BACKFIRED PLAN

[MUSIC RECOMMENDATION: PAT UND PATACHON -WHIRLWIND ~ ORCHESTER AMPER, STRITTMATTER]

The warm morning sun bled through the flowery curtains, dappling the room in a mosaic of light and shadow. Oriana lay in bed, staring at the empty ceiling. Sleep had evaded her most of the night.

The image of her father and the unknown woman, their short conversation laced with desire, replayed in her mind like a grotesque reel. She had thought that after the last time he had been caught by her mother, everything would have changed. Who could be the new woman? These thoughts worried Oriana. But it was the arrogant smirk on Adric's face, and his know-it-all attitude, that truly rankled.

"How am I supposed to avoid him?" she muttered to herself, kicking the plush covers off in frustration. The upcoming marriage pact was her plan, to get back at him, but now that he was aware, Oriana didn't feel confident anymore.

A soft knock at the door startled her. "Come in," she called out, hoping it was Bessie.

The door creaked open, revealing the maid who walked inside with a tray laden with fresh pastries and a steaming pot of chamomile tea. Relief washed over Oriana; this was what she needed to regain her sanity this morning.

"Good morning, Princess Oriana," Bessie greeted, placing the tray on a nearby table. "You look troubled. Did you sleep well?"

Oriana sighed, sitting up in bed. She waved her hand for Bessie to come closer. "I'm going to tell you a story about a prince," Bessie stood close to the bed, listening intently to the story the princess suddenly wanted to tell in the early morning hours.

"There was once a prince, who only enjoyed his time with women. Then, suddenly, he met a very beautiful, peace-loving princess. One thing led to another, and he stole the innocent princess's jewel. In retaliation, this kind-hearted princess wrote a letter and arranged a marriage between her sister and this prince as a punishment..." Oriana's voice trailed off, looking at Bessie to be sure she was following.

At this point, Bessie found this story strangely familiar, but she kept quiet and listened.

"Only to find out that this prince knows about the letter but still had to pretend just to spite the innocent princess, whose only wish is to get back her grandmother's necklace." Oriana's voice became low, as she feigned sadness.

Seeing that the story had ended, Bessie said, "That conniving prince!" she exclaimed, "He sounds like a right troublemaker."

"He is," Oriana confirmed, shaking her head in distress. The worst part is, he knew about the letter and also saw her father's shameful lifestyle. Shame burned on her cheeks. How could she have been so careless?

"Don't fret, Princess Oriana," Bessie soothed.

Oriana rubbed her temples, "I'm trying not to!" She sighed, falling back on the bed again and covering her face with the pillow. Maybe she shouldn't have written that letter that day, she thought to herself.

After rolling on the bed, Oriana finally had her bath and got ready for breakfast. She practiced in front of the mirror how to act, and when she was sure it was okay, she smiled to herself.

"I can do this!"

Bessie nodded in agreement, "You can do it!"

Walking down the passage that led to the dining room, Oriana tried to compose her expression. She wouldn't react even if that Crown Prince tried to provoke her. She nodded to herself.

Inside the dining room, Queen Saline sat at the head of the table, her posture rigid, while Sophie perched beside her, fiddling with a jeweled necklace with a blush on her face. Her father was absent; Oriana's thought was about to trail off when she noticed that the King of Avon was also absent.

On the other side of the table was Adric, who was already seated, sprawled across his chair, lazily picking at his breakfast like everything bored him at the moment. Two seats after him sat Queen Gwen, her usually composed face etched with annoyance. Oriana furrowed her brows, wondering why Mother and child were sitting apart. Then she shrugged her shoulders. It wasn't her concern; maybe the woman regretted giving birth to him, and that was understandable.

Oriana took a seat beside Sophie, her stomach churning with a mix of apprehension. Breakfast was quiet until the air crackled with tension as Queen Saline addressed Adric.

"We have decided to move forward with the wedding preparations, Your Highness," she announced, her voice laced with forced hospitality.

Adric merely grunted in response, his gaze fixed on a plate of buttered bread. Oriana raised her eyes to look at him; he wasn't canceling the wedding plan, neither was he exposing her. Was this a good sign? Did her fairy godmother decide to visit early? Oriana grinned in the back of her mind, now comfortably enjoying her breakfast.

Queen Saline cleared her throat, her voice sharp. "Surely, proper decorum requires a bit more enthusiasm, Your Highness?"

Adric finally looked up, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Enthusiasm? I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Your Majesty."

Queen Saline pursed her lips, clearly displeased. Oriana, unable to bear the escalating tension any longer, decided to intervene. Her mother was about to wake the sleeping trouble from his slumber.

"Perhaps His Highness is simply overwhelmed by the preparations," she ventured, her voice deceptively sweet. "After all, marrying into a foreign kingdom is no small feat."

Adric's eyes locked with hers, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. "Indeed, Princess," he drawled. "One wouldn't want to be unprepared for the...cultural differences."

The sarcasm laced in his words didn't go unnoticed by Oriana; she cleared her throat.

"Precisely," she said, "Perhaps you should get some intensive etiquette lessons ready . One wouldn't want to offend the Orionic sensibilities."

The Queen of Avon, who had been eating silently, dropped her spoon with a clatter. The sudden noise startled everyone.

"What are you implying? That Avon lacks refinement?" she glared at the princess, her voice laced with indignation.

Oriana shook her head, a saccharine smile gracing her lips. "Of course not, Your Majesty. Such a thought would never cross my lips." But her heart? Yes. Seeing how the Crown prince acts.

The corner of Adric's lips curled; this girl's words were clearly affecting his mother. He turned to look at the Queen.

"Your Majesty, you don't need to be offended with just mere words." He said, trying to comfort the woman.

This only served to further infuriate the Queen of Avon. With an angry hiss, she pushed back her chair, causing a loud screech as it scraped against the polished floor. Without another word, she stormed out of the dining room.

Adric seemed unfazed. In fact, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "My mother is not a morning person, so she can get a little... peevish? When little birds chitter noisily."

Oriana scoffed silently; did this prince just indirectly call her a bird? He was clearly enjoying provoking both his mother and her. She glared at him before digging her fork into her now-cold breakfast.

Sophie, who had been drooling over the crown prince, nodded to his words; she didn't even need to understand what he was saying.

"I'm glad you're more agreeable," Queen Saline chimed in, with a small smile.

"Back to our earlier discussion, I wouldn't want to look like a sore thumb in this kingdom. I would love to know everything about Orion," Adric conceded, leaning back in his chair. "Though, I'm sure the princess has a more...hands-on approach to teaching customs."

Oriana quickly raised her face; as expected, this conceited Crown Prince was looking at her direction. He doesn't know how to let go. Does he? They both glared intently at each other.

Sophie, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, seeing that the Crown Prince was looking at Oriana, chirped in.

"Oh, Oriana would be a wonderful teacher! She knows everything about Orion. She likes to spend most of her time outside the palace."

Adric turned to look at the Crown princess, who was excited about everything, and he gave her a sweet smile. "Excellent. We should hurry, then...A tour around Orion awaits."