Princess Lily

Oliver began to play his lute. He glanced at the king, then smiled. The first song he would play in front of them was one that did not showcase the depths of his abilities. He didn't know how it would go over, but it made Fennel smile.

"The day was bad, and he felt very stuck!

But a sudden bout of inspiration struck!

The southern slums, where he felt so glum!

I found him sipping rum and eating a plum!

So the man got drunk and fell on the road!

But oh, how he never felt so bold!

Soon, the lady he loved had moved far away.

So he sat on the ground and picked at his tail all day!

The day got even worse as a bald spot appeared!

He gasped in shock and screamed, Oh dear!

The legend of Sir Baldtale and his bad day is now told!

A man of a hairless tail and no accord."

Oliver played a few notes on his lute, then stood up. He took a bow. It wasn't his best work, but he found it amusing.

"That is all I have," Oliver smiled. "I hope you all enjoyed it."

"It was hilarious!" a voice rang out. "I wonder if this was a true story."

"You have done well, I guess," Anise nodded. "Your voice would sound wonderful no matter what you sang. Though, for your next song, please refrain from comedy."

"My apologies," Oliver said, his cheeks growing a little red.

"No need," Anise smiled. "You did great."

"Thank you," Oliver bowed.

"Now, the king has an announcement to make," Anise said.

Fennel stood up, his ears and tail twitching nervously. This was one announcement he didn't wish to make, but it was for the good of the kingdom.

"Thank you, everyone," Fennel said, then cleared his throat. "As you know, I am in need of a queen."

"We can see that," a nobleman called out.

"Please, be quiet," Fennel frowned. "I will be speaking with many of you in an attempt to find a suitable match. My goal is to find a woman who can stand by my side and help rule our kingdom."

The crowd clapped.

"Now, I will leave the rest to Oliver," Fennel said, then walked down the steps and off the stage.

"Thank you," Anise said.

"You're welcome," Fennel nodded, then continued to walk into the crowd.

Oliver's eyes were locked on the feline. His heart ached with longing. He began playing the tune of the song, which drew Fennel to him, and allowed him the opportunity to be where he currently stood.

The way the bard played was emotional. It was as if he was channeling all of his feelings into the notes. 

Fennel shivered as he heard the music. Somehow, the piece was even more amazing than the last time he heard it.

His thoughts were interrupted when a butler handed him a glass of deep, red wine. He had never had wine before, so he was somewhat apprehensive.

He brought the glass up to his nose, swirling it around. He recoiled. The scent was repulsive. 

The taste was just as bad, but he kept a straight face. If he wanted to blend in, he would need to get used to the taste, as wine drinking was common among the parties.

Fennel moved to a column near the center of the room. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He just wanted to listen to Oliver's music.

"Your majesty!" A chipper, female voice approached.

His eyes opened. It didn't take long for him to be approached.

Internally dreading the conversation he would have, he took the lady's hand and gently pressed a kiss to the back of it.

The action caused the woman to turn beet red and giggle.

She was an attractive young woman, as many of the nobles were, but he didn't feel the same connection at first sight as he did when he met the bard.

"My name is Emma," the short brunette spoke, as she fidgeted nervously with the fabric of her dress. "I thought I would introduce myself to you."

"It's a pleasure, Lady Emma," Fennel replied, his tone more masculine than usual. 

"Could we-"

Emma was interrupted when a few more women pushed her aside. Four women had honed in on Fennel. They weren't even the last of the crowd that would slowly begin to form around him.

It appeared every eligible woman in the room had wanted to introduce themselves to the king. 

As Oliver played, he kept a close eye on the bard. Somehow, he could tell Fennel had been overwhelmed by the hoard of adorning fans. There were so many bodies gathered around that he had even lost sight of the bright, copper ears in the sea of lasses.

If he weren't the king, Oliver was sure Fennel would have been screaming. He was probably internally screaming, the bard thought. It made him snicker. 

Yes, Fennel was internally screaming.

In no time, the woman began to bicker. Emma, and a tall blonde woman, had their arms wrapped around his, urging him to dance with them.

He sighed. These women weren't fit to be queens. They were clinging to him as if their lives depended on it. The desperation in the air was even thicker than when he witnessed Callie attempt to seduce every man she came across.

And that was a sad thought.

"Ladies," Fennel said in a stern tone. "Please, no arguing."

The women all widened their eyes. They hadn't realized they were fighting for his attention. He felt the two women release their grip as the others bowed as an apology.

As they stood with their heads lowered, King Oscar, from the neighboring kingdom, forcefully pushed himself through the crowd.

The man towered over them, even the tallest of them. 

When he made it just a mere foot from the copper-eared royal, he bowed.

"King Fennel," he began. "You made a promise to me, correct?"

The women began whispering to each other.

"I did," Fennel replied as he looked up at the tall man. "Where is your daughter?"

A few of the women gasped.

"The opposite side of the room," Oscar said, turning around. "Come with me."

Fennel nodded to the woman. The crowd separated, allowing the two to freely pass.

Oscar led the feline to where his daughter was. When Fennel approached, he saw a beautiful, blue-eyed blonde, wearing a poofy, yellow dress. She was even shorter than he was, which surprised the king, as he had always been small. 

He could tell she was nervous when she looked up at him. Her white gloved hands were folded in front of her body.

"Lily," Oscar began, gesturing to Fennel. "The new king would like to speak with you."

"O-Okay," she nodded, her cheeks flushing. 

Oscar waved, smirked, and then walked off.

Fennel smiled at the blonde woman. He wasn't sure what to say, as her posture and expression made it appear she wanted to be present as much as he did.

Instead of asking for a dance, he leaned back against the wall beside her. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I'm trying," she whispered, her gaze on the floor.

"You don't need to be nervous," Fennel said in a soothing tone. "To be honest, this is very sudden for me, so I'm not too into the occasion myself."

She placed her hand over her mouth and gasped, looking up at him. "You seem so confident! You looked cool on the throne."

"I wish that's how I felt in here," The king pointed at his forehead. "It's a mess."

"I would have never guessed," she sighed, but Fennel could tell she was somewhat relaxed.

"Lily is a pretty name."

"Do you really think so?" 

"Yes," Fennel whispered, offering his hand.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, but she placed her gloved hand in his.

Fennel wasn't too comfortable. It was easier to speak to Lily compared to the other woman in the room. He looked around, noticing most of the ladies in the room had their eyes narrowed on them.

"Ah, shouldn't you go talk to the others?" Lily asked. "They're all staring at us."

"Let them stare, it's fine," Fennel grumbled.

"If you're sure," she replied, her eyes looking back up at him.

Fennel glanced over at her, letting his gaze linger on her features. She was so soft and delicate. It almost seemed like she needed to be protected. Being a king's daughter, he was sure she had plenty of knights fighting for her affection.

Somehow, a protective instinct was ignited in him. It wasn't romantic, but more like seeing a small, timid animal that needed someone to look after it.

The thought made Fenne chuckle.

"What's funny?" Lily asked, her face full of concern.

"It's nothing, I just remembered something."

Lily nodded, seemingly to have agreed to the explanation. She tightened her grip on his hand. He could feel her arm trembling as they stood close together.

"Lily," Fennel began. "Would you like to dance?"

"You want to dance with me?" She tilted her head to the side. 

"Of course."

She nodded in agreement.

Fennel led her to the center of the room, where other nobles were dancing to the songs the bard played.

The onlookers all turned their sights to the pair in the center. The women were jealous, as they flashed a lot of angry looks in the blonde's direction. The king bad set his sight on a small, meek woman, and they couldn't understand the appeal.

As the two placed their hands on each other and began to dance, Oliver looked on. The woman Fennel danced with had a lot of charm and untapped grace. 

It actually made him feel uneasy.