Dahlia savored the gentle sway of the swing in the garden, with Nylie, her attendant, quietly standing nearby. "Your Highness, don't you feel weary after being outside?" Nylie inquired.
"No, not at all. Are you tired?" Dahlia stopped the swing with a slight push and glanced curiously at Nylie.
"No, Your Highness. I was just wondering because travel usually tires people out. Prince Sullivan has already retired to his chamber," Nylie explained.
Dahlia reminisced about her former life, where she tirelessly prepared for fashion events. Here, in this era, the royal family and some of their servants lived in absolute comfort.
"Nylie, isn't it peculiar? There hasn't been any announcement of a celebration for Sullivan, despite his achievement of a military rank, which isn't easily attained. Has he always been treated this way? Can you shed some light on the matter?" Dahlia sensed she might have overlooked significant details from the book detailing long-standing dynamics here.
"Your Highness, forgive me for saying this, but Prince Sullivan is the illegitimate son of the King. That's the main reason why there's little interest in honoring him. It's a harsh truth of his existence," Nylie explained with a touch of sadness.
"I'm Dahlia Ermacora! I can do what others can't for Sullivan," she said with a brightened smile.
Nylie wondered what the Princess would do now.
"Let's throw a party for Sullivan! I will ask the King to show his presence in the party, including the others," Dahlia stated.
Nylie hummed, ready to help out Dahlia.
"Who organizes the events in the palace?" Dahlia inquired.
"It's Sir Kendric, the Master of Ceremonies," Nylie answered immediately.
"Then, let's visit..." Dahlia stopped and shook her head, "I would like to see Sir Kendric. Tell him to see me shortly." She felt showing her authority would be better in such matters.
"I'll go and inform Sir Kendric after escorting Her Highness to the chamber," Nylie suggested.
"I'll go back," Dahlia said and left the swing. Nylie bowed to her and walked away.
As Dahlia left the garden, she encountered Prince Ainsley and Roswell. "They both need to be taught a lesson," she mumbled to herself. Walking straight, she decided to ignore them only to be stopped by Roswell.
"Princess Dahlia, I heard your dear husband has become the commander. So, where is Sullivan? Why isn't he with you?"
"Sullivan is resting. Do you wish to congratulate my husband? I think he doesn't need your ill wishes... Oops... That was a slip of my tongue," Dahlia commented, "I wanted to see he doesn't need your well wishes." She strode past him while twitching her lips.
"These two are so irritating," she mumbled to herself.
"Is that the Dahlia we knew once, Brother Ainsley?" Roswell asked as he pivoted on the heels of his boots to look at Dahlia's receding figure.
"I didn't know she was a bitch. Didn't you see the way she spoke to us?" Ainsley asked, cussing Dahlia.
"Definitely. She talked so rudely to us," Roswell frowned, wondering what wrong could happen to her.
~~~~~
Sir Kendric bowed deeply before Dahlia, his demeanor one of utmost respect. "Your Highness summoned me. May I inquire as to the reason?" he asked, his voice humble yet clear.
Dahlia, seated gracefully, motioned for him to sit. "Please, Sir Kendric, take a seat." He obliged, settling into the chair opposite her, his attention fully devoted to her words.
"I wish to organize a grand celebration for my husband," she began, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Prince Sullivan has been appointed as the Fifth Military Commander. This is a significant achievement, and it deserves to be honored appropriately. I need your assistance to ensure that this event is as splendid and memorable as possible."
Kendric was quite surprised to learn that. Sullivan got such a reputed rank. When? How? He was quite startled with this achievement of Sullivan.
"Your Highness, such celebrations are traditionally organized only after receiving approval from the King or the Queen," Kendric explained, his voice steady and respectful. "Once you obtain permission, I will gladly take charge of planning the event."
"Oh." Dahlia's expression clouded with uncertainty. She wondered if the King would agree to this, given his unpredictability, and she harbored no hope from the evil Queen.
"But I've heard that the other princes organize such celebrations without even seeking permission. Why does this new law apply only to me?" Dahlia's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Umm... that's because the Crown Prince grants them approval," Kendric replied, his tone careful and diplomatic.
"Then, I will seek approval from the Crown Prince as well. Will that be acceptable, Sir Kendric?" Dahlia asked, maintaining a formal tone, though determination gleamed in her eyes.
"Absolutely," Kendric said. He stood up, bowed to her, and left.
Nylie, who had been quietly observing, glanced at Dahlia. "The Crown Prince will never approve of it."
"Why do you say so?" Dahlia asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Because..." Nylie hesitated, unsure whether to reveal the truth. "Because Princess Dahlia married Prince Sullivan. He is upset about it. Everyone knows how much you two loved each other," she finally stated.
Dahlia's expression softened but remained resolute. "But there's nothing wrong in trying. Sullivan deserves this celebration. He has achieved such a significant rank in his first opportunity. I want everyone to respect him, and most importantly, I want to make him happy. He never even smiles. I know how ignored he feels in the palace, and it hurts me," she affirmed, her voice filled with determination and a deep desire to see her husband happy.
Outside the drawing room, Sullivan stood, his back leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. Why did Dahlia want him to be happy? Why was she so thoughtful of him? Was this some of her new plan to humiliate him in front of everyone?
Sullivan recalled the day when he attended an event on the Crown Prince's 18th birthday. How Dahlia was the one, who threw him into the lake with the others princes and started laughing. His deep-rooted hatred for her awaken once again and he walked away.