At the beginning of November, Martierra wasn't on Freya's radar. She didn't even know about it. In fact, the only thing on her mind was saving enough to open her dance center.

Here she was wrapping up her day, after many firsts, in a Royal Palace, among Royals, and dating a Prince, and all because her two friends and employees almost had to twist her arm to go out one night. It all seemed unfathomable. But that was exactly where she was.

The Queen had been so gracious with inviting her to the hospital. To witness first hand such an important figure within the monarchy rolling up her sleeves and helping was humbling. It wasn't about photo ops as there were no cameras. It was genuine service for others that really mattered. A power used for good.

Freya did her best to follow the Queen's example. One thing had led to another, and before they'd noticed, they'd spent most of the day helping feed, play games, and read to each of the patients.

One patient, Gregorio, had warmed up to Freya so much that the Queen made him Freya's honorary assistant for the day. He had a great spirit about him, but his body was frail and his energy? Quickly depleted. Freya helped him take his medication and get into bed for a nap. She held his hand while his eyes fought to stay awake, then his blinking became less as his breathing slowed until he was fast asleep.

Every experience with each individual touched Freya profoundly, moving within her an appreciation for the smaller, less noticeable details in life.

The Queen was complimentary towards her when they returned to the palace where she suggested Freya should get some rest before preparing for dinner. They were expecting guests.

Estella desperately attempted to explain mannerisms and etiquette, becoming flustered with the many areas she knew nothing about. Her strengths were with protocol in public appearances, especially the matter of the legs. Don’t cross them was the resounding message.

“So, not at all?” Freya asked.

"At the ankles," Estella had stressed, “only at the ankles.”

She then ran through a list of appropriate dinner attire left by Paulo, he and his team had everything carefully situated and had given her maid specific instructions. It was a lot to take in. Thankfully, Freya knew Estella would be there every step of the way along with her maid giving her much relief.

"Sophia will be by tomorrow, after breakfast, to give you what can be considered a crash course on Royal etiquette. Unfortunately, you'll have to work with her while getting fitted for your ball gown. It's best not to complain as you are expected to multi-task a myriad of responsibilities as a special guest to the Royal Family."

"Even though I'm not a Royal?"

"Miss Sinclair, I don't think anyone sees you as a mere guest. If I'm not mistaken, and I apologize if I'm out of line, but I suspect there will be an announcement of another sort coming very shortly?"

Estella looked immediately away as Freya turned every shade of red possible.

There is no way we’ve been that obvious, Freya thought to herself as she took in a calculated breath.

"And what kind of announcement is it that you and others are expecting?" Freya pressed, trying to hold her tongue. She didn’t welcome the invasion of privacy in her life. The Royals may have their way of doing things, but she had hers. I’m my own person, she reminded herself.

"That you, Miss, and His Royal Highness are officially a couple. It's not a bad thing, Miss Sinclair. He's never brought anyone to the palace. And his first guest, ever, is you. A beautiful, young lady invited and welcomed by Their Majesties." She smiled. "Think about it? That is what everyone is expecting."

"I see." Freya couldn't deny it. But she wasn't obligated to acknowledge the truth to Estella. However, it wasn't her place to say anything at all. She understood at least this much about royal protocol.

"Please, don’t consume your time with speculation. My affairs are mine alone.” She paused. “Tell me, Estella, would you be so forward with His Royal Highness? Are all guests treated with this sort of familiarity?” Her temper was on the rise, her heart beat stronger with each passing second. “I’m exhausted. The time difference is catching up with me. I’ll wash up and take a nap. Please wake me in time to get ready for dinner. You may leave now.”

"Miss Sinclair, I apologize. I…,” she stumbled nervously on her words. “Shall I have the chambermaids draw a bath for you?”

"No. I’ll take a shower. Thank you."

When the door clicked shut, she let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and walked into the beautiful floor to ceiling marble bathroom trimmed in gold. Dropping her clothes on the floor, she turned to the glass enclosure of the shower, securing her hair at the top of her head she turned on the hot water, welcoming the steam into her lungs. After a dousing, she hopped into a pair of silky pajamas, sliding comfortably into the bed, and then briefly scanning her cell phone.

There was a message from Magnus: I’m captured by your mind, beauty, and soul. Every part of me is desperate to know you more. Thank you, Miss Freya Marie Sinclair, for making me the happiest I’ve been in a long time.

Freya whispered to herself, I'm falling in love with you.