Still staring dreamily into the rippling pool, Bernard stated softly, “It’s about that time, Orion.”  The Prince nodded like a reluctant child, then falls into step with his valet.  They remain in silence until they pass the roses.<br/><br/>“So tell me, Bernard, what room is Cassiopeia staying in?”  Prior to answering, an inquisitive expression heads Orion’s way.  “She’s, uh, situated in the largest of the guest rooms, per your Mother’s instructions.”<br/><br/>Although he didn’t ask, the Prince could nevertheless tell what he might be thinking.  “Will you lighten up, Bernard?  I was just asking,” he said in his defense.  “I mean, c’mon, it’s not like I’m gonna sneak into her room at the stroke of midnight and ravish her.”  Pausing for effect, he then added, “Though now that I think about it, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.  But first, I must be sure she consumes enough wine tonight at dinner.”  Orion was already plotting.<br/><br/>All Bernard had to offer in response was a horrified expression, as words clearly failed him.  Laughing, the Prince slapped his back and stated, “Seriously, Bernard, you are wound just a wee bit too tight.  Perhaps you should get laid soon.”  That did not in any way help, as his attendant appeared to be in mid-seizure.<br/><br/>Composure temporarily regained, Bernard spluttered, “It’s just . . . it’s just that you’ve never been so cavalier with comments such as these before.”<br/><br/>“Too right,” Orion replied, stopping them both while looking into Bernard’s eyes.  “Which probably has something to do with the fact that I’ve never stared down a fucking marriage before.”  He offered a sarcastic grin, as they turned to complete the short journey to the dining room.