Liam was almost as upset about the princess's amnesia as Theron was. He knew that Theron was not well liked among the courts of the other vampire royals and that Adaire's servants would probably be feeding her evil stories about his prince.
When Adaire was herself and had her memory, Liam had hoped that she would be aware enough to sniff out Theron's true disposition despite his determination to have it known by no one. He'd hoped that, if she could find it, they would be happy. It was all the Liam really wanted for his friend in marriage. He could ignore the political implications because he knew that Theron wanted to be able to do that and was not.
Liam prided himself in knowing part of Theron's background, though he knew less than he suspected, which was more than the rest of the court knew. He thought he understood Theron's humble beginnings well enough to assume that Theron was really looking for a romantic relationship while being pressed into a marriage of state. That he'd nearly lost the princess he'd taken such pains to become betrothed to and whom he'd finally convinced himself that he could love made the guard wonder at the truth of his prince's calm demeanor.
Liam was confident that he knew more about Theron than anyone else and it frustrated him that others would fill the blank mind of the princess with lies about him.
Liam really knew very little about his prince.
Theron was thinking along a similar line. He knew how little he was liked by the nobility and by the other clans. It hadn't meant much to him because he'd put his nobles in a situation where they could not harm him and his princess had agreed to marry him despite his reputation which would make the others clans' threats almost nonexistent.
The game had changed now. There was a traitor within, a traitor the nobles could use, and the princess had amnesia. She was highly impressionable now and there were enemies around who would fill her head with ideas against him, even her own servants might do so. Whatever had made her choose to marry him might not be known to anyone other than herself. She might not be encouraged to remember it even if it was. Fed on rumours and forgetting her reason for wanting to marry him in the first place, the princess might decide to cancel the engagement. There was nothing Theron could do if she chose to do so—he was not in a position where he could force her to accept the betrothal if she chose otherwise.
Theron's line of thought had no clear solution. He turned the problem over in his head until he had a headache. Frustrated and not able to think clearly anymore, he went to be early and resigned himself to fitful dreams.
"Theron…" A soft voice cut through his dream. "…Theron…" The voice called softly two more times before harshly yelling, "Get up you lazy alfe!" The last statement was followed by a bucket of icy water being upended on the poor young vampire. He sat up spluttering and shivering.
"Wherefore was that?" Theron choked, trying to remove the water from his airways. He stopped after a moment, remembering that breathing wasn't entirely necessary when one couldn't die.
"You wouldn't get up, lad," answered the one who had thrown the water, bucket still in hand. He barely looked older than Theron but his hair was completely white and was worn in a loose plait down his back. His features were soft with youth and his face was clean shaven, giving him an almost childlike appearance.
Theron grumbled as he took off his sopping shirt and wrung it out. "I'm a prince," he said. "You should have more respect."
"Aye," the other answered, "but you've made quite a mess of things, haven't you?"
Theron stopped fussing with his wet clothes to stare. He wasn't sure how he knew but his teacher was supposed to have said that Theron wasn't a prince and rile him into reaffirming his reasons for studying what he did.
"What are you gaping at like a dead fish?" Theron's teacher snapped.
"I-"
"Don't answer that. It seems you've been reading too much Machiavelli, my boy."
"Machiavelli's not been born yet," Theron argued.
"Then how do you know about him? Don't answer that. What I want to know is why you keep up that pretense when it is crumbling your throne beneath you?"
"What pretense?" Theron asked. "There is no pretense. This is who I am."
"You'll drive your princess away if you are not careful," the teacher said.
"And how am I supposed to stop it?" Theron demanded. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Why not try wooing her?"
"I can't woo a woman!" Theron cried. "I don't know how."
"I'm afraid there are a large number of beautiful women who beg to differ."
"They were humans, my food," Theron protested. "My instincts are to lure them in."
"I was speaking of before," Theron's teacher clarified.
"Before?"
"There was hardly a woman at your father's court who did not fall for your attentions. But, oh, what is this frightened look in your eye?"
"How did you know about that? No one knows that I was born human."
"Why? Are you ashamed of it?"
"You wouldn't understand, vampire-born as you are. At court the human-borns are slaves. We are treated worse than the animals. I was tricked by that vampire-born woman. She made me believe that we would be the same once she turned me. She lied. I was less than the natural humans even, for at least they had the decency to remain what they were. I will not go back to that."
"But you are a prince now; surely they would recognize you for your strength and ignore your past?"
"They hold human-borns in such contempt that every clan would ally together to depose me," Theron answered darkly, "even those who are so kind to the humans."
"Then don't reveal yourself, but use your humanity to make yourself the most exotic vampire."
"Exotic?" Theron nearly laughed.
"Vampires are all so crusty and old. They don't have the vitality of humans. It's exotic to them."
"I am a crusty, old vampire," Theron pointed out.
"But you were human once and that gives you a life most vampires never have. You've seen the sun. Use it to your advantage! Woo the girl!"
"Woo the girl?"
"Woo her like you wooed those ladies of the court. You had at least twelve princesses at your beck and call and you weren't even likely to see the throne, fifth son that you were. What is one more princess?"
"My lord?" Theron startled awake and sat up to see a fragile serving girl with a tray at the foot of his bed.
"I'm sorry!" she gasped. "Sir Liam sent me to bring this to you." She gestured with the tray. Theron motioned for her to bring the tray closer. On it were several packets of blood for his breakfast.
"Thank you…"
"Eden," she said. "My name is Eden, my lord."
"Yes, I remember you." She was a poor human girl sent from a small town that lay within Theron's lands. They had come to see Theron as their protector as well. They had begun more than a century ago to send their dying children to him because vampirism was preferable to an early death. Most of the time, Theron killed them anyway but there were a select few he could not kill before their time. He took them on as human servants and when their time came, if they proved loyal, he granted their parents wish and made them vampires. Eden would likely become a vampire.
"You are very good, my lord."
"No," he answered, "I am not good."
"I think you are good, and I only hope that your princess is as good," Eden argued politely. "…My lord."
Theron laughed. "Humans are certainly strange." Eden flushed with embarrassment. Theron took the tray from her and continued, "You should leave now; this is not a sight for mortal eyes. In ten minutes you may return for the tray."
Eden did as she was bid.
Once the human was out of the room, Theron picked up the first packet and drained it. He could tell that Liam was worried about the traitor, sending the prince blood to keep up his strength when he'd only just fed off of a fresh human.
He'd finished the blood and was dressed by the time Eden returned. He was sitting by the window, pondering his dream.
"Do you need anything else, my lord?" the servant girl asked, picking up the tray.
"No, nothing," Theron answered.
"If I may be so bold, my lord, is something the matter? You look unwell."
Theron pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "If even the servants notice…" He looked over at Eden. "No, I am only trying to think of a way to woo a woman."
Theron was shocked the moment the words crossed his lips. He hadn't been acting himself all morning and he felt it had something to do with his dream. He couldn't take back the words, however, once they were said. He began to not want to when he saw the warmth it engendered in the girl. It was warmth he could use to his advantage.
"The princess?" Eden asked.
"Yes."
"You should use flowers, my lord," she said.
"Brilliant," Theron said, perplexed that he hadn't thought of such a gift long ago himself.
"Roses!" Eden cried excitedly.
"No!"
"My lord?" Eden blinked rapidly, almost frightened.
"Not roses."
"But they are the most romantic of flowers…"
"I know, but it cannot be roses. Actually…" Theron took the paper and pencil that he kept at his bedside for midnight ideas, and wrote down the names of some flowers. "Go to the gardener and ask for angrec, jonquils, mayflowers, and viscaria, if he has some. I believe he will. He mysteriously manages to have all flowers at all times."
"If I may ask, my lord," Eden said, taking the paper, "why these flowers?"
"All flowers have meaning," Theron replied. "Two hundred years ago, the bouquet would have sent a message. Now, well, even if the princess is old enough to know the meanings directly, I doubt she will remember. Which reminds me, the princess is ill, so do not linger with her once you've delivered the flowers. You are not well yourself. Once you've done this task for me, rest. You need not work the rest of the day."
Eden went to complete her task. She gathered the flowers from the gardener and arranged them to look pretty. She then brought them to the princess and announced that they were from the prince.