The Enchanted Rose by Konstanz Silverbow

Princess Pierrette of Garverdale, to the king’s right, Ulric on the left. This leaves my seat beside Mother empty, as is tradition. The eldest sits beside the king, the second eldest sits beside the queen, the third eldest sitting beside the second. 
    I greet everyone before taking my seat beside Ulric. He nods my way, a knowing glint in his eye. “How’s the flower you seek?” he whispers as he asks with a wink.
    “None of your concern, brother.” I glare, though I can’t say I’m actually angry. I just wish it were a better-kept secret—not because I don’t want the whole world to know how I feel, but because it’s dangerous for others to be aware of our secret meetings and midnight kisses. 
    “Osric.” Mother beams. “Your father and I are so glad you are joining us this evening.”  “Indeed, we are!” Father smiles, the joy reaching his eyes. 
    “As am I. It has been too long since we’ve dined as such, rather than with the whole kingdom.”  “Indeed, brother. Though it seems you were hardly at those meals either,” Alaric mocks. 
    “It’s true. You’ve missed so much in the past few weeks,” Ulric begins.
    “Try the last three years,” Alaric mutters, though in such a small room, everyone at the table hears him. 
    “You have missed quite a bit, Osric. Have you heard that Lady Tal is in town? She’s asked about you quite a bit.” Pierrette joins in on the taunting. 
    “Oh, yes, Lady Tal! She’s spoken with you as well, Pierrette?” Mother laughs, beyond giddy. 
    Seeing her so happy about it breaks my heart. I do not love Lady Tal. I’ve hardly spoken to the woman the few times I have met her. Once was at the grand ball celebrating the anniversary of the end of Mendina, the princess witch. I wished more than anything that I could be there with Rose, and instead, I danced with Lady Tal. 
    She is an excellent young woman, no doubt, but not for me. I frown just thinking of her, of the ball, of all the moments missed with Roselyn because for whatever reason, her family does not wish to see us together. 
    “What’s the matter, son?” Father asks. I’m sure our expressions—lips turned down, crinkled foreheads, pinched eyebrows—match perfectly. 
    “It’s nothing.” I attempt a smile, knowing very well it hardly registered. I look at my parents, to my brothers, gauging their reactions. 
    “Osric, it’s just that you are of age, and we want you to be happy. When the time comes that you should take over as king, we want to know that you’re married for love and nothing less. And of course, we don’t want to pressure you. I understand your situation far more than many others would,” the queen states kindly, and I think back on the stories they have told us. How she was not raised here, did not grow up with the customs she has taught us. I think of how she looks at my father when she speaks of love. I can see it in her eyes . . . she married for love. She wouldn’t marry for anything less.
    “My point is, we want you to be happy, but don’t force it. Just be open to the idea of falling in love. Even if it isn’t for many years to come, know that it is important. And you shouldn’t deny the possibilities that could happen if you’re closed off to the idea of falling in love with someone else.” She nods, but I’m still not sure I understand what she is saying. 
    “Mother, Father, I . . .” I look at my hands, at my food steaming in front of me, to the ceiling, and back to them. “I’m already in love.” 
    “Son . . .” There is pain in my father’s eyes as he looks at me. “You know we tried to bargain for Roselyn. To break her betrothal to Prince Chavez. There is nothing we can do.” 
    I nod, knowing there is nothing else to say. I look down at the food sitting before me. Roasted duck, cheese, fruit, and bread. Father takes a bite. Once he has finished, the rest of us begin. We eat in silence, all glancing at each other, but never voicing our