"Not back here again," Delilah groaned as she regained her senses. The portly woman wrapping a bandage around her arm covered up most of her vision but she knew where she was instantly; the infirmary. When she had thought of attending another Ball she had imagined her life to be entangled by dances and court gossip not pain, misery and arrows.

"Well, you should not have made it a habit to end up here," Prince Damian's voice reached her from her right. He was leaning against the wall in that corner. His jacket and cravat were missing and Delilah wondered how many times this month she would have to see the man in this state. She had thought she had already gotten an eyeful from the last time but it seems the man would find one reason or another to disrobe in front of her.

"It is not like I do it deliberately. I have never been this accident prone," Delilah said stuffily. Her vision still lurched with every time she moved her head.

"I seem to have this affect around ladies. They just like to swoon whenever I'm around," Damian smirked as he examined his fingernails and the Lady who was finishing the bandaging giggled.

Delilah was going to respond appropriately when a loud crash reached their ears. The Prince's expression told her exactly what she feared the noise to be. He straightened and rushed out of the room but not before giving Delilah a look that she read as permission to follow him. She gingerly patted her bandaged arm and got up on her feet to follow him. She was alarmed by the ongoings in the other room.

Prince Damian was glaring at the cowering medical practitioner.

"Why are you treating him like an animal?" Damian punctuated slowly. He observed the leather straps that the healers were in the process of tying around his father's limbs, "Who gave you permission to add those straps to the medical inventory?"

"He is acting in a deranged fashion that is beyond our control. Your Highness, you must try and understand that our sovereign might be losing his mind," The harassed healer exclaimed in a high pitch. The man took a step backwards out of pure instinct as Damian stalked towards him.

"My father is not insane. He was absolutely fine until last winter when he started getting treatment for a sore throat. To jump from a sore throat to insanity in four months is preposterous," Damian growled marching to the end of the room where he rested head against a wall looking like the pressure of watching his father so ill was taking its toll. Another wail from his father got him to look up again.

"Get out," Damian roared fiercely, abruptly making Delilah jump. She wondered if she was included in this order but decided that she would pretend otherwise.

"But, but, your father, he will harm himself if we do not restrain him," The healer pleaded. The other healers nodded frantically trying to make the Prince see reason.

"I can help," Delilah spoke up out of the blue and all eyes in the room turned towards her. Even days afterwards she never understood where the courage to speak up, in such an ignited situation, came to her. She gulped audibly but instead of quelling under the scrutiny she gathered her skirt and walked towards the man struggling in his bed. She still was in awe that she was leaning against the bed of the Ruler of their Kingdom.

"Please," Delilah turned to one medical attendant, politely, "Would you kindly get me a cup of Passionflower tea. If that is not available then a mixture of chamomile and Lemon balm would substitute nicely."

"Tea? How can flavoured tea help your Majesty? He needs some intensive chemicals to align his mental facilities," The healer in charge questioned her with a great degree of skepticism. The King roughly shoved his arm in her direction but she swiftly avoided it.

Delilah pulled out the familiar bottle of Lavender from the side table and popped it open, "There is much wisdom in plants that even you as a healer must acknowledge their benefits since so many of your medicines come from these very plants?"

"But we are progressing away from them. There will be a time when a medicine bottle might have nothing plant like in its contents," The healer argued.

"Man is innovative in his need but forgetting his roots would be a folly," Delilah uttered softly. There was no bite in her argument or any judgment. She really did not wish to enter a heated debate.

At the mention of the word roots the Prince looked like he had woken up from a stupor.

"I believe there is nothing more that you can do in this room," The Prince announced and the men walked out of the room looking defeated.

Delilah placed the lavender bottle under the twitching older man's nose ignoring his loud wails. He continued to look around wildly as if fighting imaginary demons that tormented him to the brink of insanity but finally his clenched fists lost their fight.

"It's going to be all right," Delilah spoke gently not thinking that he would hear her words.

"My son," The older man croaked, suddenly, his eyes now less agitated and less pained, "Damian."

"He's here, he's with me," Delilah spoke and urged the Prince forward who was gaping at them.

"Father," Damian rushed from his stance against the fireplace and ended up on his knees next to Delilah.

"You must be calm, Prince. He's needs you to be calm," Delilah whispered softly.

"Father," Damian murmured, "Do not die on me. There are still so many bets I need you to pay up on.”

Instead of replying the man closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. Damian blinked rapidly but Delilah reined him in before he could start jostling the older man.

"He's sleeping, look, he's breathing in and out in a reasonable cadence," Delilah explained, "He seems to be reacting to something; He has to be. He is still in his senses because he knows you. He reacted to your touch but something is not letting clarity seep though his mind."

"He is getting the best medical care in the world. He has the best, most reputed healers at his side. He hasn't been able to keep down solid food for months so all he has been having are medicines and soups," Prince Damian spoke in a stilted fashion quite unlike his natural smoothness of tone. The man unexpectedly turned towards her, "How do you know all this?"

"I do not know much. I only have an amateur's knowledge, nothing more."

"I should have known the Lady who took a dive down a balcony just for roots would be special," Damian cracked half a smile though his eyes still looked dull to Delilah who suddenly realized their proximity.

"I am nothing special," Delilah answered plainly. It was only the truth.

Damian got up from his knees and gave Delilah a hand up. She took it graciously since her knees were beginning to tire. She noticed her ripped sleeve and bloody clothing and wondered how she would explain this to her cousin.

"I shall see to it that the tea is prepared. I have already tried so many different healing techniques with my father that it cannot hurt to try this one," Damian muttered before walking out of the room. Delilah nodded

She was taking a seat on one sofa in the room when a female voice called out her name from the doorway. Her eyes widened when she realized who the person addressing her was.

____________________________________________________________

"Why was I brought here?" Cecilia got up the instant Prince Damian walked into the medicinal smelling waiting room. She surveyed his state of dress and her gaze lingered on the blood on his hands.

"Your cousin has been injured," He spoke quickly so he wouldn't be interrupted, "But she's fine and conscious now."

"Conscious?!" Cecilia exclaimed with eyebrows reaching up as high as they could on her forehead. Damian continued to retell the incidents that led to them to the infirmary.

"Are you certain it was an assassination attempt and not a stray arrow?" Cecilia asked with the intention of keeping herself calm.

"Most certainly, a man took off the moment the incident occurred and I would have done my best to apprehend him if I were not more concerned with your cousin's safety," Damian answered.

"And the arrow only grazed her?" Cecilia prodded and the man in front of her nodded somberly.

"If- if she hadn't been s-standing at that exact point, who knows…" Cecilia trailed off and tears welled up in her eyes.

"I beg you to be calm, she is in no danger any longer and will have her spirits dampened if she sees you in this state," Damian tried to be reassuring but failing. Cecilia broke out into sobs and she sat down on the seat she had only just vacated. Cecilia nodded with a sniffle before trying to keep her emotions in check. Damian stood in silence not sure of what to do next. He had no siblings so he no idea what his response to her emotional state should be.

"What are your intentions towards my cousin?" Cecilia asked abruptly once the sobs subsided. Her green eyes were narrowed upon him. This question was so unexpected that Damian started when she spoke.

"I cannot believe we're having this absurd conversation at this time," Damian turned away, trying to control his temper. His clenched fists gave him away.

"Neither can I, but it is a necessity since my cousin was injured in your company in a secluded area. I may not remember half the lessons Delilah's been trying to have me learn but I know this would not be considered acceptable behaviour not just for any Lady."

"We were looking for you!" Damian spoke forcefully, "If you hadn't run off like a wild child we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I admit it a lapse of judgment but we were trying to buy Del a surprise gift. I thought I would be back in time and when I did return she was already occupied by you. I decided not to interfere though the slanderous gossip that consequently reached my ears made me regret this decision. And besides she could have garnered support from many other venues; she has more acquaintances then she would like to believe who would be happy to help her find me," Cecilia persisted in her interrogation.

"She did not look well. I could not have left her wandering around looking half dead. She seems to be quite susceptible to the heat," Damian stated plainly looking very uncomfortable.

"I know," Cecilia looked away with sad eyes but her tone remained stern, "I would rather that in the future you should remember that she has a reputation to uphold even if she is not looking for a husband. She would not forgive herself if she managed to get caught up in innuendo and gossip from your admirers."

"I assure you she is not any danger in my company," Damian said with gritted teeth.

"I beg to differ," Cecilia eyed his bloody hands, "Just remember my words whenever you even look at her-"

"You would actually dare to tell me to not enjoy your cousin's company?" Damian's mouth was now a strong line.

"No, I do not think it's any of my business to interfere-" Cecilia answered with a sneer.

"Now you realize," Damian murmured to himself.

"-especially when I know on good authority that Delilah will never be enamored by you," Cecilia completed with a flourish. She looked far too smug for Damian's tastes.

"Never say never," Damian smirked dangerously, suddenly playing along.

"I shall take the risk," Cecilia murmured with a challenging smile of her own. She was not one to let someone else have the last word.

______________________________________________

"Delilah," Queen Rosemary gasped in astonishment, "Are my eyes deceiving me in this old age?"

"No, I assure you I am real," Delilah said with an awkward smile. It was a scenario she had hoped would never happen but apparently fate did not care to see her happy. Even then she was still pleased she could meet the Queen once again.

"But how?" Queen Rosemary uttered as she walked into the room sparing a glance towards her now silent husband.

"I have a young cousin who wanted to attend this ball more badly then I ever did. I am her chaperon," Delilah answered with a bow.

"Her chaperon? That would mean you are…" The Queen's eyes brightened at the thought in her head.

"Not married," Delilah uttered simply, no frown on her face or disappointment. The Queen's shoulders visibly drooped at the information. She had hoped the best for Delilah but it was not meant to be.

"And it's entirely my fault," The Queen answered sadly. She came forward and took Delilah's hand in her own.

"There is nothing to fault you. I am content," Delilah answered with a curve of the lips. It always amused her how wretched people perceived her situation to be when she felt like there was nothing wrong.

"You are injured," The Queen noticed the bandage through the torn sleeve and her eyes went round at the blood in her dress.

"I, I had an accident," Delilah felt like she couldn't say more without having to explain the assassination attempt and worrying the woman further.

"My son brought you here. There is no other way the healers would have permitted anyone to up here, otherwise," The Queen looked around at her husband with sadness in her eyes.

Delilah nodded and spoke, "He brought me here," Delilah paused, "I would like to assure you that I have no designs on him. I am only in this palace to see my cousin have the perfect ball. That is all," Delilah looked away hoping the Queen didn't see her as trying her luck.

"But you are still so young. You should have designs on someone at least, if not my son," The Queen cried out vehemently. Delilah stifled a laugh finding the conversation taking an opposite turn to what she was expecting.

"I have been busy with my cousin, Cecilia. She is a very charming young lady and I expect her to do quite well in this ball. I already have two proposals waiting for her to pass her judgment on," Delilah beamed proudly.

"I wish your charge luck but I do not understand why do you choose to disservice yourself? I know it is in your nature to hide in the shadows and watch your cousin shine but you cannot evade attention forever," The queen ordered, knowing exactly what Delilah was doing.

"I have already enjoyed my own Ball and I think it unfair to tarnish my cousin's experience," Delilah answered with her eyes on the ground.

"Tarnish! If the world knew what sacrifice you made. You could never tarnish anything."

"It was never about sacrifice, it was about what was right. Forcing someone to marry me was never in my list of things to accomplish," Delilah answered softly.

"And what about my son? I do not understand how he comes into the picture. He showed me what he felt about and yet now he seems to be connected to you enough to bring you to the Royal infirmary, trusting you with his secrets," The Queen gave her husband a pointed look before turning back to the girl.

"He does not treat me with any differently, I suppose although with too much familiarity but I think that is in his nature," Delilah shrugged, "I do not think taking me to the regular infirmary even occurred to him."

"Damian has little shame," The Queen muttered furiously, reminding Delilah of her son, "I expected more from my son than for him to toy with you by keeping himself in your presence enough to gain familiarity. He was hesitant enough to make your acquaintance before."

"He has been anything but unkind and he has apologized for the past; he even asked me to forget our history and move on," Delilah insisted.

"Odd. He never apologizes to most people and he has never spoken to me about this. He would have, most certainly."

"Maybe he didn't want to trouble you," Delilah guessed. The older woman looked perturbed by Delilah's revelation and was going to say something before she was interrupted.

"Delilah," Cecilia called out and both the women in the room turned towards the door.

Her young cousin swept unseeingly into the room and into Delilah's arms. "The Prince told me what happened to you," Cecilia sobbed, "You could have been killed."

Delilah petted her cousin's red hair trying to sooth her. A shadow fell on her and Delilah looked up to the Prince standing at the door looking stunned to see his mother. His gaze alternated between them before fixing his eyes on his mother's face.

"Escort me to my room, Damian," The Queen ordered imperiously. He nodded but before he could enter the room the Queen moved towards him with a look that stalled him. The Queen gave Delilah a tight smile before latching herself to her son's offered arm. As soon as they were out of earshot the Queen started her lecture.

"Damian, what is wrong with you?" She asked furiously.

"Now, what have I done?" Damian replied bitterly still in a bad mood after Cecilia's words.

"Lady Delilah is a sensible, lovely girl and you bringing her here will be a cause for criticism and contempt," The Queen asked impatiently, “How could you toy with her with no feeling of guilt?”

"Toy, I have hardly, toyed with her much less with her feelings, mother. Has she said anything-" He internally cringed as he realized his mother had discovered which girl he had misbehaved with when the Ball had started.

"No, not a single uncomplimentary word has flown from her mouth," The Queen scowled, "She is kind and unassuming. She has forgiven you of course but linking yourself to her when you know her history..."

"Her history-" Damian was now feeling more confused.

"I cannot believe I raised a son like you. The poor girl probably suffers to be around you and you, you," His mother trailed away.

"Of course she's in pain, she was nearly killed by an arrow," Damian deliberately misunderstanding hoping his mother would clarify the situation herself.

"An arrow?" The Queen asked and Damian was forced to repeat the story the nth time. The Queen was quiet with the news but she was not so easily distracted.

"Do not you fear for her reputation? She may believe herself to be unmarriageble but I do not think that should count for such poor behaviour from you. What will the important Ladies from the Capital think of her?"

"There is nothing wrong to be linked with me. There are hundreds of girls who would die to be in this position," Damian uttered furiously.

"I assure you not this one," The Queen pressed.

"Mother, you talk as if I'm some rake. Women do not lose their reputation just by being in my company," Damian insisted, wondering if his mother had gone mad.

"Honestly, this girl has more to lose than all those other women you chose to be friendly with," The Queen spoke as the footman opened her room for her. Damian stared at the door feeling like an absolute idiot for not knowing where his mother's anger stemmed from. He walked back to his room and threw himself on his bed feeling blind rage that consumed him completely. People were acting as if was purposefully going to harm Delilah or damage her reputation. Why did they think so little of him?

He had no interest in her so why did everyone, including his friends, think otherwise. Granted she was prettier than he had initially thought. She rarely adorned herself with finery or flaw hiding powders so it was easy to see why one would ignore her attractiveness. He knew now she had an extraordinary smile; when he saw it being given to someone else he would feel discomforted. He wanted to be the recipient instead.

Damian naturally assumed it was a deep rooted desire to gain her attention; she had after all ignored him completely initially and that need for her to acknowledge him was still a part of him.

And as he thought of her his anger dissipated. Apparently Lady Delilah was the saint everyone made her out to be because he could not find himself being angry at her. He remembered her fainting in front of him and the worry that had flooded his body had nearly crippled him.

One thought that plagued him the most was that did she hate him as Cecilia had suggested?

He got up and ripped the boots off his feet. He threw them aside and lay back down feeling very cross.

"My, my, such anger, I expect it's because of that girl; the one you helped with the drink in the middle of the sodding fair; the one who was injured enough to be carried through the palace leaving blood splatter behind," Bea sneered as she observed his prone form while walking into the room looking angry.

"How do you know?" Damian asked haltingly, amazed how such private information came to her this swiftly.

"It took just one person to see you carrying her through the courtyard for this little titbit of gossip to fly low and high. What is wrong with you, Damian?" Bea echoed his mother unknowingly and Damian had to admit it seemed like a valid question now.

"She was injured by an arrow that was meant for me. I was hardly thinking rationally," Damian spat as he got up.

"An arrow," Bea sat down next to him her voice turning soft.

"It was assassination attempt but I'm not concerning myself with that at the moment. My men will deal with it. I-I," Damian sighed to himself.

"Well, I wanted to confirm if the story was true because our usual party is thinking of paying your friend a visit."

"Why?" Damian scrunched his nose in confusion.

"A certain Rossi brother insisted we visit a certain injured lady to find out how she's doing," Bea smirked. Amused by the look on his face, "And happily enough for Lady Delilah it was the unengaged one. How convenient isn't it?"

Damian looked away as Bea laughed at his misery.

"They suit, do they not? While he is no Prince he is not a bad catch. His prudent father did make quite the fortune in his prime?" Bea commented nonchalantly while keeping a sharp eye at the Prince's reaction. She was satisfied to a myriad of them cross his face and she took his silence as a sign to keep talking.

"Surely you can't be so selfish to keep her to yourself. Let her attach herself to a man who could be a suitable match. Why do not you keep yourself diverted by finding yourself a bride like you hope to gain by the end of this ball," Bea insisted.

"None of them divert me," Damian mumbled before getting up looking determined.

"What are you going to do?" Bea asked with surprise.

"I'm going to tell Jerald to send my card to Lady Delilah informing her of our impending visit," Damian gazed at her with no emotion. He had enough of people telling him what to do.