The first time Marian noticed it, she didn’t think much of it.
The second time, she laughed.
The third time, she became mildly annoyed.
By the fourth time, she started counting.
"That’s five."
Across from her, Adrian looked up.
"Five what?"
"Five mentions."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
Marian narrowed her eyes.
Dangerously.
Suspiciously.
With great determination.
"Miss Hart."
Adrian blinked.
"What about her?"
"There."
"Where?"
"You just did it again."
The Crown Prince stared.
Marian pointed dramatically.
"You made that face."
"What face?"
"The face."
"Marian."
"The thoughtful face."
"I always look thoughtful."
"Exactly."
Adrian looked moments away from surrendering.
An encouraging sign.
The two of them sat in one of the palace’s private sitting rooms.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows.
Tea rested untouched on the table.
A stack of reports sat beside Adrian.
A romance novel sat beside Marian.
One of these activities was clearly superior.
Not that Adrian appreciated art.
"You’re imagining things."
"I am not."
"You are."
Marian leaned forward.
"Last week you mentioned Miss Hart during dinner."
"She was involved in the discussion."
"Then you mentioned her during the charity committee meeting."
"She was involved in that as well."
"Then yesterday."
Adrian paused.
Marian smiled triumphantly.
"Aha."
"That proves nothing."
"It proves everything."
"It proves I work."
A tragic condition.
Marian had long accepted that Adrian suffered from it.
Still.
She found herself smiling.
Because the entire thing felt ridiculous.
Elena worked with palace medical initiatives.
Naturally Adrian would mention her occasionally.
Marian knew that.
Which was why she wasn’t actually jealous.
Merely amused.
At least for now.
The truth was that Elena Hart had become surprisingly useful.
The thought occurred to Marian while attending another charity planning meeting.
An event she had only attended because Countess Everett had personally requested it.
A trap.
Clearly.
The Countess sat at the head of the table.
Several noblewomen occupied nearby seats.
Elena sat among them.
Taking notes.
Offering suggestions.
Actually paying attention.
A concerning personality trait.
Marian personally believed meetings should be survived rather than enjoyed.
Elena apparently disagreed.
"That could work."
A noblewoman nodded.
Another agreed.
And before Marian realized it, half the room was listening to Elena.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The healer wasn’t influential because of her title.
She didn’t have one.
She wasn’t influential because of her wealth.
She didn’t possess much.
People listened because she knew what she was talking about.
An unusual advantage.
Marian briefly imagined herself trying to explain medical supply distribution.
The result would be disastrous.
Possibly fatal.
Best not to risk it.
"Lady Marian?"
Marian looked up.
The Countess was staring at her.
Dangerous.
"What?"
"You haven’t contributed."
"I contributed my presence."
The Countess sighed.
Several women laughed.
Elena tried not to.
Failed.
And immediately looked guilty.
Marian pointed.
"You laughed."
"A little."
"Excellent."
At least somebody appreciated her.
Later that afternoon, the meeting finally ended.
A blessing.
A miracle.
A triumph of civilization.
Marian escaped before anyone could assign her responsibilities.
Unfortunately, she encountered Adrian in the hallway.
The Crown Prince looked suspicious.
Mostly because he appeared productive.
"How was the meeting?"
"Tedious."
"You say that about every meeting."
"Because every meeting deserves it."
Adrian laughed.
Marian immediately felt pleased.
Some habits never changed.
Then she noticed something.
A document tucked beneath Adrian’s arm.
Several names appeared across the page.
Most meant nothing to her.
One did.
Elena Hart.
Marian blinked.
"Huh."
Adrian looked down.
"What?"
"Nothing."
The answer came automatically.
Because it genuinely was nothing.
A medical report.
A committee proposal.
A funding request.
Something boring.
Something administrative.
Something Adrian loved for reasons Marian would never understand.
Still...
For a brief moment, she found herself thinking.
Not worrying.
Thinking.
Elena seemed to appear frequently these days.
At meetings.
At events.
At court.
In reports.
In conversations.
The observation lingered.
Then disappeared.
Because there was a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Elena was working.
Adrian was working.
Naturally their paths crossed.
That was all.
That evening, Marian found herself seated beside Countess Everett.
A dangerous position.
The older woman knew too much.
"You’re thinking."
Marian immediately became defensive.
"No."
"You are."
"I’m not."
"You made the thoughtful face."
Marian froze.
The Countess smiled.
Traitor.
Complete traitor.
"Adrian says the same thing."
"Then he’s correct."
"That’s unfortunate."
The Countess laughed softly.
Then looked toward the ballroom.
Toward Elena.
The young healer spoke with several physicians.
Animated.
Focused.
Happy.
"She’s doing well."
Marian followed the older woman’s gaze.
"She is."
"You like her."
The statement surprised her.
Because it was true.
Annoyingly true.
"She’s difficult to dislike."
The Countess smiled.
"I thought you’d say that."
Marian tilted her head.
"Shouldn’t I?"
"No."
The older woman looked amused.
"Most noble ladies don’t enjoy being compared to beautiful young women."
Marian snorted.
Compared.
As though that were the issue.
Honestly.
Marian had met Elena.
The comparison wasn’t what worried people.
It certainly didn’t worry her.
Then again—
Marian paused.
A strange thought occurring.
Not because Elena was prettier.
Not because Elena was wealthier.
Not because Elena was more accomplished.
But because Elena was different.
And Adrian seemed to notice differences.
The thought arrived.
Then vanished.
Dismissed immediately.
Because eighteen years mattered more than differences.
Didn’t they?
Of course they did.
Marian smiled.
The music swelled.
The ballroom glittered.
And somewhere nearby, fate smiled too.
Patiently.
Because the first time Marian questioned herself, however briefly, had finally arrived.