Isaac opened the door for me which led to the east palace grounds. I blinked away the brightness of the outdoors, and found three gorgeous horse drawn carriages behind the small group of people who occupied the sidewalk. Queen Klara was at the forefront, fussing with an ornament on Princess Calista's head.

"I don't want to wear this!" Calista hissed, but her mother ignored her.

"Your mother has asked you to wear it," King Collin said to his daughter, standing off to the side. As I looked to my right, I saw Prince Coleman standing there in a red jacket with a black military cap fitted smartly on his head. With the way his hair was styled under the hat, it made his dark locks look shorter. He hadn't noticed me yet, but looking at Prince Coleman made my heart pound in my chest. I'm looking forward to seeing you, he had said.

Queen Klara then averted her gaze from her daughter and set her eyes upon me. "Ah, Miss Carmichael!" She took graceful strides towards me "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you, Queen Klara. As do you, of course." I glanced over at Prince Coleman, but he still wasn't looking at me.

"We're just waiting for Marjorie and Duarte," Queen Klara said. "And then we will be off."

The Queen wore a form-fitting green dress that went just past the knees, and her black hair was pulled back in an elegant-do and was topped with a fancy black hat. King Collin wore an outfit identical to his son's, including the black military hat. In fact, the only person who didn't wear a hat was Princess Calista, who wore a delicate leafy gold crown. It looked just like the one Luke had given me.

I looked over at Prince Coleman, who had yet to acknowledge me.

Why hasn't he said anything? I wondered.

"Princess Calista," I started, hoping that by talking I would draw some attention to myself. "I see you got Prince Nikolas's gift. The crown looks very nice on you."

  Princess Calista scowled. "The sun is beating on us and instead of wearing a proper hat I have to wear this stupid thing!"

"Calista!" Her father chided.

The Princess crossed her arms and turned away grumpily from her dad.

"She'll get over it," the Queen shrugged.

"No I won't, Mama!" she snapped.

The Queen grimaced.

"Thank you for joining us in the parade, Miss Carmichael," King Collin suddenly addressed me.

"Oh! Of course. Thank you, your majesty!" I answered.

"So, for the seating," Queen Klara looked at me. "I'll be in one carriage with my husband, Calista will be with her Grandmother and cousin, and you will sit with Coleman."

I couldn't hide my smile. Just me and Coleman in a gorgeous carriage. "That sounds great!"

"Mama." Prince Coleman spoke for the first time since I had arrived. He looked at his mother, seemingly refusing to look at me. "I thought I was going to sit with Duarte?"

I felt a thud in my chest. What was he doing? Did he already forget about last night?

The Queen blinked. "No, you were never going to sit with Duarte."

Prince Coleman drew his lips into a tight line before doing my absolute favorite thing: speaking rapid fire in another language! "Ich möchte nicht mit Cassie in derselben Kutsche sitzen," he said darkly.

I freaking hate German. Don't these people understand that I'm a stupid peasant who DOESN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY ARE SAYING?

The Queen scrunched up her face and whipped around to look at him. "Was? Warum?"

Prince Coleman gave some German-y response, and Queen Klara responded likewise. She took brisk steps over towards Prince Coleman, and their discussion rose to a heated tone. I stood there awkwardly, sure I was the only one besides the various guards who couldn't understand them. King Collin watched over his wife and son's conversation with his classically stern face. I looked over at Princess Calista to gauge her reaction to the conversation but she looked at me and shrugged.

"Well don't look at me," she started, walking over to me. "I don't speak German either. They were too busy trying to pump Russian into my brain." She rolled her eyes. "Papa only sort of speaks it. He's awful at languages."

"Oh," I said limply. Something about whatever their conversation was was depressing me. I had heard my name spit out of their mouths more than once, and something told me that whatever the mood between me and Prince Coleman last night had been would be non-existent today.

"Du bist so ärgerlich!" Queen Klara hissed under her breath.

"Warum kümmert es dich, Mama?" He snapped.

"Sie ist meine Königliche Magd."

"Ich möchte einfach nicht neben Cassie sitzen!" he cried.

"Und warum kümmert es dich so sehr?" The Queen said. Whatever her words were, they seemed to knock the breath out of Prince Coleman.

"I'm here!" an older voice cried out. I turned around.

Oh great. Frickin' Granny deCourcy had arrived on the scene, walking through the very door I had just exited from. She wore a fire-truck red dress that did not flatter her figure with a fur shawl draped around her shoulders and a giant gold hat. Behind her stood little Prince Duarte in a purple coat and little baby military hat.

"Perfect timing, Marjorie," The Queen said crisply. I could tell she was still frazzled from her spout with her son. "You are riding with Duarte and Coleman."

And Coleman. Like a punch to the gut. Not that I was that surprised—I didn't have to speak German to surmise some of what had exchanged between him and his mother. I looked down at my feet, my large hat covering most of my face I could tell. I stared at my shadow on the ground intensely, trying my best to stay composed. I couldn't even look at Prince Coleman at that moment. What had happened? It was, what, twelve hours ago when we stood on the balcony in my room? Twelve hours ago when he gave me his coat and told me I was pretty and kissed my hand? And now he wouldn't even sit in the same carriage as me. I blinked away the burning tears prickling my eyes.

Screw him. I suddenly thought, that familiar heat beginning to burn in my chest. It bit my lip to stop it from quivering and clenched my fists for a couple seconds before releasing my grip. Now wasn't the time to yell something stupid at Prince Coleman, to blurt out "Well I didn't want to sit by you either!" I rose my head and looked up from under my hat. I stared at Prince Coleman harshly for a moment, and when he caught my gaze, I held mine until he looked away first. He looked a little sorry, but I didn't feel one ounce of pity for his Royal Jerkface.

"Alright then, Princess Calista," I said, turning to my least favorite 15-year-old in the world. "I guess it's you and me in a carriage."