Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

Al didn't seem the least bit perturbed by my accusation and shrugged it off.

"You never would have spoken to me again if you knew I was a prince from the get-go. Wasn't it more fun talking like normal people for a while first?"

I rolled my eyes. That was not fun. That was sneaky and underhanded at best. I wouldn't be in this mess if he hadn't hidden his identity from me.

"And you say I have a strange sense of fun."

"It's not strange in a bad way," he promised with the brightest smile I had seen from him so far.

"I happen to love your idea of fun. I never would have thought of sneaking into the kitchens for cream puffs and treating it like some secret mission."

A blush crept up my neck and onto my cheeks. "It sounds stupid when you put it that way."

By this point Marcy's confusion at our antics had changed to beaming at us. Clearly she was enjoying our bickering.

Embarrassed as I was, this might work in my favor. If she thought the prince was funny, she might develop feelings for him like she was supposed to.

A peal of laughter like the tinkling of bells rang out from behind us. Marcy was so amused that the corners of her eyes crinkled. We both turned to stare at her. She was less afraid of us this time.

"Forgive me, but the two of you are quite funny. Based on the easy way you talk to each other, it seems like you have known each other forever but from what I've heard you met at the debutante ball a couple months ago."

"We did," I said uneasily.

I wasn't sure I liked where this was heading. She seemed to think we bickered like an old married couple. There was no way she would be interested in half of a couple she enjoyed seeing together.

Al sidled up next to me and slung an arm around my shoulder. "That was practically a lifetime ago, wasn't it Katie?"

I wanted to glare at him but he was having so much fun. How could I spoil the fun of someone whose life was so pathetically sad?

If Marcy was comfortable enough with us to speak frankly, that was good enough for a first meeting. We could always come back to the kitchens later and work on developing their relationship more.

Once Al was comfortable with her, I could send him on reconnaissance trips by himself so I wouldn't be in the way of the romance.

"It certainly was," I muttered.

A lifetime ago where my biggest worry was staying out of Duke Orla's way, not being smack dab in the middle of the ruined plot.

"You make a fine match," Marcy said with a smile.

Ah. That's exactly what I was afraid of. Al seemed happy with the comment but I had to disagree.

Me? With this lazy, inconsistent guy who had no desire to step up and do his job as the hero? No way.

"See Katie? Someone supports us," Al said with a wink.

He was obviously alluding to that disaster of a croquet tournament where no one present wanted me to marry him. Had it really only been three days ago?

I sighed. "You're ridiculous."

"Only around you. You're my best friend," he said sincerely.

I was his only friend but it was basically the same thing.

I still wasn't over my annoyance with him for making me come here solely to be his friend while we came up with an escape plan. He may have helped me out today but I had a lot more miserable bridal lessons ahead because of him!

"We should go eat these before you have to meet with Mariela," Al suggested before I could think of anything to say.

"Would you like anything else to go? I have some lemon tarts that are meant to go to Princess Rosenia but no one will notice if a few are missing," Marcy offered generously.

My mouth watered at the thought. "That would be amazing, thank you Marcy."

She waved us off cheerily as we crept back out of the kitchen with our contraband.

I had mixed feelings about their first proper meeting. More than anything it seemed like Al was showing me off. In front of the woman meant to be his wife that simply wouldn't do.

Unfortunately, I couldn't be too mad at him because he had seemed so happy just to have a friend. I was probably overthinking things.

He didn't like me romantically—he was lonely and I was the first person he latched onto. I needed to be patient with him and not rush things too much.

That being said…if I could get the seeds of love planted between them before we got married that would be fantastic. Then I could just leave on my own without any fuss.

The wedding was still six weeks away. Could I really help them foster a relationship in that short of a time? What about getting Al to cooperate with Franz?

Al, unaware of my tumultuous thoughts, happily snacked on his cream puffs in one of the palace's many unused rooms that we had stopped in to hide from nosy servants who would tell on me for ditching Madame Chalaise.

I decided to test the waters. "What did you think of Marcy?"

His cheeks were full of cream puff so he looked oddly like a chipmunk. I barely held back my chuckle while he swallowed so he could answer me.

"She reminds me a bit of you, actually. I think the two of you would be good friends if we weren't trying to leave here as soon as possible."

A lump formed in my throat. I didn't know exactly what he meant by that but it didn't bode well. It reminded me that I had accidentally taken her place in the story.

If I hadn't been reborn as Catherine du Pont, Marcy would be well on her way to becoming a princess by now.

I fiddled nervously with the cream puff in my hand, accidentally making the cream squish out over the sides and onto my hands.

Al noticed and clucked at me with mock disappointment. "Imagine how horrified Madame Chalaise would be if she could see you now."

I frowned at him before remembering I didn't have anything to wipe my hands on but my dress. I had to resort to the old standby: licking it off.

I couldn't count how many times in my life I had done this with icing from cupcakes or cinnamon rolls. It was a perfectly natural thing for me to do but Al laughed so hard he nearly knocked over the statue he was sitting against.

"What?" I whined as he continued laughing at me far longer than necessary.

Finally regaining control, he coughed to clear his throat and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Here. This would probably be more effective than whatever it is you just did."

Face flaming, I rubbed it over my still sticky hands trying to get most of it off. To cover my mortification I shoveled in another two cream puffs and a lemon tart. The sweetness helped me relax and I was able to regain my composure.

"I should probably get going. Mariela should be waiting for me by now."

Al pouted and it looked a bit odd on his very masculine face. Just like a little kid. He had the strangest mood swings sometimes.

"Do you have to? I haven't had this much fun in ages."

"Life isn't all about fun," I sniffed, still a bit put out that he laughed at me.

Besides, somebody needed to teach this guy how to care about the welfare of others or the plot would never progress.

"And what about poor Mariela? You have me to entertain you but she is usually stuck with those vultures all day or is left alone. She deserves a friend too."

"You really are too nice, Katie."

I sighed. So this is what Percy meant by someone taking advantage of me someday. My niceness had gotten me entangled with this lonely prince.

"So I've been told."