Princess Lilliana sat primly on a cold stone bench of the west wing garden, her hands folded in her lap, waiting. And waiting. A full hour had passed since the servant had delivered the Queen's summons for this… this meeting. An hour of staring at perfectly manicured hedges, geometrically precise flowerbeds, and listening to the monotonous trickle of a marble fountain. It was a beautiful garden, but it was a beauty lacking warmth or passion, much like the Prince she was supposed to be meeting.
"He's doing this on purpose", she thought, a spark of annoyance flaring within her. "Making me wait. It's a petty display to show me how little this arranged meeting means to him. A message from him, and from his mother." She stood up, her patience finally worn thin. She was not a doll to be placed on a bench and forgotten. Deciding she would not wait a moment longer, she began to stroll, her silk slippers making soft sounds on the gravel path.
