Who: Bourne and Ryn Where: The Golden Rose When: Late
"Madam Ryn? It appears a prince is coming."
Ryn looked up from the letter she was reading, a puzzled expression on her face as she studied the servant. It wasn't that she believed she heard him wrong, but for a moment she felt there had to be some hidden message, that he was speaking in code. It was only by his nervous demeanor that she realized he meant it, and she rose at once from her chair. "Which?"
The servant shifted nervously. "Well, it's a bit hard to say, innit?"
Ryn made a noise of disgust and waved her hand in dismissal. It was not, in her opinion, hard to spot the differences between the identical princes, but she could hardly expect everyone to study a person's character the way she did. She moved swiftly but gracefully out of her private chambers and down the stairs, arriving in the front parlor as the prince in question made his way inside. "Your Highness," she greeted, warmly but quietly, to preserve any privacy he may desire. Ryn curtsied low before Bourne - for it was most certainly Bourne, not that Alcott would ever step a toe into a brothel - and smiled brightly. "What a pleasant surprise." And for once, she was surprised. Prince Bourne wasn't a complete stranger to the Golden Rose, but his visits usually were in time with periods of grief, or his wife's pregnancies. To her knowledge, nothing of the sort was a reason now. And she believed she would know if either thing had happened recently. It was her job to know.