Page 11 of The Rejected King
The king’s brow twitched as if something had interested him.
“That’s correct.” Emree was proud of how hard she had studied. Most girls in the working class never had the opportunity to receive extended education, but Yvonne Kemp had recognized her love for learning and had made sure she could continue studying. It took Emree two years to complete her extended education when most people took three or four. She didn’t like to brag—okay, maybe she did a little bit—but education and learning had always come easy to her.
Queen Arillia held up Emree’s resume. “I see that you also volunteered on Fennish Kemp’s election campaign.”
Emree glanced at the king, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. His face still held the same unreadable expression, making her swear to herself that she would never look at him again the rest of the interview. She flicked her gaze back to the queen mother. “Yes. I’m very proud of the work I did for High Ruler Kemp. I took his approval rating from twenty-three percent to forty-five percent in the four short months I worked on his campaign. Clearly, King Davin had the other fifty-five percent and snagged the victory. But I believe High Ruler Kemp still benefits from his boost in approval ratings.”
“You did that?” the king questioned, dragging her focus back to him. So much for never looking at him again.
Emree raised her chin. “Yes.”
“And how did you accomplish it?” he asked. His elbow rested against the side of the chair, and his face held a serious look—a look that he never gave her at the Morreck Inn.
Emree smoothed the side of her hair. “I started with a few city meetings, small events where the High Ruler could really be himself among the people. From there, we organized bigger events, charities where Fennish...er...High Ruler Kemp could give back to the community. I also organized weekly news briefings with each province newswriter that included fun facts about the High Ruler as well as policies and agendas that were important to him.”
The king dipped his chin down, narrowing his gaze on her. “Is that what you would do for me?”
Emree’s throat went dry under his stare. She licked her lips, trying to gain back her composure. “I think it is important for the people of Enderlin to get to know their king more intimately.”
As soon as she said the word, she regretted it.
King Davin’s eyebrow went up. “I agree completely. Intimacy can be a very good thing.”
Emree coughed.
“Well,” Queen Arillia said, clasping her hands together in her lap. “I am certainly impressed with your work ethic, but the truth is, we have already filled the—”
“Not so fast,” the king said, interrupting. “I have a few more questions I’d like to ask Miss Dutson.”
The queen mother shot a questioning look at her son.
Emree swallowed, trying to relieve the ache in her stomach.
King Davin’s brown eyes—the exact shade of his light brown hair—closed in on her. “Miss Dutson, you traveled a long way from the province of Kenmare to get here. I trust you had an uneventful journey?”
She set her jaw. “Yes.”
“So, nothing memorable or exciting happened to you on the way?” He was challenging her.
Emree stiffened. Was his plan to humiliate her and then send her on her way? Well, Emree wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She wasn’t going to get the job anyway—Queen Arillia was about to tell her as much—so what did her responses matter now?
“No.” She pursed her lips together. “Nothing remarkable at all.”
“Nothing?”
She glared at him. “Nothing worth remembering, Your Majesty.”
“Are you sure,” he pressed.
Emree leaned forward. “Actually, there was one event that I’ll never forget.”
His eyebrow raised even higher. “Do tell.”
“I saw a cow.”
“A cow?” the queen mother asked incredulously, looking back at King Davin.
Emree didn’t break her gaze. “It was a really big cow.”
