Page 25 of The Heart of the King

He thought about touching it but didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her. “It’s definitely different than anything we’ve had before, but I don’t think it’s an issue. If it were gaudy, maybe, but it’s not.”

“Good.” She rested her hands on his abdomen, inside his suit coat. “I won’t change who I am to fill this role. I’ll adjust when needed. I won’t really show up in ripped jeans, an old t-shirt, and flip-flops with neon hair tomorrow, even if Mrs. Sneedly found a way to cut my hair off. But the reason I wouldn’t do that is because I know it would make life harder foryou. There has to be a way I can retain my individuality and personality while meeting the dress code for an event like this.”

He cupped her shoulders with his hands then let them slide around until he could pull her closer to him. “I agree. There has to be some happy medium.”

She rested her head against his chest. “I told her not to push me, that you and I had already talked about letting me be myself, but she keeps putting me in these hideous dresses that I couldn’t wear if I wanted to. Not unless I want to be on every worst dressed list ever.”

David ran a hand up and down her back. “I’ll reiterate it when she returns, but don’t put up with it. I’ll make sure she knows that, as queen, you have the power to relieve her of her duties if she doesn’t learn how to workwithyou instead of against you.”

“Thank you.”

Part of him wished she’d lift her head and kiss him, but a bigger part relished in the connection he felt with her standing like this. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I hate to do this, but I do need to get back to my office. I’ll talk to Mrs. Sneedly on my way out. If you have any more issues, text Stewart and stand your ground. I’ll make sure Stewart knows what’s going on and will take whatever action’s are necessary if I can’t be disturbed.”

Her hands clenched in his shirt then released. “Thank you, David.”

He stepped back and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Back in his office, he got down to work, but the beautiful brunette with multicolored hair was never far from his mind. He didn’t see her again until he reached their quarters near midnight. The light was off in the room she’d slept in the night before - dozing off not long after their conversation with her parents.

Standing in the doorway, he watched her sleeping for a moment before turning to go to his own room.

“David?” Her sleepy voice drifted to him. “Is that you?”

“I’m right here,” he told her.

“The green dress is perfect. The rest of the day went much better.” Her sleep-addled slur told him she likely wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning.

He smiled softly. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t reply as he walked across the living area toward his bedroom. In twelve hours, give or take, the coronation would begin. He needed sleep.

Maybe someday soon, Jasmine would be sleeping next to him again.

Until then, he’d have to find a way to manage.

9

In truth, Jazz had no idea what to expect from the coronation. She’d spent two-and-a-half hours with the protocol minister the day before, but the man was easily sidetracked.

He’d start to tell her how the day would go then veer off on a rabbit trail about which member of Parliament she should greet first if she came across several of them together in the wild.

He hadn’t said “in the wild” but Jazz knew that’s what he meant.

“Are you sure you want me to help you with this?” Sarah, Mrs. Sneedly’s assistant from the day before, stood behind Jazz with a bobby pin in her hand.

“I’m sure,” Jazz told her with a smile directed toward the mirror. “You’re fully qualified, correct?”

“I am,” Sarah confirmed. “But I’ve only been working for Mrs. Sneedly for a year or so. You’re the queen. Only Mrs. Sneedly’s senior assistants actually work with the queen.”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t care what Mrs. Sneedly says, and if she gives you a hard time about it, please let me know.” Sarah was the only one who seemed to listen to Jazz the day before. She also had neatly-tamed curls. If anyone could do that with Jazz’s hair, it would be a miracle.

Sarah started to tug and pull and put a small braid into Jazz’s hair almost like a headband. As much as she wanted to, Jazz didn’t question what her new stylist or aide was doing.

She’d been working to get her curly hair to behave on a daily basis for years, but the cost of trying dozens of new products always stopped her from getting too creative. At some point, once everything died down a little bit, she should ask David if she had access to any kind of bank accounts. Then she could buy new stuff if the stuff she had didn’t work as well as she thought it should.

That wasn’t what she should be focusing on right now. In two hours, she’d be sworn in or whatever the terminology was for a coronation.

Jazz hoped she wouldn’t have to take an oath of some sort, but she didn’t know.

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