The captain of her highness’ guard, George, or Geo, as Princess Charlotte called him, did not like Regis. Still, he obeyed her when she said she’d made a decision.

So Regis, that evening, found himself having dinner with the princess. He knew it was going to happen, so he was prepared for the almost overwhelming shyness and asked her if she enjoyed presiding over tournaments.

“Sometimes,” she said. “There are good fighters, there are great fighters, and then there are great fighters fighting against each other. Those are the fights I enjoy.”

“I suppose everything else looks like child’s play to you,” Regis said.

“A bit,” she said. “I do practice technique, as well, though. I had a sword instructor when I was young who could still beat me, so I still know what it’s like to work for it.”

Regis didn’t mean to raise an eyebrow. She dimpled.

“You’re right, not nearly as much. Irene’s Gift has spoiled me. Still, since I know it’s harder than I think, I can pay attention. I know when someone’s put in the work.” She nodded to him, and he smiled.

“Thank you, your highness.”

“If we have a week of being close enough to get to know each other,” she said, “the words ‘your highness’ will start sounding odd. You may call me Charlotte.”

Regis looked down at his plate, knowing his cheeks had flamed. When he looked back up at her, he caught her grin as she quickly hid it, going back to her own food as if she’d been cutting meat the entire time. Regis tried to hide his own grin as he realized she’d said that right then partially to get that reaction.

“Is the magic tournament more interesting?” Regis asked, and the princess looked up again.

“Actually, no. It’s flashier, but after a few years it starts looking the same. I don’t have the same eye for magic as for sword-work, so I can’t see the nuances nearly as well.”

“But you do use magic,” Regis said.

“Yes,” she said, “but I’m not that good.”

“Is Ice Sorceress magic powerful, then?” he asked.

The princess tilted her head. “Why would you say that? I don’t use my magic very much.”

“The floods two years ago,” he said. “They say you made some of the better materials.”

“Oh,” she said, “I can’t conjure things. I can change them, though. Upgrade them, Geo calls it.”

“That makes more sense,” Regis said. As far as he knew, Ice Sorceress magic was defined as control over elements, not as conjuring them. It had been confusing him.

“How do you like the food?” Charlotte asked.

“Fabulous,” he said before he caught himself.

The princess gave an oddly young smile. “Fabulous?”

“I appreciate quality,” Regis said, hiding a blush at how countrified he knew he sounded.

“Ah,” the princess said, but he caught the glance she sent his still mostly-full plate. He’d stopped eating a minute ago.

“I also don’t eat much,” he said.

“Really?” she asked, pausing as she cut into her second steak. The steaks weren’t small.

Regis shook his head. “Nem loves it. She can save up more for her beloved irrigation system overhaul.”

The princess quickly picked up her napkin and held it over her mouth, her eyes dancing. When she set it back on her lap, she was entirely composed again.

“Irrigation system overhaul?”

“She’s been talking about it for the last two years, ever since she found out how horrible the current one is. She was hoping to win the gl—one of the contests this year so she could get the money for it.”

“Did she approve of your plan, then?” Charlotte asked. “The winnings would have been enough for two irrigation system overhauls, for Setan.”

Regis shrugged. “She never said anything, and I’d know if she was upset about it. We both like to support each others’ happiness as much as possible. Thus how much I could tell you about the horrible irrigation system and exactly what Nem wants and how she plans to get it. She needs someone to listen, so I listen. She does the same for me.”

“And what do you talk about?” Charlotte asked, but when Regis blushed her cheeks went pink, and she seemed to concentrate on pouring herself more of the sweet drink. She set the pitcher down.

“Alright,” she said, “I have to know, who is this illusion?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Regis turned his glass by its stem, knowing his entire face was burning. Still, he spoke. “The illusion hides a lot of herself. She’s kind, a little bit mischievous, stubborn to a fault, and . . .” he glanced up at her, laughing a little. “I could talk a lot about what I think I see. Nem could give you the shortened list, but there are parts we don’t have good words for. Like pride, but more of a gentle pride—not actually a gentle pride, but more than straightly proud. Things like that, that I can’t actually describe. It would take all night to try.”

Charlotte’s cheeks were pink again, but she looked away for a moment and her princess mask was back up.

“Do you ever enter other contests?” she asked.

“I participated in a bean toss contest last year—a high brow bean toss.”

The princess seemed to force her mouth not to smile. “Oh?” she asked after a moment. “How do you make a bean toss high brow?”

“When the board is made by a good artist and the sacks of beans are silk and filled with pearls. It sounds gaudy, but the end result was actually rather elegant.”

Charlotte laughed, but it was a young laugh—it was almost a giggle. She quickly composed herself as if nothing had happened and went at her third steak. She caught his glance.

“Ah,” she said, “I do eat a lot. I don’t usually at formal events, but I’m not going to hold back for one guest, especially one that wants to get to know me as I really am. I’m still hungry.”

“What do you do about formal meals, then?” Regis asked.

“Go hungry,” she said. “Sometimes I have a snack before, or after depending on the formal event. If it’s a ball I say I have to change from a dinner gown to a ball gown and spend half of the time I have eating.”

Regis couldn’t help his wide grin. She gave one in response.

“Dancing is hard work,” she said.

“I agree,” Regis said. “Nem made me learn one of the new ones recently.”

“Really?” she asked. “Why?”

“So she could learn it,” Regis said. “Her favorite dance instructor refuses to more than teach the male part, and there are only two of us, so I end up the practice partner.”

“But you have servants,” she said. “And you have to have friends aside from each other.”

Regis shrugged. “Neither of us is very good company. We’re too quiet. Also we’re nobility, even if low nobility. So the servants take the pay and go with their friends. Otherwise we’re surrounded by farmers who just aren’t ambitious enough to want to cozy up to nobility.”

“Have you two always been like that?” she asked.

“I suppose,” Regis said. “Our parents never spent as much time with us as we wanted, we were already a little like that so we didn’t make any friends, and, I suppose, it kept going.”

“You have to have some other close friends,” Charlotte said.

“Not that close,” Regis said. “That is, we’ve both spent time with the other young people in the neighboring provinces, of course. Nem has some closer friends that she stays with sometimes.”

“And you don’t?” Charlotte asked.

Regis shrugged. “The other boys talk about nothing but swords and riding if they like the outdoors, land if they focus on duty—or want to work with it—and the only other bookish one was the lord Trint of the Province of Bjorn—”

“Not him,” Charlotte said, seemingly reflexively. “That is—I’ve found him to be something of a recluse.”

“Are you being too polite to say boring?” Regis asked, and Charlotte’s young smile flashed again.

“Yes, I am. So you’re bookish?”

“I like to learn,” he said. “We don’t have an especially good library, but I walk around and watch people work.”

“Observation,” Charlotte said. “I wondered. The Province of Iles is the only one in the Dukedom of Iles with a decent library if you don’t want specialized books.”

“The Province of Bjorn’s isn’t bad,” Regis said, “but the books can’t leave the library, and Trint kept peering at me, making sure I wasn’t folding down page corners.”

Charlotte shook her head. “We’re heading back to the palace the day after tomorrow. I assume you’re coming?”

“As long as I’m allowed,” Regis said.

“That means as long as Geo doesn’t decide you’re enough of a threat to override my orders. You’re obviously a good swordsman, but I find it unlikely. You’ve been to the royal library, haven’t you?”

“No,” Regis said. “I was never brave enough for that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“It’s yours,” he said. “That is, your family’s.” Then he wished he hadn’t said that—it would remind her of her sick mother. A shadow did chase across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“You were afraid of meeting me?” she asked.

Regis kept his eyes on his glass. “Yes, I was.”

“You didn’t want to break your illusion back then?” she asked. “Or have you been to the palace more recently? It didn’t sound like you had.”

Regis shook his head. “No,” he said, “it’s been several years. I haven’t gone since my parents died. Back then, no, I didn’t want to break it. I didn’t even understand—except that I knew I could not be smart enough to accurately see beyond the mask.”

“How are you so sure it’s mask?” she asked.

Regis only raised his eyebrows.

“I suppose that is a silly question,” she said. “As a public figure of course I have a mask. Well, when we get back and I have a minute I should show you the library. I should warn you that I don’t have a lot of time to myself.”

“Of course not,” he said. “You are royal.”

“Exactly,” she said. “I may drag you to nicer dinners if you’re not incredibly uncomfortable.”

Regis shook his head. “Nem and I are quiet,” he said, “but I can talk if I have to.”

“But you won’t like it,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he said. “As long as I don’t embarrass you.”

Her look was thoughtful as she studied him. “Somehow I doubt you will,” she said.