Snow White was feeling quite disgruntled when the news of her sister's betrothal to Prince Leopold was announced throughout the Kingdom. Unsurprisingly, the news was received with much fanfare and excitement in the palace save for one grumpy princess who sulked in her room, refusing to go and congratulate her sister. It was not that she was jealous of Rose Red and begrudged her happiness. She was sincerely glad that her beloved sister had found her Prince Charming but she had just had a very unpleasant row with Lord Bailey, her own betrothed this morning and was in no mood to celebrate. "Why can't he just accept the fact that I am right for once?" she grumbled under her breath, viciously stabbing a rag doll which eerily resembled the aforementioned lord with an exceedingly sharp needle. After the doll had been reduced to nothing but a piece of cotton, her anger finally abated enough for her to leave her bedchambers and proceed to her sister's quarters. "Oh, Snow. I thought you'd never come by." Rose said with a teasing note in her voice when Snow White opened the double doors of her sister's bedchamber. Snow smiled at her sister guiltily. Rose knew her far too well. "I'm sorry, Rose. I was feeling a tad upset with Lord Bailey. I sincerely wish you and Prince Leopold all the happiness in the world." Her smile turned warm as she clasped her sister's hand. Rose was clearly flushed with happiness. It was apparent to everyone that she was head over heels in love with Prince Leopold. Snow and Rose had known Leopold since they were children. Their parents were friends and their kingdoms were allies. Snow had always known that Rose and Leopold were meant to be together. She often concocted schemes to throw both of them into romantic situations. Clearly, her efforts had paid off. Rose squeezed her sister's fingers comfortingly. "I'm sure you and Lord Bailey will live happily ever after too." Snow snorted in a very unprincess-like way. "The day Lord Bailey and I see each other without wanting to murder the other party is the day hell freezes over," she scoffed at her sister's absurd assumption. Abandoning the topic of suitors and engagements, Snow and Rose whiled away their time trading views on politics, debating about the latest court fashion and gossiping about the many follies of the courtiers. After retiring to her room at the stroke of midnight, Snow fell asleep dreaming about lace, pearls and the silly antics of Lord Buckham.
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Pardue the Porcupine was merrily making his way home from the market when he stumbled upon something round, smooth and shiny. Wiggling his little snout, he sniffed the unfamiliar object curiously, wondering whether it was edible or not. After attempting to take a tiny nibble of the aforementioned object, he ascertained that it was quite inedible, his tiny teeth aching like mad. Disgruntled, he drew back his short little arm, intending to fling the useless object into the ditch when a pale, long-fingered hand stayed his. "Hold on, my good fellow. Before you throw that rock away, may I have a look at it?" a smooth, cultured voice asked. "Rock?" Pardue held up the strange object, perusing it with a critical eye. "Looks like no rock I've ever seen," he grunted doubtfully. He eyed the stranger who had interrupted his throw. "And who be you?" The stranger doffed his feathered hat and bowed as he introduced himself, "Lord Germaine Bailey, Duke of Wittingmore, at your service." Much to the perplexity of the nobleman, Pardue threw his head back and released a hearty straight-from-the-belly laugh. "What, pray tell, is so funny about what I said?" he asked with genuine curiosity and without rancor. "If you be the Duke of Wittingmore, I be a butterfly!" he snorted before bursting into a fresh bout of laughter. The nobleman was amused. "I assume you do not believe me but that's quite alright. I do want to have a look at that rock though before I continue on my way. May I?" he asked courteously, holding out a hand towards a sniggering Pardue. Pardue saw no harm in it and promptly dropped the rock onto the supposed duke's open palm. The nobleman held the rock carefully up to the level of his eyes and gave it a thorough once over. When he lifted the rock so that it caught the sunlight, its smooth surface glowed a deep shade of ruby red. The nobleman's lips stretched into a satisfied smile, his suspicions confirmed. Pardue was more preoccupied with the time on his pocketwatch. It was almost time for lunch and his wife would be very displeased with him if he was late for it. When the nobleman tried to return the useless rock to him, he merely waved it away and told him that he can keep it. With a hasty farewell, he rushed off home, leaving a very bemused duke clutching a ruby red rock in his wake.
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