While I put off last Wednesday’s meet up with the princes, I had something in mind, which I have carefully nurtured over the last week. So we have our calisthenics lesson (not the rings and so no pairing up, I think Ms Consett realising most of us don’t yet have the endurance for adding resistance to the workout) and get dressed afterwards.

And then I casually lead my friends back to the classroom, but not rushing—I don’t want to scare Julian if he’s the only one there. (Evan and Cyril were a bit late last time because of their PE lesson.)

When we arrive, as I hoped, the three princes are there.

“Good afternoon, my lords,” I say, curtseying in the doorway before entering.

Of course, they noticed me as soon as I arrived. They also noticed I’m not alone. Evan can’t hide his surprise, Julian keeps a normal expression, and Cyril puts a smirk on his naturally cold face, his appearance almost intimidating.

I lingered to give my friends a moment to adjust, but now I’ve greeted the princes I start walking over. Behind me, I hear Violet repeat my greeting, and the other three quickly follow in unison.

The princes are where they were last time, making a loose square with my seat empty. A different situation now, I go towards the centre of the room, and I send the princes an almost bashful glance. “Won’t my lords help arrange the tables?” I ask.

Cyril and Julian indulge in similar smiles of humoured disbelief, while Evan knows his manners and gets to his feet as soon as I finished speaking. “How are we arranging them?” he asks.

It’s like he’s forgotten the other ladies here, showing none of his shyness. “I thought we should push six tables together,” I say.

Not one to act delicate, I already have a chair in the air as I move it out the way, and I even feel especially strong from the calisthenics lesson, muscles warmed up but not worn out. Evan readily agrees with me and gets to work; compared to him, the other two are sluggish to come over and really only do as much as I do.

Of course, I don’t have the other ladies help. There’s a chance they might get hurt, especially if tired from PE class, and I wouldn’t want them to work up a sweat either. Women (other than me) are supposed to be treasured—or so society says.

Anyway, it’s only a few tables and doesn’t take long. We don’t have to tuck ourselves in or anything, so there’s enough space for us five ladies to sit on one side and the three lords opposite. In truth, I only suggested to put tables in the middle for the sake of propriety (to put any onlookers at ease). No room for casual touches or staring at ankles.

The atmosphere as we sit is somewhat tense. None of the ladies have really spoken to the lords (or vice versa), just a few times with me in the middle.

However, this should be easy, right? Well, no, but it should be possible if I try.

“For those who are unfamiliar,” I say, pushing myself forward as host, “we are Ladies Kent, Dover, Horsham, Hythe, and Minster.”

Rather than stare blankly and hope, I pin Cyril (who is sitting opposite me) with a knowing look. He holds my gaze for a moment and then concedes, clapping his hands together to draw attention. “We are Lords Canterbury, Sussex, and Hastings.”

Violet, my ever-trusty supporter, leads the other ladies in another round of greetings. “A pleasure to make my lords’ acquaintance.”

Not one to be left behind, Julian says, “And my ladies’.” Evan and Cyril follow right after.

The feeling in the air is like tension has become awkwardness. That’s fine. I’m turning my fear and anxiety into strength, so this situation is good for me, a chance to learn and grow. Why should I worry about making mistakes when I know how to apologise? Be brave, if only a little.

While nothing as detailed as a plan, I have been thinking about this. “Lady Minster has a family background involved in nature; Lord Hastings, you might be interested,” I say.

My hope is that by emphasising him, he’ll take the initiative and bring up flowers—I don’t think he knows much about trees. That’s only a hope, though.

Next up.

“Lord Sussex has a little sister; Lady Horsham, you may enjoy swapping stories with him, and I am sure Lady Hythe would be interested as well,” I say. The two ladies have a gentle temperament, so I think they should manage to coax the words out of him, but otherwise can happily chat by themselves.

Cyril a bit of a difficult person to get on with (unless you like reading), I have to leave him to Violet. “Lord Canterbury, I had Lady Dover read The Lost Prince—you should hear her opinions on it.”

My statements coming out one after the other, there’s only now time for everyone to process what I’ve said. Silence hangs for a moment, and then Julian thankfully picks up the thread I gave him as he asks Belle, “Ah, is it forest management your family is involved with?”

“That is one area, yes. We also have industrial greenhouses….”

Violet, knowing my intention wasn’t for us to all take turns, uses a quiet yet clear tone to say to Cyril, “My lord has also read it?”

And Jemima isn’t far behind, pouncing on the pale-faced Evan. “A little sister, is it?” she asks, her polite tone not as warm as her usual voice when talking amongst us friends.

“Y-yes,” he says.

“Oh how sweet. May I ask her age?” Jemima asks.

As the conversations continue, my focus naturally drifts between them. Belle is speaking of her flower-pressing hobby, something which Julian can follow well since his mother has the same one. Jemima’s gentle forcefulness gets short answers out of Evan until he says something that gets Helena involved; I guess that time Helena spent at embroidery club really did help because he can speak more coherently with her, getting drawn into sharing a story about Ellen.

Then there’s Violet and Cyril.

I may have made a mistake here.

While they got on well enough at my estate over winter break, that was mostly me teasing one or both of them rather than them speaking to each other. However, they both actually have rather strong personalities, and rather different ones.

“It’s clear to me that Richard would have wed Fiona on that day if not for the arrival of Jasmine,” Violet says firmly, not exactly angry but heated.

“The momentum of their relationship had already ended. As the ceremony drew nearer, he would have clung to any other excuse, no matter how flimsy,” Cyril replied, his voice no different than usual but for the hurried pace with which he speaks.

I thought it would be nice if they got on, but isn’t it too soon for them to be close enough to bicker like this? Well, they’re staying civil for now, so I guess it’s fine. I mean, as long as they don’t drag me into it….

With how I arranged things, I’m left as a spectator, closely watching how everyone is doing. Despite how unwilling Julian was to speak of personal things with me at first, he seems to be fine with Belle. Or maybe not. It’s a very polite conversation, full of little pauses as they take some care in what they say. I wouldn’t call it warm, neither smiling or speaking with enthusiasm, but there’s some touches to what they say, mentioning family members and old memories—not a stilted chat.

“My mother actually started flower-pressing on her wedding day,” Evan says, Belle listening with an interested expression.

Meanwhile, Evan has found some amount of comfort. Jemima made a good dynamic where Helena shares stories about her siblings, and then Jemima asks Evan something when she sees he’s interested or has something to say.

“Your sister will be attending Queen Anne’s next year?” Jemima asks Helena. Seeing Helena nod, she turns to Evan. “How is your sister’s schooling?”

“That is, she is at Queen Anne’s, her first year. She… took some time, to settle in,” Evan says, pausing rather than stuttering or using filler words. (I’d say he’s feeling only mildly shy.)

Helena leans forward, and I hear concern in her voice as she asks, “Is she comfortable now?”

A smile coming to Evan, he gently nods. “She is liking her time there.”

Then I come back to Cyril, his smile wry and—did he just glance at me?

“She really did that? And those were her exact words?” Violet asks.

This time, he definitely looks my way before his gaze goes back to Violet. “Oh yes. Such a stunning encounter, how could I forget?”

Seeing Violet turn in my peripheral vision, I turn as well, and now she’s the one staring at me. “We were discussing how we first met you,” she says. My mind turns for a moment, distant memories. But she doesn’t wait. “Did you really force him to hold you?”

The memory of a family get-together I just pulled to the front of my mind is forced out by that shocking statement. Not only that, but I quickly notice there’s a several more gazes focused on me, a certain silence. A hot flush prickles my cheeks.

I clear my throat. “For those who do not know, Lord Canterbury is my second cousin. At age, ten was it? Yes, at age ten we had dance lessons together.” A different memory coming back to me, my embarrassment gives way to annoyance, and I can’t help but scowl at Cyril. “Someone wasn’t being a very cooperative partner.”

“Someone didn’t want to be there,” Cyril coolly replies.

“Yes, well, make that both of us, but my mother wanted to tease us and she very much got what she wanted, didn’t she?” I say. There’s a flicker in my head, remembering my thought that my mother actually wanted me to befriend Cyril as he was going through a hard time. But that’s not something to bring up in front of others, probably not something that needs to ever be brought up.

My tone wasn’t too angry, more petulant, yet it had something of a sting to it. However, the response to it is… laughter. A lot of laughter. Facing towards the princes, Julian’s is the most eye-catching, much like his silent and shaking laughter of last week, but without the need to be quiet, and so he quivers, letting out these gaspy chuckles. Evan’s is milder, but his smile looks painfully wide.

Then at my side, Violet’s barely holding back her snickers, and Helena and Jemima are openly laughing. At the end, it’s hard to tell, but Belle is only slightly restrained in her expressing of humour.

My gaze sliding back to Cyril, he gives me a lopsided smile. “Your friends,” he says.

I huff, trying to think of something witty to say and coming up blank. “Yes.”

That was only the beginning of the bullying. With the focus pulled to me, Violet offers up how she and I met next, which is another very well-received story. She then pushes the topic to Evan, tying to pry out the details of his first conversation with me, and I have to step in as he looks like utterly petrified of her.

As can be expected, the room is not lacking in laughter. I silently pray that no one ever asks why I made Evan join the embroidery club.

The mood good now, a more central discussions starts up, all of us loosely involved as the topic meanders around things like school and growing up, old games we used to play and our favourite faery tales.

So lost in the moment, I never stop to realise how much I’m enjoying it.