Two days later, the sewing circle was interrupted by the loud blare of trumpets.
"What is that?" Evelyn asked.
"Royal trumpets," Lady Brennan replied. "They sound different when used to welcome foreign royalty."
Alina set her work aside and walked towards the garden wall. The others followed slowly, drawn by curiousity. A white carriage stood in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by guards in unfamiliar uniforms.
The carriage door opened. The man who stepped out seemed to carry light with him. His hair was pale, his coat dark blue, embroidered with silver threads. And his smile was radiant and contagious.
Everyone curtsied as he passes. Alina stood at the garden wall, still holding the wool in her hands, and watched him without lowering her gaze.
The prince greeted those around him warmly, exchanging words and nods. Then his eyes moved across the courtyard and paused on Alina briefly. He smiled. Alina still didn't bow.
Then he turned, and got lost in the crowd.
