10. Jasmine

When Boshun disappeared, I faced the mirror, unable to believe how lovely I looked. Was that really me staring back at myself in the glass?

I wasn't a woman who needed pretty things. All I'd ever wanted was enough food to eat, warm clothing for winter, and for my sister to be well. This . . .

"Thank you," I whispered, though I didn't think Boshun could hear.

I grabbed my clutch—new, green, and matching my dress—and strode confidently to the door. Maybe it would be okay to savor fitting in, just this once.

I opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Viscar looked me up and down. "If I might be so bold as to say so, you look lovely, Miss."

My face heated. "Thank you. I believe I'm ready to go to breakfast now."

"Ah, there you are, Lady Jasmine," someone called out from nearby.

Boshun, dressed in a cream silk tunic with elaborate gold trim and dark pants that looked amazing with his green skin strode down the hall. "I'm so glad you waited for me to arrive to escort you to the first event." He stopped beside us.

Viscar's head tilted. "Who are you? I do apologize, but I don't recognize you as one of the guests."

A male dressed in a fancy black suit with a white shirt came scurrying down the hall, stopping beside us. He tugged on his black jacket and gave Boshun a bow. "I'm terribly sorry, my prince. I didn't see you depart, but I hurried to catch up as quickly as I could."

"Thank you so much, Charles," Boshun said in a courtly voice. "I believe I can handle things from here. Please, go enjoy yourself with the other staff. I'll send someone for you if I have need."

Viscar's eyes widened. "Prince?"

Charles frowned at Viscar. "Allow me to introduce you to Prince Boshun Maxime Antoine Fabien Baudelaire."

With a gulp, Viscar tugged out his list, his finger stilling partway down. His face darkened, and his gaze shot to the floor. "I'm terribly sorry, my prince. I didn't recognize you."

"Don't be concerned. It's a simple mistake." Boshun held out his arm to me. "If you'll be so kind as to accompany me, my lady. I believe the first event is a game on the southern lawn. We can dine and then join the activities." He glanced at his manservant. "Thank you, Charles. Viscar. Both of you should go enjoy yourselves with the other staff. I'm sure Lady Bains and I will be able to take care of our needs until it's time to dress for tonight's dinner and then the ball."

Charles bowed and hurried back down the hallway. Viscar looked ready to collapse against the wall.

Once we were out of his view, I gaped up at Boshun. "Prince?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Very well." I fluffed my gown. "Thank you. This is lovely."

"You're lovely. You make the gown, not the other way around."

My heart fluttered in my chest.

We reached the grand staircase that swept down three levels to the foyer. "What's going to happen when the royal family realizes you're not a prince, let alone an invited guest?"

"What makes you think I'm not invited?"

"Ah, magic."

We started down the stairs.

"You don't mind that I set things up to make sure I'm accepted by your side, do you?" he asked, watching my face instead of the stairs we treaded on.

"Not at all." I was already beginning to depend on him. No, I longed to be with him all the time, and that worried me. What if he didn't feel the same way?

We reached the ground floor and walked among others milling about in the parlor.

"I believe we should have breakfast before we join in on the first event," he said in a lofty tone. "Don't you, Lady Jasmine?"

Before I could tell him I was no lady, he swept me from the parlor, down a wide hall, and into a huge dining room with seating for at least a hundred people. Guests sat in their finery, chatting and eating.

As Boshun led me around to the other side of the table, a hush fell over the room.

The king—the actual king! —rose and smiled Boshun's way. "Prince Baudelaire. How wonderful to see you again. I don't believe we had a chance to speak last night, and I'm sorely disappointed."

"King Tricar. It's amazing to see you again, as always," Boshun said. "Perhaps we can catch up later? I have to admit, I'm enchanted by Lady Jasmine, and nothing could pull me away from her side."

"Of course. I look forward to it." The king sat and started speaking to the queen—the queen! —sitting to his right.

Boshun pulled out a chair and waved to it grandly. "My Lady? Please."

I wasn't sure what to do, but a subtle twitch of his head suggested I sit, so I did.

A servant hurried over to stand behind us as Boshun dropped into the seat next to mine. "What can I get you, my prince. Lady?" he asked.

"Oh, uh . . ." I hated fumbling. I hated feeling as if I was completely out of place even more.

"Bring us a selection of pastries and breakfast meats," Boshun said grandly. "Will that do, my lady?"

"Yes, that sounds . . . delightful."

"Tea as well?" the servant asked, bowing deeply again.

"Yes, a pot would be nice," Boshun said.

The servant left, rushing toward the kitchen. I studied the endless silverware stacked on either side of my plate and floundered with my cloth napkin, laying it on my lap.

Within a short time, food and tea were served. I tried to make conversation with the woman on my right, but she basically ignored me, leaning around me to gush at Boshun.

He ignored her and paid attention only to me. I had to admit, it felt nice to have someone act devoted even if he didn't really mean it.

My heart wished he would, though I'd never name it. He was being kind; nothing more.

When the weekend was over, and I'd used up my wishes, he'd slide back into his bottle, and I'd never see him again.