Gabe was disappointed and it still wasn’t for the Crown Prince's looks… Though she did wonder why someone with his status would go out of his way to appear so common. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was trying to go unnoticed: His clothes were just a tiny bit too much like the colors of the gray marble all around him, and his short auburn hair was tucked away in a manner that wasn’t flattering to anyone and his face was… difficult to read. Difficult to see? She could tell he had eyes and a nose and a mouth like people do, but couldn’t tell the details. Maybe that was why Marcus the jeweler talked about him being more on the other side of the veil.

Alas, what disappointed her was his blatant disregard for them. Although his features were beyond what she could recognize, she could still feel it in his tone, in the way he addressed them. So far he was kind enough, but his last answer showed clear enough that he didn’t seem to think they would have anything of value to say about the very essential matter of being married off. They were pieces for him to choose from.

This didn’t surprise her, that was precisely why they were so worried about the whole ordeal, to begin with, but, perhaps foolishly so, Gabe still hoped he would at least be respectable enough to be upfront about reality. But oh well.

“Say, Misses, I’ve noticed that some of you have a rather peculiar look… If I’m correct your mother has the blood of a faraway lineage isn’t it?” He leaned back to the armchair he was sitting on, staring at them with maybe curiosity, Gabe couldn’t tell.

She stopped his face from looking even more displeased. He was fetching for information, but why? She wasn’t stupid enough to think the Prince didn’t know their background, he probably heard about it both from his private means and from their parents themselves. So why did he need them to repeat? Maybe he was testing them to know if they would share their family’s secrets (even if there were none)?

“That’s right your highness,” Samir took the lead once more, “Father was already a merchant when he got to the Sandilands looking for tapestries. He said that at that time, it was really hard to convince natives to sell them to foreigners, so he went all in and married the daughter of one of the most prodigious weavers from the city!” they laughed, boisterous.

They had established some rules early on. Samir would speak first, Gabe second and the others would only speak if they were called upon. They would stick together at all points but Manny would have a leeway to run around. If she happened to see the prince before them (she had been told a detailed description of him) she was to excuse herself and immediately go back to alert them of his position. Lucky for them, the maids were lovely people that agreed to loudly made her know if someone important approached, so even before Manny reached them with the news, they were already on their feet and bowing.

“Hm,” the Prince answered, thoughtful, “He didn’t get in trouble with the natives though? I heard people on those lands have some troublesome costumes and rituals.”

“What of those?” Samir was always passionate about people taking what they thought was fit, “If two people want each other then there is nothing that could be in the way! Not even the will of the Gods could!”

Gabe couldn’t help but look at them. What were they babbling about now? Talks of the Gods and their will was always a touchy topic, and that moment was definitely not one to be risky.

“Oh my! You are a rather passionate young lady, aren’t you?” The Prince chucked amused, and Samir grimace hard enough for him to notice, “Oh… You don’t like being called Young Lady?”

“It’s what I hate the most,” they said.

Gabe frowned. That was not right. Samir would never expose themself to a weakness like that, and not in a moment like this. What was happening? Was the medicine too much?

“Our Samir always had fierce opinions of everything,” Gabe intervened, “I hope Your Highness doesn’t take them wrong, yes? Sometimes their mouth is run by their heart alone.”

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Before any of them could manage an answer, Lulu demanded attention: “What is this material? This can’t be Iron, right?”

She was close to a corner, lowering her glasses to observe the edges of the wall's frame.

“...No, it isn’t. It’s dark silver,” he answered on their behalf.

“How is that made? Why isn’t it Iron? It would serve the same purpose, no?”

“I wonder…” The Prince put his hand on his chin. The Prince was now staring at her, and Gabe thought he was… Reavaluing her somehow?

“It’s because of the Fairies and those of their bloodline, Lulu,” Gabe shook her head. For someone so smart, she sure skipped some very obvious details. The Palace had a long story of hosting and housing Faes and their descents, and everybody knew Iron was one of their worst dangers.

But why was she up to begin with? Did Lulu decide against taking her pills? But even if she did, she would not be so brazen as to interrupt their conversation.

While she continued to study the walls with great interest, a bell-like chuckle filled the air around them, so deity and faint it could be from a fairy herself. They all turned to Alina, who was watching Lulu with fondness.

“She was always the most curious, our Lulu,” and she smiled sweet enough no one could care for what blemishes were on her face.

For a fraction of a moment, Gabe’s face froze and her thoughts ran wild. There was something terribly wrong. Hard as it was to believe Samir or Lulu would make such critical mistakes, she knew they were young and that played a part sometimes. But Alani would never. Not in a situation like this.

Another fraction of a moment went by as she reassessed all their interaction ever since they got to the Castle, no, ever since they met the Prince. There was something that shifted when he got there, Gabe could spot the abnormalities even in herself. Why would she allow Samir to speak so much without interfering? Why didn’t she spot Lulu standing up? Why would she answer a question the Prince clearly wanted to deflect by using the word “Fairies” of all things? All in the kingdom knew that that was a term used only in tales or informal conversations.

It had to be magic. The Prince had fairy blood and they all know them to be creatures with Charm. He was making them lose their focus. The how and why were beyond her at the moment, and she only thought about what. What could she do? How would she fight against something she had no clue on how it even worked? Could she do anything at all? But if she did, their sisters were doomed. They had no way to know the effect this was having on them and Gabe couldn’t warn them in front of him. Was that it? Their plan was to crumble just like that?

She knew it had weakness since their parents would tell a very different story, but she thought: If faced with two versions of facts, would the Royals believe more in their parents, who are itching to just marry them off for profit, or them, simple-minded young maidens? The key to that was precisely that all of them had to sustain the charade both in actions and words. If they couldn’t, what would last for them to do?

Nothing. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing none of them could do. They were fated to be dealt with like cows, to be sold, bread, and dead.

Gabe felt a touch on the back of her hand.

Big green eyes stared at her with but a second of concern, but Manny's hold on her hand convened that she still trusted her.

Gabe blinked, forcing all her doubts to go away.

She couldn’t give up just yet. Her sisters were still counting on her. There was nothing she could do to avert the effects of the Charm on her sisters, but if the source of it was staying close to the Prince, then she could at least contain the damage.

“Is there something wrong, Miss Gabe,” his voice felt like a warm touch, slowly soothing her worries, “You look a little pale.”

Again, Manny held her hand tight, and she held it back.

It was easy for Gabe to let go, making sure her face looked nothing more than relaxed when she smiled at him. Still, Manny's touch reminded her of what had to be done, and the only option left for her to leash the situation back in control was to take the offense.

“Apologies Your Highness,” She stood up, “It seems that I am feeling a little unrested, maybe because we are all here in the room. Would you mind if me and Manny took a walk in the garden?”

“... If it's your wish.”

She looked at the others and wished they had rehearsed a couple of warning hand signs, but alas, they got the point and readily invited themselves to walk with her. At last, the Prince also stood.

“Let us have a nice walk together then,” once again, he felt that intent, that strong feeling of ease that she would mistake for pleasure in his tone just but a moment ago, “I am sure it will be lovely.”

She stared at his face, still unable to discern whatever his emotions were, so Gabe just smiled and courtesied before striding out.