Rosie's Games

"Your grace," Princess Isadora greeted Rosalind with a smile that sparkled like dewdrops on a sunlit morning.

"Your Highness," Rosalind returned the warm smile, her eyes gracefully sweeping over the assembly of noble women standing behind the Princess. Each of them exuded an aura of elegance, and their presence was as captivating as a symphony of stars in the night sky.

Rosalind's gaze then drifted to the majestic estate that loomed behind the women like a breathtaking work of art. This was the renowned Princess's Palace, an exquisite wonder nestled beyond the boundaries of the main royal grounds. Rumors had painted it as a place tailor-made to mirror the Princess's own enchanting tastes.

"Thank you so much for gracing us with your presence," Princess Isadora said with a touch of reverence, guiding Rosalind along a pathway that led to the right side of the palace. They soon arrived at a picturesque sight—a magnificent, man-made lake. Its waters shimmered like liquid sapphires beneath the sunlight, reflecting the beauty of the surroundings with ethereal grace.

Rosalind's heart swelled with awe and appreciation. "It is such an honor to have visited this place," she spoke sincerely, her eyes alighting upon a charming bridge that beckoned them towards a small, enchanting seating area situated in the middle of the lake.

This covered seating was an epitome of elegance, designed to accommodate up to thirty people. Delicate tables adorned with bouquets of vibrant flowers adorned the space, creating an atmosphere of pure enchantment.

The Princess observed Rosalind's admiration with a knowing smile. "You have heard of this place before?" she inquired gently, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Indeed," Rosalind replied with a touch of nostalgia. "The stories of your special affinity for yellow flowers have been woven into the very songs that children sing in the bustling streets." Her words were true, but she heard those stories in her past life and not in this life.

Soon they settled into the adorned seating. Just as Rosalind expected, the noble women exuded an air of elegance, their smiles akin to a sunburst on a spring morning as they greeted Rosalind with a warmth that mirrored the beauty of their surroundings. The anticipation in the air was palpable as they awaited the feast to begin.

Quickly, the Princess introduced the women to the Duchess.

The Princess and Rosalind took their seats at the head of the table, and with a subtle nod, the other women gracefully followed suit. Princess Isadora's effortless command of the gathering demonstrated grace and poise that truly befits her royal status.

"Virgie…" the Princess called, her voice soft yet commanding. In response, a statuesque blonde woman approached with an aura of quiet authority. "Start serving the starters."

"Yes, your highness," Virgie replied with a gentle bow, her gaze flickering towards the array of servants nearby, ready to attend to their duties. Rosalind couldn't help but be impressed by the seamless orchestration of the banquet. It was a grand display of opulence, where every detail had been meticulously crafted to enchant the senses.

As the servants approached with silver platters and crystal bowls, Rosalind's eyes widened with delight. Each dish was a work of art, enticingly arranged and infused with a touch of magic that seemed to shimmer in the ambient light. The Princess's Palace had exceeded her wildest expectations.

Virgie presented them with elegantly designed cards, each showcasing the culinary delights they were about to savor. The intricate calligraphy, written in gilded ink, evoked a sense of wonder as Rosalind perused the enchanting menu.

For the first course, they would partake in the mystical Starlight Kissed Relic Pearls. Just the name alone sent tingles of anticipation down Rosalind's spine. The description on the card painted an enticing picture—a symphony of delicate pearls, kissed by the shimmering starlight of the night sky, served with a celestial vinaigrette and adorned with ethereal blossom petals.

Moving on to the second course, the Whispering Fern Embrace beckoned with its alluring blend of wild ferns, tender woodland mushrooms, and ambrosial fiddlehead fronds. The dish was elegantly caressed by the essence of ethereal whispers and dressed with a drizzle of nectar from the Blossom of the Everlight Tree. The flavors promised an experience beyond the realm of ordinary feasts.

Rosalind couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity and creativity of the menu. Each dish held an air of mystery, a culinary journey through a fantasy world that seemed to beckon her to uncharted gastronomic realms!

"I intentionally chose Venison as the highlight of today's banquet, as it was my late mother's favorite. When I was a child, she used to ask the chef to prepare this specific meal for me," the Princess revealed with a wistful smile, her eyes glistening with tender memories. The main course of the banquet was no ordinary Venison; it was a dish with a name that evoked the enchantment of the realm: Mystic Moonstrider Venison.

"I have tasked my skilled chefs with crafting innovative and magical preparations of venison, infusing the dish with herbs that can only be found in the mystical Howling Mountains, celestial spices, and other extraordinary ingredients," the Princess continued, her joy evident. "This culinary creativity will undoubtedly elevate the dining experience to a realm of pure magic and wonder. I can only hope that the Duchess does not mind my emotions and sentimentality."

Rosalind listened with a tender heart, touched by the Princess's openness and vulnerability. With a gentle gesture, she took a soft napkin and dabbed it near her eyes, as though a well of emotions threatened to overflow. She gazed at the Princess with a melancholic smile, appreciating the depths of her sentiments. "To be honest," she began, her voice soft and reflective, "I, too, get quite emotional in front of something that reminds me of my parents."

In an instant, the Princess's smile froze, her understanding gaze locking with Rosalind's. Without hesitation, she reached out and tenderly held Rosalind's hand in a gesture of understanding and compassion. "I apologize. I did not mean to bring up such sensitive memories during this lovely event," the Princess said, her tone gentle and sincere.

"Your Highness, this is not your fault," Rosalind replied, her eyes shimmering with appreciation for the Princess's kindness. She knew that Lucas, in his masterful storytelling, had woven a beautiful yet sad made-up past for her—a past that the Princess seemed to have learned of and embraced with grace. "Please, I apologize for getting so emotional about this matter."

"Your Highness, the Duchess is right. There is no need to feel guilty about talking about something so dear to your heart," another noblewoman chimed in with a compassionate smile. "The banquet was originally intended as a tribute to the late Queen."

Hearing these words, Rosalind's brow furrowed with surprise. She hadn't been informed that the banquet was meant to honor the Princess's mother, and it seemed that this information was intentionally withheld from her. She couldn't help but wonder if the guests' attire, predominantly composed of hues resembling white or pale colors, was a deliberate nod to the Queen's memory.

As the delicate murmur of conversation swirled around the banquet hall, a woman sitting several chairs away from Rosalind delicately inquired, "May I know if the Duchess knew about this matter?"

Before Rosalind could offer a response, another woman interjected with a subtle sneer, her words tinged with an air of disdain. "Judging from the Duchess's attire, it seems that she was not informed that the banquet was in honor of the late Queen," she remarked, her dark hair cascading like a silken waterfall, her freckled face possessing a beauty that seemed to be eclipsed by her haughty demeanor. It was as if the shadows of her attitude dimmed the radiant glow of her natural charm.

Rosalind found herself taken aback as if caught in the currents of an unexpected storm. She had not anticipated being drawn into such a conversation. She arched an eyebrow while wondering where this is going.

"Indeed," a third woman chimed in, her voice carrying a note of agreement. "The celebration of the Queen is a cherished tradition, held with great reverence by the Princess every quarter of the year. It should be a matter of public knowledge."

Amidst the subtle tension that hung in the air, Rosalind took a composed breath, finding her center amidst the gathering storm. Originally, she did not come here to join any banquet but to talk to the King.

Before the situation could escalate further, the Princess decided to intervene with a gentle yet firm voice. "Everyone, there is no need to dwell on this matter," she said, her eyes meeting each guest with a glimmer of authority that demanded respect. The room seemed to hush in response to her presence.

Without missing a beat, the Princess gestured towards Virgie, who oversaw the serving of the banquet's courses. "Shall we proceed and delight in the first course?" she proposed, gracefully redirecting the conversation toward the culinary enchantments that awaited them.

As everyone's attention turned towards their food, Rosalind sneered inwardly. Since they wanted to play games, she would naturally enjoy watching the show!