Lavenders Blue ❦

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟChapter Ten; Three Days

Keith is one to be late. Not fashionably late, more like abruptly, and he often does it just to prove how much he truly doesn't care for the event he almost entirely missed. However, today he shows up a only a few minutes late, sitting in the seat across the table from his startled mother. She looks right at him, mouth slightly agape from being downright confused.

His hair is slightly disheveled and he looks beyond giddy. His crown is even sitting upon his head, decidedly by him, for the first time in what must be years.

"Hello, Keith." Queen Krolia says strangely, too dazed by the casual nature of Keith's entrance. Keith is anything but casual. He's an aggressive and self-motivated man who wears fingerless gloves and sports a royal mullet. He isn't the sit-down discussions type at all. Krolia straightens a stack of papers, clearing her throat, doing anything to keep her from her rude staring.

However, her eyes are completely distracted by her son, who wears a grey button up for a top instead of the poppy red coat she had chosen for him today. Does he even own that sort of shirt? His slacks are normal, uniform- but he even looks casual. "Are you feeling alright today?"

"The best I've been in a long time." Keith says, tugging jitterly on the sleeves of the shirt. "What about you?"

She finally peels her eyes away from the warm-cheeked prince, sorting her papers accordingly with a clearing of her throat. "Just fine. I've been thinking about you since this morning when I gave you the spare invitation you requested. You remember our little wager, I'm sure?"

"Of course."

"I'm curious as to how it went, did it go well?"

Keith pauses, not quite sure on how to answer. "His step-mother forbids him from attending, but he's going to come. I bet my inheritance on it." He notices a fruit dish in the center of the table, entirely decorative, but he doesn't recognize it as such. So, he leans over and grabs the plumpest apple of the bowl. He bites into it hungrily, spraying juice about and ignoring it when he talks; "He has to."

"He. . . has to?" Krolia asks, confused. Keith takes another bite of apple, ignorant to the other council members trickling in to begin the meeting for the planning of the ball.

"I'm going to get him here, no matter what. And when he does walk in, the most handsome person to have ever walked these castle halls, he needs to love it here." He confirms, placing the half-core on the table and swallowing a throat-full of apple. "Everything has to be perfect."

The final council member, Thace, shuts the door behind him when he enters. Everyone in the room seems put off by the presence of the Prince, but they don't send out complaints. Despite his lack of experience in such meetings, the queen has hope for her son, she really does. "Before we begin, I would like to welcome my son, Prince Keith of Marmora to the table. He is the main reason for the very inspiration of this gathering, the heart of the ball that he shall host in ten days time. Will he lead our discussion, if he so pleases?"

Keith feels the eyes on him, but he's prepared. He has been for the last two minutes. Without warning, he pulls a piece of folded paper from his front pant pocket, studying it carefully as if to confirm all of the items. Everyone stares as he mouths silent words to himself, eyebrows knitting with focus. Most people have an idea of what they want to propose memorized. The Prince just pulled out a full paper sheet.

"What flowers did we have planned for the arrangements?"

A councilman lowered his spectacles, examining a printed sheet in his wrinkled fingers. "Lilies, your highness. Silky white ones that shall be shipped from Altea, the finest that money can buy."