The Hearts were in awe as they were escorted through the lavish, golden halls of the castle. Blue eyes dazzling in wonder and lingering envy, Emilia held her hands close to her thudding heart.

After heeding what Charles had said, and valuing his opinion, Emilia had decided on the black dress. But before she could make it down the grand staircase, her father refused to take any part of it.

Calling the style gothic and fit for a harlot, Richard promptly ordered Hellen, her mother, to escort her back to her room to change. And thus, the decision of this overly detailed, bulbous blue nightmare was made.

"Good afternoon, my lord and lady," greeted one of the waiting butlers. With a bow of his head and torso, he gestured a white-gloved hand towards the closed doors of the dining hall.

Richard gave a huff of confidence along with a stern nod, while Emilia's hands clutched a bit tighter at the neckline of her dress. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for her entire life.

As the large white doors gradually opened, her father pressed a hand against the small of Emilia's back.

"Up straight now. Do not cast aside your etiquette today," he said under his breath before putting on his best smile and leading them in.

Emilia's eyes fluttered from the sudden wash of golden light pouring from the room. Slowly, almost in a trance, she stepped forward into the ornate room, large enough to hold a ball in her small town.

Her eyes flickered around the décor, from the glossy floor to the massive windows evenly spaced about the far wall, to the thick, gorgeously embroidered ivory curtains that held them. They spanned along the explosive bouquets of flowers placed about the room, then over to the skillfully crafted sculptures of their family members located in the far corners.

"Good afternoon, Emilia."

Eyes still lingering on the dazzling glass of the chandelier, Emilia allowed her head to tilt downwards in time to see a young man approaching her. Short, luxuriously blonde curls, breathtaking green eyes, a square chin, and a smile of pearls. Dazed, her neck craned upwards again as he entered her personal space.

Unable to come up with a timely response, she allowed the back of her hand to be raised to his lips, which drew her eye. Emilia felt her cheeks burn at the contact, her chest heaving and locking into place with a held breath.

"I am so pleased that you could visit me today," came the gentle voice of the prince, which released Emilia's held breath in a swooning sigh. Hurriedly, she curtsied once her hand was freed, her gaze staying with his beneath her long lashes.

But Emilia's half-lidded, love-stricken eyes went fluttering open at the high-pitched sound of a woman's laughter. Both of them turned to view the source, Emilia with a look of astonishment, and the prince with one of disapproval.

Sitting behind the Prince at one of the glossed dining tables, was none other than the Queen herself, and seeming to be thoroughly entertained. A gloved hand over her red-painted lips, the older woman smiled at the new couple.

"Good heavens," she giggled, picking up her large and intricately detailed dress so that she could stand. Making her way over, Emilia's back immediately straightened again, her chin stiffening upon the woman's swift approach. Dropping the hem of her dress once beside her frowning son, she patted his shoulder, eying Emilia considerably. "She's awfully doe-eyed, isn't she? She gazes at you like a child," she teased.

Emilia's cheeks flushed a darker shade of red as she tried to calm herself, embarrassed.

"Yet she appears to have more manners than you, mother," the prince snipped, promptly ending the banter, and just as promptly winning over Emilia. Returning his attention after his mother had looked away in defeat, he smiled, placing a kiss atop her hand before releasing it. "And is even more breathtaking than described."

"Father, he's amazing," Emilia gushed to the Grand-Duke as they awaited the royalty's return to the dining hall after leaving to welcome the arrival of the King.

"It seems he's taken a liking to you. Your mother will be pleased."

"How in the world did this come to be? Me and ... Prince Benjamin?" Emilia gushed, her hands holding the sides of her face as she blushed.

"You may find this hard to believe, but the Queen and I are old acquaintances," Richard bragged with a raised chin. Emilia's eyes widened, her jaw threatening to drop once again.

"No."

"Yes. We were taught to dance by the same instructor. We even danced together, here and there. We weren't terrible, either."

"Mother must have been quite the woman," Emilia beamed. "For you not to pursue the Queen in your youth."

The Grand-Duke laughed, giving a nod. "Quite the woman indeed. But I didn't know her majesty as the Queen when we were children. Hell, I hadn't known myself to be a Duke."

"Even still ... I can only hope I can begin to compare."

"Breath-taking, I believe it was," her father reminded, gently nudging Emilia's side and making her blush a shade darker.

"Father, stop! I'll be as red as the Queen's lips if I think about it any longer," she whined, fanning herself with a giddy laugh.

He chuckled again, nodding. "Perhaps you should cool your face in the washroom," he snickered jokingly.

But as nervous as Emilia was, she shot up in obedience, grasping at the opportunity before it was to vanish.

"Yes. I think I shall," she almost panted, lifting the front of her dress and rushing out of the room, the sound of her clicking heels overpowering her father's deep laughter.

Scrambling through the halls, Emilia followed a passing maid's instructions to find the nearest washroom. But in doing so, she stumbled upon a private conversation between the royals, instead - one mentioning her by name.

"Honestly, Theodore," she went on with a groan. "Isn't she a bit too simple?"

"Maybe so," the king chuckled with a shrug. "But by the way he speaks, he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he's enjoying being fawned over."

"Well certainly. She's pretty enough. She fawns too much, is all," the queen complained.

"Didn't you?" Theodore snickered, but Victoria merely huffed.

"I had seen my way around a handful of ballrooms before taking your hand," she shamelessly bragged. "You may have been the victor, but I certainly knew how to accent my suitors."

"I certainly recall."

"I doubt this girl has the slightest idea of proper courtship, let alone what it takes to guide him. Benjamin is going to grow bored of her within the season. Honestly, Theodore."

Emilia's blood ran cold.

"That's for Benjamin to decide. He might not mind guiding her."

"We don't have time to guide a queen."

"Then why did you agree to this meeting?"

"I didn't think she would be so ... timid. She looked as though she was going to faint when he kissed her hand. She's to accept one from our allies overseas?"

"Perhaps she's just enthralled by him. He is a fine gentleman, after all. A Prince, mind you.

"I hope you're right. I do hate wasting time."

Thanks for reading! If you're looking for the story in full, or interested in what else I've got (mostly spicy political romantasy and one-shots -- but also other stuff??), feel free to check out my site, www.theseekersguildhq.com.