Woo is Me, by Dayna Plehn

“A love potion has begun to spread!” said the disembodied voice. “What will happen? Will you be wooed or wooing?”

“Obviously,” Draven answered, looking at her fingernails absently. “I would be the one doing the wooing. I already do that as it is. It’s quite an amusing little game, you know, sitting back and watching everyone fall over you.
 

“That’s not very romantic,” the disembodied voice muttered.

“Furthermore,” Draven continued as if the voice had not spoken, “I would locate the alchemist that created such an elixir and reward him for his ingenuity. Good alchemists are so very hard to find these days; I might even hire him or her myself.” She tossed her silky white hair and smiled. “Or woo him into working for free.”

The disembodied voice sighed and floated away (or did whatever disembodied voices do when they travel). There was nothing less romantic than a royal sociopath.