Prince Grant arrived a day ahead of schedule at Queen Sarah's castle. Maverick stops the carriage behind the Queen's, the horses are missing, possibly in the stable being groomed. Maverick jumps down from his perch on the carriage, rushing to open the Prince's door for him. Grant slips on the pearly white gloves and steps down from inside the carriage, walking through the grass. He sees the apple orchard and marvels at the young woman standing on a ladder, reaching out to pick an apple from a higher branch. He walks towards her, and as he gets closer, he notices the woman's dark brown hair, pulled into a messy bun, held together by twine.
The woman begins to stumble on her rather high perch. Her arms whirl as she tries to catch her balance and she falls backwards. Grant rushes forward, catching her in his arms. Her loose brown curls hide her face and she moves them with a sweep of her hand. "Are you alright, your Majesty?" he asks as he sets her on her feet. The woman is stunned at the man standing before her. His chisled jaw, high cheekbones, and deep green eyes hold her attention.
"Your Majesty?" she asks softly. Grant kneels down before her and she realizes that he thinks that she is the Queen. "Oh no, no, no! Please stand up!" Grant looks up confused.
"I am confused. Aren't you Queen Sarah of Elmore?" She shakes her head.
"No, I am a castle servant," she replies. Grant hurriedly gets back on his feet. He brushes himself down, trying to knock the grass from his trousers.
"My apologies. I thought that you were-"
"Queen Sarah...ironically enough, her and I don't look much alike." Grant smiles lightly.
"Well, I've never had the pleasure of meeting her...and when I notice a lady picking apples...I couldn't help but assume." The lady chuckles, her hand covering her mouth.
"I'll try to take that as a compliment. You must be Prince Grant. The Queen wasn't expecting you until tomorrow evening." Grant nods his head, unsure of how to respond.
"My father told me that a good man wants to impress his bride." She nods her head and turned around, putting her apples back into her basket. She rubs a red apple against her skirt. "Where do I go to see Queen Sarah?" She turns back to look at him.
"The throne room. I'd be more than happy to escort you." Grant smiles and reaches down, helping her collect the apples from the ground. He smudges dirt on the fingertips of his gloves. "Your Grace, please, let me do this. It'll only take a minute." Grant smiles and stands back up, placing two apples into the basket. He allows the lady to fill the basket and she leads him into the castle, their steps echoing through the corridors.
"Thank you for escorting me," he says. She looks over her shoulder at him, smiling.
"It's my pleasure, Prince Grant. Queen Sarah has been trying to make everything perfect for your arrival." Grant smiles, clenching his hands behind his back.
"Well, I'd say my visit has already gotten off to a great start." He notices the woman's cheek as they begin to flush a bright red. He notices that she is struggling with the basket of apples. "Allow me to carry that for you." The woman steps away, cautiously.
"It's my job to carry this. My apologies, Prince Grant, but the Queen would be furious if she caught you carrying it." He nods his head and steps back. They continue up the stairs silently.
"So, I know the Queen's name, but I don't know yours." The lady smiles and gazes into Grant's eyes. He marvels at how blue they are.
"My name is Lucinda...but you may call me Lucy." He smiles warmly at her.
"That's a beautiful name." Lucy blushes again.
"Thank you," she mutters. They come to stand before two tall oak doors. "Here we are." She turns to look at him and she tightens her grip on the basket. He grinned at her and she starts to walk away. Grant spins around, not really wanting her to leave.
"It was nice meeting you!" he calls after her. Lucy turns her head and smiles.
"You too, Your Grace." She walks back down the stairs and towards the sound of banging pans. The kitchen perhaps. Grant turns back to the doors and shakes his head as he raps his knuckles against the door. Another servant, an elderly man, opens the door for him and he walks inside. He spots the Queen, sitting in her throne. She wears a rather tight silver dress, and her blonde hair is pinnned up high, causing the crown to tip haphazardly to one side. She smiles as she rises from her throne, and clasps her hands in front of her.
"Prince Grant, I was not expecting you until tomorrow," she says. Grant cannot tell whether she is trying to be distant or just plain cold. He kneels down before her, bowing his head.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I thought that I should be rather early for our meeting."
"Why be so early when you're going to be spending so much time here? I thought you might've wanted to enjoy the countryside." He raises his head and stands tall, his chest out.
"Was not my intention to catch you off guard, Your Majesty." Queen Sarah chuckles.
"Please, call me Sarah. We're going to be getting married soon...you should get used to calling me by my name, not my title." Grant nods his head and holds his hand out to the Queen. She slips her pale white palm into his and Grant plants a tender kiss on her knuckles.
"As you wish, Sarah." The name does not feel right on his tongue, and the conversation between them is starting to grow boring, unlike Lucy, who seemed to keep his attention with every word that she didn't say. She steps back, and sits back into the throne slowly.
"Allow one of my servants to show you to your rooms. We'll be sleeping apart until the evening of our wedding night," she says firmly. With a snap of her fingers, a servant is present and ready to lead Prince Grant up to his rooms. He looks around attentively at the paintings that adorn the walls. The elderly man stops at a dark colored door.
"Your chambers, Sir," he says and stalks off. Grant rolls back his shoulders and opens the door. He sees Lucy setting his things down by the mirror by the bed. She smiles at him warmly and starts to walk out the door. She curtsies, bowing her head.
"Your Majesty," she says softly as she walks out of the room. Grant shuts the door behind him and sits down on his bed, starting to grow rather sleepy. Maverick had ridden all night the night before to make sure that they got here before sundown, with Prince Grant's word that he would stay up with him the entire time. Grant flops back onto the bed, his head resting against the goose feather pillows. He begins to doze, not sure how much longer he can stay awake before he passes out.
