You were a princess. You had a duke, James Phelps. He didn't speak to you often, but he loved you, he silently admired you, afraid that your father, the king, would punish him, knowing that he was brave but a little shy.

You loved mushrooms; you picked them every time you went outside with a guard, a duke, or your parents.

It was another game today where you could pick mushrooms, and you brought your duke, James Phelps, with you.

"What's your favorite flower?"

James asked you, standing in front of you.

"Mushrooms!"

You said excitedly, and James pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

"Ahem... mushrooms...?"

James asked you, trying to see if he heard right.

"Yes..."

You said, frowning, and then finally James burst into laughter. He's not making fun of you, he thinks you're cute. You said your favorite flower was a mushroom, but it's actually a fungus.