Chapter 87

It was noisy outside.

Second Prince Ian Carcedion looked down from his window at the servants bustling about, preparing the garden tea party.

"Of all places, the East Wing..."

The garden in the East Wing of the imperial palace looked, from the outside, just as splendid as the palace's other gardens, full of rare and showy flowers. But walk a little the other way, toward where he himself stayed, and the flowers turned shabby, the weeds unkempt and untended.

Some of them were even poisonous.

"Not exactly a fine place to hold a party."

There were probably several reasons for it, but one of them was surely to let him stand there sucking his thumb, watching a gathering he'd never be allowed to join.

"Not that this is anything new."

It had seemed, for a while, like no one was paying him any attention — but apparently that wasn't true…