask." He stood up, watching her eyes soften with disappointment. "I know very little about a royals duty, so...I suppose...indulging in your father would be for the best."

She let out a breath of dismay, her ears drooping down. Lancelot sighed with defeat, "I'm sorry, but I don't think my answers are good enough to guide you. I know it is my duty to help guide you...but...I was taught to be a knight, not a lord-in-waiting."

Although Lancelot was gentle and sincere, these words crushed her. She didn't realize the impact this job took on him. A wave of guilt crashed over her, making her feel like her whole body was shivering.