A Type of Management

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"Oh no. They didn't. Just a vague tour of the castle grounds..." Jerome lied defensively, though the defensive aspect didn't show. It was important to keep it that way. Lying was easy as long as you believe in yourself it was true and for him - - it was second nature.

He cleared his throat and looked about. The princess was pleasant, but the vibe was still awkward. Escorting was not his genre, this would be the very first assignment with that task. It would take a while of getting used to.

"I'd like to see your favourite place - - besides the library, of course. "
 
Kieara smiled and left to go show him her favorite place. She loved flowers. Therefore it was only natural that she liked the flower garden the best. She took him out to the courtyard then to the left. She led him around a cobblestone path and up to a white fence and gate. She opened it. The fence was walled with hedges that one couldn't see in or out of. She took him in where there were many different flowers as far as the eye could see.
 
Kieara showed him many, many things. Because of this, it gave him an idea to what kind of person she was. To Jerome, she seemed sweet and delicate. There was something about her that seemed to be misunderstood by the likes of her father and her grandmother, because he really couldn't fathom how this was any form of bad behaviour.

But then again, one can never be sure. It's only been a few hours, just because she's a girl doesn't mean he would let his guard down. He was referred for Christ sakes, it would humiliate his department and himself if he could get swayed by a pretty girl like her. It would throw all of his credentials away..

Now that they were alone, it was the perfect time to get to know her. Without the more watchful eye of her suspicious father, he can look into her life more comfortably - - and hopefully, subtly.

"So... " Jerome started, rather awkwardly. He wasn't used to being sociable to this degree, after all - - he worked in the shadows, and in the shadows you are by yourself. "Is your father always that charming?"
 
Kieara smiled as she walked through the gardens with him. She looked over as he talked to her. She rolled her eyes. "If by charming you mean as appealing as a rattlesnake then yes." She said looking at a few more of them. "He's always too concerned with my step brother to give me a second glance, honestly, sometimes I feel like i'd be better off if I was gone."
 
Ah yes, the step-brother.

The king's luxurious lifestyle has always been a controversial matter in the prime time news: two children, related by the crown, boy and girl. Though Kieara's right to the pedestal has always been obvious, the little boy gained more publicity than the older child. It was his father's doing, Jerome supposed -- for a girl to be next in line is far more fascinating than the traditional crowned prince that has been a norm for generations. It was definitely propaganda, he was no fool to the game.

"You are the first born, correct?" the man inquired, slightly rhetorical. He looked up to the skies and inhaled the fresh air, castle gardens were always so serene in ambiance. "He's probably very partial into having a male king. Misogynistic, I suppose, but it's nothing new. China likes it better when their citizens bore male offsprings, but with your grandmother being the old queen -- it seems shallow of your father to think that way, if he did. I am in no place to accuse."

Yet.

Jerome frowned on her desire to leave. It was a type of complaint he felt that was something a teenager far younger from her would say, it wasn't really something he expected from her and it's not something he particularly sponsored. "Don't say that." he told her bluntly, uncaring of her reactions to his opinion, "It's a message, saying that you're expendable."
 
At his question of whether or not she was the first born she nodded. She didn't figure it took a verbal response. If the question even needed one. She looked at his face and listened. He was right. She's realized that for a long time.

"You're right. He's been that way for a long time now. But I think it runs deeper to the point of not just for the crown but he just simply likes him better than me. He makes a huge difference between us in matters that don't even pertain to the crown."
 
Despite his simple mission to watch over her, the tangle seemed to knot deeper. The grandmother who wanted to protect her and the father who didn't want her -- how many sides were inside this story? Jerome didn't know. But it seemed like it was for the best to take his own side and keep the princess under his strict watch, it didn't take long enough for him to know that this was no ordinary task -- despite it only being Lady Margaret's good intentions.

"How old is the young prince?" he asked, though it's not really a matter of age -- this was just a curious inquiry. He secretly wondered if the much favoured sibling despised her as well, and if so, she was absolutely in a very unfavourable position. "I never knew princesses were conflicted young things..."
 
"He is a year younger than I. He is 22." She spoke to him. She continued to walk and soon a little gazebo came into view in the center of the garden. She led him to it and sat down inside in the shade. She smiled. "Pull up a seat, it feels nice under here." She told him with a sweet smile.
 
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