The dinner was a beautiful affair. The Princess clearly knew what she was doing, as every single element came together. The decoration was refined but not too obsequious, the men and women were seated alternately, and soft piano music played in the background. It felt like a relaxed, refined evening. It had to take a lot of skill to make so much luxury look understated.

And even though Lord Jones was not there, Lucy found her company to be excellent. She was seated between a married man on one side, and Clara's fiancé on the other, so she was under no pressure.

Clara, another seat across from her fiancé, was wonderful conversation too. Lucy was very glad that Andrew was absent. This way she would have an opportunity to truly get to know Clara, without his own hatred taking over the conversation and clouding her mind. In his pain, Andrew was able to turn any topic bitter, and Lucy was beginning to see that his approach was not necessarily the best one.

Lucy was enjoying talking about topics ranging from high society, to religion, to the empire. It was not what she wanted to talk about with Clara, but it made for more polite conversation, and it allowed her to discover Clara's true nature.

Then, the arrival of the Prince was announced. A silence fell over the entire table, and all, the Princess included, stood up and bowed their heads solemnly. Lucy could feel a certain tension in the air. Glancing across the table she saw that most of the young women were looking towards the head of the table, waiting to catch their first glimpse of a real prince.

It took a few minutes for him to arrive, and during that time Lucy heard a few excited whispers and a few shushing voices. Again, it struck her how ridiculous all this was. He was only a person, just like his sister was. And yet all these nobles were treating him like some kind of a sideshow freak, like some fantasy being come to life. There was nothing special about him at all...

And then she saw him.

Prince Ferdinand. She had to take back some of her thoughts as she watched him move to the head of the table. He was an impressive figure of a man. He was tall, with a broad back and strong arms which made the sleeves of his shirt taut. His golden hair shone angelically, contrasting with his silver eyes. His face looked like a statue of a Greek god, it was so sharp, so masculine, so perfectly proportioned. And dressed in his luxurious, exotic robes and jewels, he looked a world apart from any man Lucy had ever seen.

He sat down at the head of the table and waved his hand smoothly, encouraging his guests to sit back down and continue drinking their wine. He sipped from his own glass and, with a humoured glimmer in his eyes, surveyed the table. Slowly Lucy heard the voices rise up in conversation once again. But her eyes remained stuck on the Prince.

Lucy was so torn as she observed him. She had been telling herself that it would be impossible for any man to seduce her into marriage. But Prince Ferdinand was something else. It was not just his appearance which was, quite frankly, exactly what she had pictured a prince to look like in her fairy tales. No, there was something more to him. A strength of character which was evident even several seats down the table. A passion which burned so hotly inside him that it left him positively glowing. An aura of sheer power and beauty, the likes of which she had never seen before. Prince Ferdinand was not just a human male, he was a Man, and every fibre of her body was begging for her to bear his children.

She chastised herself as she watched him. She did not know him. She had nothing in common with him, as far as she knew. All she knew was that he was attractive. How would that make him a good marriage prospect? She might have been experiencing a more intense form of lust than ever before, but it was simple, animal lust nonetheless. Why did she have to be so desperate for male attention?

Lucy sighed and shook her head.

“He is quite something, is he not?” Clara said.

“Clara!” Lucy exclaimed softly. She glanced at Edmund, her fiancé.

Edmund shook his head. “I must also admit he is an admirable man. It does not mean anything for Clara to recognize greatness when she sees it.”

“But is it not rude to make remarks like that about a man we shall never marry?” Lucy asked.

“It is how we are made, men and women,” Clara replied. “God put us on this earth to go forth and multiply. And that would hardly work if we found one another repulsive, now, would it?”

“But God made us man and woman, too,” Lucy replied, “to join in one flesh as husband and wife.”

Clara nodded. “And I can join in one flesh with Edmund for all of my life. That does not mean I will never admire another man. Simply that I must do so from afar.”

This was another alien concept to Lucy. She had battled so much with her own morality, her own virtue. She had never considered that perhaps the battle was fine, it was only surrender that was a problem.

And yet... Clara had a fiancé who suited her very well. Her future was not threatened by lust. She could look at Prince Ferdinand, admire his physique and his presence, and then go home to a man who met her personal needs. Lucy was not in the same position. She had nobody to meet her needs. When she laid eyes upon men like Duke Perry, Lord Jones, or Prince Ferdinand, all she could do was surrender herself to her feelings of lust. Nobody would satisfy them. She was fighting a losing battle against her own desires, and she would need to fight it her whole life.

Nevertheless, she could not help but continue to observe Prince Ferdinand over the course of dinner. His every movement was as graceful as his sister's. His aura drew her eyes to him every time they wandered across the table. His body enticed her. Perhaps her mother was right. It would be a fantastic thing to be married to such a man. And she could confidently say that he would not be after her money.

As the party drew to a close, Lucy wondered whether she could perhaps meet with the Prince, and get her first step towards courting him. Whether the courtship led anywhere or not, she needed to start it and fast. She may never have another opportunity to get close to Prince Ferdinand. This could be her one and only chance. And it was better to seize the opportunity and not like him, than to miss the opportunity and find out he was suited to her.

Leaving the dining room, she realised there was just one door in and out. So as the remaining nobles followed Princess Elisaveta to the drawing room for digestifs and sweets, Lucy waited patiently outside the door. Prince Ferdinand did not emerge with the rest of the party, but she knew he could not stay in there forever. He would have to come out, and through that door.

Lucy knew this would be more difficult than courting a standard noble. She had not even been able to exchange words with him at dinner. They had exchanged a glance but once. They had not only a class barrier, but a cultural barrier, and possibly a language barrier between them. But something told her he would be ideal. He was so magnetic... so naturally appealing.

No... she could not sell herself on this. She had to get to know him, piece by piece, just like any other man. She had to give him a fair chance. She could not afford to inflate his worth before even meeting him. He would have to prove himself, like any other man.

Trying to keep her mind blank, she waited in the hallway patiently. And, surely enough Prince Ferdinand emerged. He seemed a little flustered, but was smiling happily. Lucy could smell the scent of brandy on him. She caught herself trying to excuse it, to tell herself that it was fine because he was a royal at a dinner party. She reminded herself to hold him to the same standards as anyone else.

He locked eyes with her and smiled a wide, roguish grin. “Hello,” he said, his accent heavy, but not quite as rough or harsh as she had expected. “May I help you?”

“Sorry to intrude, Your Highness, but I could not help but notice Your Highness at the head of the table, and was wondering if I might be so bold as to talk with Your Highness?” she said, feeling her face grow hotter and hotter as he scrutinized her.

“No, I am used to it,” he said. “You know my sister, do you not?”

“I do, Your Highness,” Lucy replied, “Her Highness is quite charming.”

“As are you,” Prince Ferdinand said.

Lucy blushed and giggled. “I... Why thank you, Your Highness,” she replied. She was not sure what else to say. She had never met a man who spoke quite like that before, who was quite so straightforward.

“No need to thank me, it is true,” he said, “and please, call me Ferdinand, I want to hear you say my name.”

Lucy averted her gaze. “Of course... Ferdinand...” The request struck her as a little peculiar, but he was foreign, and a Prince. Perhaps he was a bit of a peculiar man.

“Are you engaged to be wed, Lucy?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I do not exactly believe in marriage.”

“Oh, neither do I. Not exactly,” he replied.

As he spoke he was moving closer to her. Perhaps... Perhaps he genuinely was interested? Lucy had not held the hope very high in her heart. After all, he was a Prince. A minor Prince of a European country, but a Prince nonetheless. She could smell not just the brandy, but a rich cloud of perfume and an underlying scent of pure masculinity, musky and rich. He placed a hand on her waist and ran it down to her hip. She froze. She was not at all sure what to make of this now. Especially after Lord Jones...

This could be perfect. Prince Ferdinand was already showing an interest in her which most men would not. Her heart skipped as she realised that a literal prince now had both hands upon her. He drew her in close to his body. Looking up into his eyes, she saw them glowing, resplendent with passion. His hands gripped her firmly and drew her even closer. She gasped slightly, feeling suddenly panicked.

Prince Ferdinand moved in to lock lips with her. This was it, the moment of truth. She had a prince kissing her. She could make him hers. She moved her mouth on his, trying her hardest to impress him. She felt him trying to pull her body even closer, trying to close the gap between them. She stood firm. A kiss was one thing, but she would not press her body up against a man's, not even if that man was a prince.

After a few attempts to get her up against his strong torso, Prince Ferdinand stopped pressuring her, instead gently sliding his hands up and down her waist, caressing her gently, sending shivers down her spine. But... the shivers did not feel good.

Lucy was not sure why, but this was absolutely nothing like kissing Lord Jones. This was wrong. This was scary. Prince Ferdinand was far more forceful, far more interested in ways which Lord Jones had not been. Lucy felt on her guard, knowing full well that he could at any moment attempt to force her body up against his.

She felt a tongue press against her lips and parted them to let it in. But it did not feel right. She did not want to carry on. She did not love this man. She did not even know him. Her body wanted him, but her mind was calling her crazy and her heart was scared.

Lucy broke the kiss and pulled her head back. She could not do this. It was wrong. It was not like when she had kissed Lord Jones, when her body had a mind of its own and had carried her to passionately kiss a man who she related to on an intimate level. This was just a passing fancy, a slight admiration for a man who was, indeed, admirable. But admiring someone was not cause enough to do... this.

Prince Ferdinand stared at her, a little perplexed, before moving in for another kiss. Lucy turned her head to one side so he could not touch her lips. He moved to that side, and she turned her head again.

“Do not be like that,” Ferdinand said in a low voice. “I know what you want...” His hands gripped her even more firmly than before and he pulled her towards him.

She realised that the smell of brandy and perfume, which had been somewhat interesting at first, was now just repulsive. She could not. This was a terrible idea.

Planting her hand firmly in the middle of his chest, Lucy shoved him away. Her push was wildly ineffective. This tall, broad man just stood there. She may have well been trying to push a mountain over, or push a hole in the sky.

Prince Ferdinand's hands let go of her nevertheless. He looked down into her eyes, once again scrutinizing her face, trying to make sense of what was happening. He reached his hand out towards her waist tentatively, and she slapped it. Prince or no prince, he had to understand she was not that sort of a woman.

He seemed to suddenly understand, his eyes growing wide in realization. “I am sorry,” he said, “I thought you wished to... never mind...” Although he was apologizing, Lucy could detect a hint of aggression, of indignant anger from him. “I shall... I shall see you some other time,” he added. There was barely a hint of nervousness in his voice. Just anger and confusion.

He turned around and began to walk towards the staircase. Out of the dining hall doors another young woman emerged. Lucy recognized her from the party. Her dress was much more loosely laced than earlier, and her hair was in disarray. She smiled eagerly at the Prince. He smiled back apologetically, shrugged, and headed upstairs.

Her head bowed in shame, the young woman marched down the hallway, towards the front door, pushing past Lucy without making eye contact.