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The vast parade of royal carriages and steeds approached the Palace Du Bois under the blazing summer sun after a travel time of two days. The servants of the Duke's household bustled about the palace, cleaning the final areas of the home until they were expected in the front hall. It had been complete chaos that entire week in preparation for the Royal visit for the entire household, including the Duchess, who had experienced quite a few anxiety attacks in result of it. The daughter of the Noble family, Lady Clarice Du Bois, rode in the parade of coaches as well, returning home for a visit from the season. No better way to catch the Prince's attention than to be spending time with him herself, she thought, as she stitched the last few flowers into the embroidered handkerchief she had been working on. The only problem was, all of the other daughters of the nobility being visited on the tour were here to accompany the Prince as well.

The four girls stared at each other with devious expressions in their eyes. They were all on this tour for one reason, and that was to get to spend time with the Prince. They all wanted to be royalty, for they had been raised for that very purpose. Three of the debutantes, Mademoiselle Clarice, Mademoiselle Fiona, and Mademoiselle Charlotte had all been raised up as a princesses, and everyone knew it. They had always had the luxury of royalty, but now they wanted it for real. They would fight to the death if it meant they got to become the Prince's wife, and that was an understatement. Mademoiselle Marguerite Conseste on the other hand, preferred to keep to herself entirely. She watched the other girls stare each other down with hate strewn across their beautiful faces as she clenched the sides of her novel nervously. Her shiny blonde hair fell across her eyes as she glanced out of the window.

Ariella tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she tapped her foot restlessly against the carriage floor, she had been anxious ever since the driver had announced the half hour mark. She needed to stretch her legs desperately, and though Cal was most definitely a sight for sore eyes, her eyes were too sore to even look away from the window.

Prince Cal watched Ariella with a mischievous expression, her skin glowing as the sun poured down upon her blushing cheeks and silky white chest. He wanted to reach out and touch her just then but was abruptly stopped by the halt of their carriage.

Ariella burst through the door and hopped off of the step, landing in the wet earth. Mud was thrown up onto the skirt of her pale pink gown as she spun around in the sunlight, not noticing the envious eyes of four young women standing thirty yards behind her. Though, Cal did notice this, and rushed to her side, placing his hand on the crook of her elbow to steady her while glancing behind him to find the girl's now embarrassed expressions.

A few footmen came to greet Cal and Ariella and lead them into the palace, one of them eyeing Ariella's ruined gown as they crossed over the pristine marble tile of the front hall. The rest of the royal entourage, including the debutantes, their ladies in waiting, several footmen and a few valets entered behind them. The entirety of the group admired the painted ceiling and spotless windows overlooking the gardens as the Duke and Duchess entered the hall.

"Ah, Prince Callan. It's so very kind of you to visit us on the tour this year, we are quite honored." Said the Duke. His white hair and mustache combed to perfection as he and his wife bowed deeply in front of him.

The Duchess rose elegantly from her curtsy to offer her hand to the Prince, which he softly kissed, then turned her attention to the disheveled Ariella, "And who might this be?" She asked politely, though a surge of worry washed through her veins as she noticed the girl's beauty.

"Mademoiselle Ariella du Montamorte, daughter to Count and Countess Montamorte," piped up Cal, who had previously been almost silent, "I've asked her to accompany me on the tour this year, she is a close friend."

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