Meet at midnight in the library.  Orion ignored the fact that it sounded so cliché.  Although he wondered what the Princess had done or said to be so confident at having no sneaky photographer to be concerned about, he chose to leave it alone.  Besides, he wasn’t<i>that </i>curious in finding out; he’d just take her word for it and leave it at that.<br/><br/>The Prince never considered himself a night owl, and midnight wasn’t all that late.  Still, it’d be wise not to stay up<i>too</i>late.  The only thing worse than attending rugby practice fatigued was attending rugby practice hung over.  Orion had been guilty of both at one time or another.  Far more than he cared to remember.  Or admit to.<br/><br/>On his way down the stairs, he passed a woman from the kitchen staff who was headed in the opposite direction.  No doubt the tray she carried was intended for Cassiopeia.  As a greeting, they nodded at each other while passing.  By aroma alone, Orion knew what the main course was for dinner.  A pasta dish, the unmistakable scent of marinara sauce tickling his nostrils.