Unfortunately for Ghost, there would be no peace for him.
For he wasn't alone in the gardens.
On the opposite side, beneath a flowering magnolia enchanted to bloom year round, Valor Liira, youngest son of Queen Di'Veera's latest paramour, was taking full advantage of their visit here. While his mother was off doing whatever (perhaps the Queen herself), he had gone off to flirt with the servant girls. There was a pretty, innocent one he saw every time he came here, and he was bound and determined to get into that bulging bodice of hers--which was laced far too tight, and which he would be more than happy to loosen for her!
He caught up to her as she was crossing through the gardens on a break and had drawn her under the shade of the tree. Over the last few weeks, he had gotten some kisses out of her, but she would go no farther. She blushed, she flirted, she teased, but she kept her skirts down around her legs and claimed she was too busy and had to return to her work before she was missed. Today, he was no more victorious. After a few passionate kisses, she pulled away from him and motioned to the laundry basket she was hauling, her cheeks pink and lips swollen from kisses.
"I'd love to stay, but I can't," she whispered, and shot nervous looks around the area--which grew all the more nervous when she spotted Ghost and saw they weren't alone. "I must get back to my work, sir! I'm truly sorry!"
"I'm a Lord, you know," Valor said, plucking a blossom from the tree and tucking it behind the woman's ear. "I'm sure I could pull some strings."
"It's because you're a Lord that I hesitate!" the woman said, and picked up the basket, even as she flushed and hesitated. It was clear she didn't want to leave as much as he didn't want her to go. "Surely your mother would kill me if she knew!"
"What?" Oh. So then she hadn't heard of his reputation? That might be true for some noble families, but his mother was the last person who cared where he sowed his wild oats! His family already had their heir, and he was last to inherit. His title meant little. "Ah, I see. Actually, that isn't much of a problem at--"
"Drat! I'm going to be late!" the woman said suddenly, glancing skyward. "I really must be off!"
And then she was gone, bustling away and toward a pair of heavy double doors, which the guards opened for her.
Drat, indeed. Servant girls could be so high strung! Not at all like the bar wenches he loved.
Licking his lips and tasting a hint of wax and cheap pigment--ahh, so she'd painted her lips for him after all! He had suspected--he wiped the rest off with his fingers and straightened out his rumpled coat. Bored now, for the castle was rather dull aside from the food, drink, and women, he glanced over at the stranger.
He'd never seen that guy before, and he certainly wasn't dressed like nobility, servant, or guard, and his appearance beyond his clothing intrigued him.
Especially when he noticed the diamond embedded in his brow. A diamond he had, at first, thought was just part of a circlet or something. But maybe it was just adhered on.
Huh. He was kinda pretty, too.
Crossing over to him, he stood a short distance away with his arms folded and head tilted. "Having a good daydream?" he asked, noting the man's smile.