Rose was not even surprised when, moments later, her room was invaded by the Crown Prince. She jerked under the covers at his interruption and slowly turned to look at him. He wore a deep frown and a serious expression as he barged into her room as though he owned the place, ironically, he did.

"Your Majesty," Rose called, faking her surprise as she slowly moved to a sitting position while pretending to be slowly getting out of bed, half expecting Caius to stop her.

He didn't.

Rose internally swore as she had to completely get out of bed to curtsy to him while he slowly approached her. She acted as though it was slightly difficult to stand, but Rose didn't overdo it; she knew Caius would notice the slightest change.

"Thomas says you are ill," he said as he stopped right in front of her.

Rose lifted her head and looked at him in feigned shock, mentally thanking Thomas for playing his role so beautifully. She shook her head a little. "I don't think so. I do feel a little tired, but I don't think I am ill," she said, ending the sentence with a little sniff.

Rose thought that perhaps it was time she worked at the theater, given the spectacular performance she was putting on.

Caius narrowed his eyes, then he smiled. He closed the gap between them and lifted her face with his hand until her head was tilted back as far as it could go. Caius scrutinized every inch of her face leaving Rose no choice but to look right at him.

Caius turned her face to the left and right. "You're right," he said as he let go of her face. "You don't look sick. Come with me." He turned away from her, heading towards the door.

Rose felt horror drip down her back. She had to do something. There was no point in pretending to be sick if she still had to spend the day in his presence.

"Please forgive me, Your Majesty, but I'd like to rest up, just for a little while," she pleaded.

Caius stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at her. He narrowed his eyes as he stared her up and down. "Very well," he said.

It took everything in Rose not to act too relieved. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said with her head bent low to hide her smile. She wasn't sure how long the Crown Prince would let her rest, but she was willing to take it.

Caius took a step towards her again. "Are you sure you aren't ill?" he asked with a serious expression.

"No, Your Majesty. I just need to rest a little."

Rose knew it would be a grave mistake to admit to anyone that she felt ill. With the resources the Crown Prince had, a physician would be called to check on her immediately, and there was no way she could lie to a physician; he would be able to tell in one glance she was faking it. Rose needed to be able to fake her illness while avoiding the need to call a physician.

"You should feel better by lunch then."

Rose winced at his statement. It wasn't a question. He was telling her that he was giving her until lunch. "I believe so, Your Majesty." Rose sounded confident as she gave the Crown Prince a grateful smile.

He turned around as though to leave, but Rose called out to him. "Your Majesty."

He turned only his head backwards, stopping slightly.

"I wanted to ask about the letter," she whispered. "Has it been sent?"

Caius narrowed his eyes once again and turned around fully. "Do you not believe my words?"

Given your past deeds, I think not.

"No, Your Majesty. I just would like to know so I can gauge how long it would take to get a response from my father," she whispered.

Rose had not directly asked Caius if she could receive a response from her father, and frankly, she didn't think she needed to ask him, but she kept using other indirect means to make sure he was aware that she wanted a response.

Caius had not directly or indirectly refused her demand; however, a lack of response from him felt almost the same thing. She was, therefore, using this method to confirm.

"I do not think that when he receives the letter matters. If your father doesn't send a letter, whether or not he receives yours is not the direct cause of why you may receive no response."

Rose did her best not to show any outward reaction. She knew what the Crown Prince was saying. He was saying she might not get a response, and that would be her father's fault, not that the letter had failed to arrive; as if her father wanted to send a letter, he would, whether or not he received hers.

"He promised to send a reply," Rose said in response. "Fat'er keeps his promises." She had said the words intentionally, an attempt to call out Caius for the night before.

Caius raised a brow at her statement. "Is that so? Well, I guess we'll wait and see. As for your question, the letter was sent exactly when I asked it to be."

Rose suddenly felt uncomfortable. She didn't like Caius's insinuation that she might not get a reply, and she was starting to worry that might be the case—not because her father wouldn't reply, but because Caius might do something to prevent her from getting the letter, and this was on the chance that her father would even get her letter in the first place.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said instead of voicing her fears. She couldn't exactly tell the Crown Prince she doubted him.

"Focus on getting better. You are of no use to me ill," Caius said and turned away for the last time. Rose watched him leave the room before she returned to the bed.

His last words made her a little happy. As long as she was ill, he would not bother her. Rose pulled the covers over her shoulders; though she felt a little warm under them, she had to play her part right. As she lay in bed, Rose's mind ran rampant as she sought ways to prolong her fake illness.

Unfortunately, noon quickly arrived, but Rose had such a swell time without the Crown Prince that she was pretty determined to keep it that way. She knew she couldn't have her way for long, but she intended to drag it out as long as she could.

Not long after noon, Rose heard a soft knock. A knock meant it wasn't the Crown Prince. She turned to face the door but didn't get out of bed. The door slowly opened, and the maids tiptoed in as though they didn't want to wake her up.

"Lady Rose," they both said simultaneously when they saw she was awake.

"How do you feel?" one of them asked and rushed forward.

"A little better," Rose said and moved herself to a sitting position, a handkerchief in one hand which she used to wipe her nose as usual.

"We do not mean to bother you, but it is time for lunch," the young ladies announced.

"Thank you for letting me know," Rose said, speaking with enough weakness for the maids to give her a worried look.

"You're welcome, Lady Rose," the maids said in unison.

Rose suddenly had a hesitant look on her face. She squeezed the covers as though what she was about to say was difficult, and she slowly lifted her head to look at them. "Would it be too much to request to have my lunch in my room?"

The maids looked at each other and then back at Rose. They seemed uncertain, and then they bowed and said, "We will ask the butler."

"Thank you," Rose replied, looking relieved—partly an act, partly genuine.

The maids curtsied and left the room, leaving Rose alone. They returned a few moments later to tell her the butler had agreed and they would be back with her lunch.

Rose did her best not to give herself away. She didn't look too excited; she simply nodded her head and thanked them before they left. They returned not long with her meal and a pot of tea for her. Rose took her time getting out of bed to sit at the table. After the meals were served and she assured them she needed nothing else, they curtsied once again and left her.

The food smelled delicious, but more importantly, she was alone. Rose dug in, eating slowly. The second part of her plan was about to get into motion, and this part was the most crucial.

She was precise about the amount of food she ate, making sure not to eat too much. After a while, she stopped eating and almost felt sorry for the maids for what she was about to do. Unfortunately, the prize was enough for her to still go through with it, regardless of the mess she was about to make.