This woman’s mood swings are giving me whiplash. First she’s sweet, then brazen, then cold, and now… well, I’m not quite sure how to characterize her behavior now.

She sits silently on the king’s right, directly across from me, staring at me with an intensity which burns. When our eyes meet, the left corner of her lip slides upwards as if she knows a secret I do not. She lifts her fork to her lips, taking a bite of her steamed carrots unnecessarily slowly without ever breaking eye contact with me.

“It’s so nice to have fresh company for supper!” King Raghnall exclaims excitedly to the mostly barren long table, distracting me from the princess’ odd behavior.

It seems to me that a King should never be lacking in “fresh company”, but I don’t comment on the number of guests dining with us tonight. In keeping with the lack of propriety I’ve experienced in Douburg thus far, supper is a small, private affair. My brother and the princess’ advisor, this Ailin fellow, are the only others present. The servant who came to collect me from my room had explained that an official banquet with the entire royal court and Assembly would be held in my honor tomorrow when I inquired about the matter. The excuse was given that apparently the king wished to bond with his son-in-law privately and allow me time to recover from the long journey without all that ceremony. Although Ballinamore would probably gawk at the blatant oversight in hospitality, I found myself not minding the unceremonious attitude of the eccentric king.

“Do you often eat with so few numbers, Your Majesty?” I inquire.

“I do prefer a more intimate party,” he concedes with a smile. “Saoirse, I am sure, will fill the hall with music and boisterous laughter when she is queen, but I find I enjoy the peace in my old age.”

“You do me a disservice, Father, by suggesting I do not enjoy our little soirees. I am merely of the opinion that dining with the monarch is a high honor which could be used to strengthen our alliances.”

The king snorts at his daughter’s words. “I spend all day ‘strengthening my alliances’. In the evening, all I want is a quiet meal with my family. You and Gilroy are good enough company for me, although I will concede that five seems to be the ideal number for pleasant conversation.”

The oddity of the young man’s presence is not lost on me, but I suppose I should not be surprised at this point to learn the youthful advisor dines with them every night. “I do not see Your Majesty’s advisor, the Baroness, in attendance tonight. Is it customary for the Royal Advisor to dine with the family?”

The king laughs goodnaturedly while shaking his head, “Gilroy and Saoirse are inseparable, so you best get used to it like I have.”

I think I see the man in question grimace slightly at the king’s words, but Saoirse remains indifferent to the king’s shocking words as she answers my question more directly. “The Baroness of Onora has her own family to attend to in the evenings. She prefers not to live within the palace. However, I frequently meet with her for brunch in the mornings. You may join me tomorrow if you wish.”

I am a bit shocked by the princess’ invitation. I have no idea what will be expected of me as her husband. No doubt several public appearances and charity work, but in matters of state, I am at a loss. Even if I had attended lessons as I should have when I was a boy, they would not have prepared me to be King Consort of Douburg. After discovering my mother’s plans to move forward with the marriage treaty, I had tried to study Douburg’s odd structure of government, but I still found it needlessly confusing and complicated, with power split between the monarch and their “Assembly”.

“I should be honored,” I acquiesce.

Her unnatural smile spreads, “Excellent, then perhaps you should also like to attend me during my meeting with the other members of the Branch of Trade afterwards.”

I blink rapidly, trying to process what she is saying. “You are a member of the Assembly?” I can’t help but ask, bewildered.

“Unfortunately, only for another year. I cannot hold office while Queen.”

I don’t have time to process this before the advisor adds, “It is not uncommon for members of the royal family to hold office. After you have settled in, Your Grace, you may petition for a seat if you wish.”

I must admit, this news pleases me, even if it is wholly unexpected. In Crismond, my mother’s role as Queen Consort is limited to party planning and castle management. I worried my fate may be the same, particularly after Saoirse acted so cold to me yesterday. I never dreamed that she would not wish me to be her romantic partner, but still want me to help with affairs of state. “I think I should like that very much,” I say honestly. “I would hate to have no occupation.”

“Excellent, my boy!” The King proclaims. “Tell me, have you considered at all which Branch might interest you?”

“I was unaware I had a choice in the matter.”

“Why of course you do! My eldest was a member of the Branch of Knights, but Saoirse has always had a mind for numbers,” the king beams like the proud father he is. I barely have time to register that I find this information the tiniest bit impressive, before the conversation moves on.

“Speaking of Conan, his steed, Gilly, has been neglected of late,” Saoirse begins, turning to address my brother. “Perhaps the young prince would like to go riding tomorrow?”

My brother’s face brightens immediately, opening his mouth to answer, but I can’t stop myself from blurting out, “The horse’s name is Gilly?”

“A private joke,” the princess snaps back immediately, before she realizes her abrupt tone and softens again. “She often got lost as a foal. My brother thought naming her after Gilroy would help her remember the way home.” I feel like I am missing some key piece of information which might explain this bizarre “joke”, but before I can clarify, she continues, “Father, would you have time tomorrow to ride with Prince Alec?”

If it were possible, the king’s smile broadens even more, “Oh, I think I should be able to squeeze him in! What say you, young prince? Would you keep an old man like me company tomorrow?”

“Y—yes, of course! Your Majesty! I would be honored!” he sputters, finally having a chance to participate in the conversation.

“Alec is an excellent horseman,” I boast, tousling his hair lightly.

“We are well aware,” the advisor, Ailin—or perhaps I should call him Gilroy as everyone else appears to—asserts. “If memory serves me right, he's won Crismond’s jousting tournament for the last three years and the Tri Kingdom Race two years ago.”

“That’s right!” Alec chirps. “I finally beat—“

“Sir Bryne,” they say in unison.

“A worthy opponent, particularly considering the race was on his home turf,” Gilroy complements. “And you beat even Prince Conan’s record of the Regnal track by 23 seconds. Very impressive.”

“You seem to know quite a lot about the competitions. Do you follow sports closely?” He didn’t seem the type, but I ask anyway.

Gilroy opens his mouth to answer, but it is the king who gets there first. “Gilroy knows everything. You’ll get used to it.”

“You flatter me, Your Majesty,” he croons smoothly.

I quirk my eyebrow at the man’s deflection of the compliment. Perhaps he is not as arrogant as I originally thought. “I am sure His Majesty would not have spoken untrue; to know everything must be a very useful skill for a Royal Advisor,” I test.

For the first time since the evening began, the bronze skinned man looks me straight in the eye. I suppress a gasp at the intensity of his gaze, as if he could read me like a book with all my secrets laid bare. At this distance, I notice for the first time the green flecks floating in his golden irises, hinting at his mixed heritage.

“I live to serve Her Highness.” His words are drenched with devotion and meaning I don’t quite understand. “However, perhaps I can be of use to you tomorrow if Her Highness would permit.”

“What is your request?” the princess coaxes.

"I have heard His Grace is fond of reading. Our royal library is unparalleled by any. Perhaps I might give His Grace a tour tomorrow afternoon while you attend to wedding preparations.”

“I suppose I could spare you from helping me pick out flatware and cake flavors,” Princess Saoirse concedes through a sly smile. “Would you enjoy a tour, My Prince?

I get the distinct impression the two already spoke of this plan previously, though what their objective might be in entertaining me, I have no idea. However, the fame of the Royal Douburg Library is near legendary, so I push aside any concerns that they may be manipulating me. “I don’t wish to take up too much of… Gilroy’s,” the name catches in my throat awkwardly, “time. If he would be so kind as to simply direct me to the place, I would be happy to explore alone.”

The princess tsks before scolding gently, “If we left you to your own devices in that labyrinth, I’m afraid we might not find you again until after the wedding, half starved and crazed. I don’t wish to become a widow before I’m even married,” she jokes.

I incline my head, meaning to object, but think the better of it. Perhaps I can use the time to learn more about how exactly this “Gilroy” came to be so closely acquainted with my bride. “Very well. I will be in your care.”