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I bow my head. “I am always at your command, Your Highness.”

She laughs and places her hand on my arm. “So formal, Henrik.”

I look up, meeting her cornflower gaze, silently reminding her that our relationship is purely professional.

Camellia rolls her eyes and turns her back to me, crossing her arms. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me nearly as well as I like you.”

“I like you as much I am permitted—”

Cutting me off with a laugh, she turns back, giving me a triumphant, radiant smile. “Then stop playing with my heart and kiss me. You’re leaving soon.”

I hold in an annoyed sigh. It’s not the first time Camellia has initiated the conversation, and I’m confident it won’t be the last. We’re not together, but she very much wishes we were.

“You should not say such things,” I remind her. “I am too far below you. Perhaps once I—”

“Secure your seal,” Camellia says with a huff, and her eyes flash with irritation. “Iknow.”

The princess is angry with me, but that’s not a recent development. Though I have given her no encouragement, Camellia has proven difficult to sway. She’s headstrong and too used to using her beauty to get her way, but I’m sure she will mature in time.

“And if you miss your chance?” Camellia asks with a pout. “There are plenty of other handsome men, Henrik. Ones who show me the attention I deserve.”

Perhaps Camellia hopes to make me jealous, but I’m well aware I’m not the only man she seeks affection from.

“My only hope is that you will choose a man who is worthy of you.”

The princess lets out a long-suffering sigh, and then she throws herself at me, leaving me no choice but to catch her so she won’t fall. “For being common-born, you are certainly valiant, Henrik. You put the rest of us to shame.”

Camellia wraps her arms around my waist, clinging to me tightly. Before I can extract her, we’re interrupted by a muttered curse.

“Where is she?” a female someone says—and from nearby. “And what is she doing in this part of the garden?”

Camellia and I look over sharply, startled by the interruption. No one comes this way, and the soft, newly fallen leaves made it too easy for the intruder to approach without us realizing she was coming.

“Princess Camellia, are you back here?” the young woman calls, her voice carrying into our sanctuary. “Hellebo—I mean,your handmaidinformed me you’d be here.”

Before I have wits enough to push Camellia away, Clover suddenly appears beside a large pine. She comes to a startled stop, and the lady’s mouth slowly falls open as she gapes at the scene in front of her. Immediately, I step back, dropping the princess like she scorched me.

What is Clover doing here? And why do we suddenly keep running into each other when our paths have barely crossed before?

“What do you want?” Camellia asks Clover sharply.

“I…” Even though it was the princess who addressed her, Clover’s eyes drift to me. She gives me a strange look—not as if she’s embarrassed she interrupted a tender moment…but rather like she’s questioning the princess’s sanity.

I bristle, remembering her words from the hallway all too clearly. Like locking lips with a fish indeed.

After a moment, a mischievous smile flutters over the lady’s face, and she barely conceals her mirth long enough to say, “Minda asked me to inform you that your gown will be ready for a final fitting tomorrow.”

Camellia huffs out a breath. “You tracked me down to tell methat?”

Clover shrugs, and her eyes dart to me once more. “Would you like me to go in your place again?”

“Do you even have to ask? You know how I feel about that awful woman.”

And though Clover is likely supposed to respond, she’s paying little attention to Camellia. No—her curious gaze is onme.

What she’s curious about, I don’t know. But I find my neck heating with embarrassment. Thankfully, she turns back to Camellia before I must look away.

“Is there anything you need while I’m here, Your Highness?”