His Princess did not like hosting tea parties. The Knight could count in his hand the tea parties he knew she was excited to attend. He could not stand too near, but he would keep his eyes on her. He had a feeling his Princess’s reputation for being aloof and distant came from these parties. She could not pretend to like someone when she didn’t. She was icily polite and rarely smiled on these occasions. Still, even now as he watched her from afar, he was utterly captivated by her. He knew she wore something pretty, but honestly to him a dress was just a dress. It was the flowers in her hair that caught his eye more, because they drew attention to her rosy cheeks and shining eyes. Even with her mannerisms affected with courtly dignity, he could read the slight motions that were all her own.

Something was wrong, however. He could sense she was feeling a mixture of unpleasant emotions. It was always hard to explain an empathic impression: but he felt the stab of anger, the burn of jealousy, and something cold, akin to guilt or worry. What on earth were these women saying to her that made her feel this way? She had not offered more than a tired smile once, but these women fanned and fawned. Though he could not sense the other women's emotions as clearly, their envy of his Princess was so strong, he could mistake it for nothing else.

There were many reasons he could guess as to why they felt this way. The most obvious was just how absolutely and stunningly beautiful she was. There was more to her, didn’t they know that she literally saved a region with her foresight, planning, and power to make plants grow? Hadn’t it been formally revealed that she made use of her power to save the land from a year’s long drought? What good came of making an enemy of the Princess, who was selflessly kind and could hold the fate of their land in the literal palm of her hand? What would make them risk it?

The party ended and the ladies started to walk away. They passed him and he smiled and bowed.

“Well met, my ladies,” he said. They all giggled and he sensed a wave of infatuation, not anything he hadn’t dealt with before.

“Hello, Sir Knight,” they said. They giggled as they walked off. There was something smug about their flirtations that he didn’t like. He approached his Princess as she poured herself a cup of tea and the servants cleaned around her. Her eyes focused on the tea in the cup, her brows creased, her frown was deep, she didn’t even hear him approach. All those aspects of her body language alone would be signs of distress, but he could get the strong impression of guilt and sorrow from her that pressed on his chest. He couldn’t offer her any physical comfort at that moment, not with so many eyes on them.

“May I join you, your Highness?” he asked. She jumped and looked up at him. She seemed almost fearful. She let out a breath and managed a bit of a smile.

“Certainly,” she said. She poured him a cup. He had learned how to behave at a tea party, he effortlessly fell into the role of a guest. She didn’t look up, she raised her cup to her lips, but did not drink.

“What happened?” he asked. She looked up at him with such sorrow it twisted his heart.

“Nothing new,” she said.

“They’re jealous of you,” he said. “You know I of all people can tell, I’m not just making that up. Whether or not you think you’re great or amazing, you’re a threat to them. They’re looking for anything to rattle you.”

“I guess I’m rattled. I’m just weak,” she said.

“No you’re not. You just need a moment to calm down,” he said.

She sighed. “They are right though. I’m so terrible. I’ve been so horrible and selfish.”

He felt his temper skyrocket. Who told this woman, who saved a town and drained all her energy despite her fear of dying like her mother, that she was selfish? How? Why? He needed names and the exact wording.

“I need to go to the library,” she said.

“Do you wish to be escorted or to sneak in?” he asked. He wanted to help her sneak into the library. Though it was not proper protocol, he liked that she enjoyed hiding behind him. He could feel the flutters of comfort from her when she was so near and he wanted to provide that for her. She shook her head.

“Just escort me,” she said. He was a little disappointed, but she took his arm and that was a consolation. Her expression was absent, but he sensed that she felt a little soothed by his presence. She claimed her corner of the library. She’d been writing an awful lot lately. He knew she wrote for fun, but it seemed she was doing it more than ever lately.

She fell almost listlessly into her chair and grabbed her paper and pen. The effect of her starting her writing was similar to her activating her mana. She seemed to be in a bit of a trance, the words flowed from her pen. He wished he knew what she wrote about, to be allowed into her world. He sensed that whatever she was writing was special to her, something she wanted to protect. He didn't dare to look at anything she wrote when she left her work unattended. He knew she used to write stories for her little cousin. Maybe she was writing a new one for him, he was due back from the Mage Academy.

It was utterly captivating to see her so hard at work on something she loved. He could afford to stare at her dreamily for once, not many in the library paid attention to them. The staff loved the Princess so much, she apparently had been a fixture since she was very small. They allowed her the space and privacy she needed and allowed her small liberties. The head librarian arrived with a tray with snacks.

"For our lady," she said. The Princess glanced over and smiled, her eyes still lost in a dream.

"Thank you," she said.

"Anything for you, your Highness," the librarian said and retreated. The Knight served her tea the way she liked it: way sweeter and creamier than he preferred, but the joy and warmth that she'd give off when she sipped it was always worth it to see. Today her joy was quite subdued, he couldn't feel it as strongly, but a smile lingered on her lips. He could slowly feel the tension and unease dissipate from her as she wrote. 

He felt so happy watching her be comfortable like this and he took note of her every action. The way her eyes focused on her writing, the way she stuck out her tongue and bit her lip. He noticed her fingers and lips were a little blue. He went to get a shawl for her. It wasn't particularly cold, but she was prone to responding to even the slightest chill and the place wasn't very well heated. He didn’t like the idea of her being cold. He’d grown up with that experience, his family was poor and he often made sure his younger siblings were warm, but then he’d be freezing. He didn’t want her to even know what that was like. She leaned into his touch as he wrapped it around her shoulders. She stopped writing and looked at him.

"Thank you," she said. Her gratitude was always so intoxicating, it was always colored with her deep love for him, she was appreciative over the smallest things. He leaned over and whispered to her.

"Are you still a little cold?" he whispered.

"A little," she said softly.

"Can I help you warm up a bit?"

She looked up at him with those adorable eyes and nodded. He gently wrapped his arms around her and he felt her return the hug, her small hands resting on his back. He was going to die, she was so absolutely intoxicating. The feelings that radiated off of her were so...delicious was the only way he could describe it, he almost craved these brief moments. More than the physical warmth, he felt such a wave of contentment from her that mirrored his own and only deepened his satisfaction in being near her. He wished they could be like this longer, that they didn't have to sneak around. He released her.

"Are you warm now?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed. "I'll let you know if I get cold again."

"Please do," he said. He resumed his position sitting near her. She looked up from her writing briefly, gazed at him and then let out a long sigh. He could feel her contentment dulling just a bit. He narrowed his eyes in thought. What had these women said to her that made her feel so shaken? He had to find out.