"What's this all for?" Serenica asked, wary of the sudden displays of appreciation.
"I rarely talk to anyone without a golden chamberpot," the Dreamer said sourly. "I hate my life."
"You're not the only one," Serenica said and took the grape. "I just had a man die on me. A man I liked in some strange way."
"That sounds tough," the prince said. "I bet he was ugly, though."
"That's rude. Why do you think so?" Serenica asked and looked around.
There were no mirrors. They were in a dark room with black curtains covering most of the walls.
"You wouldn't grieve a handsome man," the Dreamer said, shrugged and ate a grape.
"What do you even want from me?" Serenica asked. "You're going to have to chase me, cannons out and everything. That doesn't sound like courting."
"What makes you think I am courting you?" the prince asked.
Serenica couldn't answer. She woke up, sweating, still in tropical darkness.
