Page 23 of Crown of Hearts
I bit my tongue to refrain from defending Cai.
“Yes,” Lance continued. “The charismatic prince and the rogue bandit. What a lovely couple you’ll make.”
I took the last sip of my tea and placed the cup on the tray. “Well, as much as I enjoy your company, you’ll have to excuse me. I have a kingdom to save.”
“Oh no, you’re already starting to sound like him.”
Chapter 6
Cai
How did I get myself into this?
I escorted Lady Meredette outside while making a mental note to extract some sort of revenge on Thatcher for placing me in this position.
Meredette was the complete opposite of Elara.
It probably wasn’t fair of me to compare them. I walked alongside her through the palace gardens. Meredette had eyes of coal and a long, sharp nose above full red lips. She was tall too, her height almost reaching my own. I watched her mouth curve up into a smile.
Our conversation thus far had been rather strained. Thatcher hadn’t told me about the visit until the last moment. He knew I would find some sort of excuse if I’d found out about it in advance. I’d merely been informed that I had a meeting with one of the nobles regarding an urgent matter. It was only as Lady Meredette’s carriage rounded the gravel path in front of the palace entrance that Thatcher appeared alongside me with a wicked grin. I was certain he now stood somewhere by a window, enjoying my discomfort with that same grin.
“You certainly have gardens that can be boasted about, Your Majesty,” she offered, trying to make conversation, but it felt formal, forced. The truth was we probably didn’t have anything in common other than being born into rich families. I missed the way Lara always spoke her mind. She didn’t care for things like propriety or worry about offending me. Most of the time, she was brutally honest. But she was real.
“Well, if there is to be boasting, it definitely won’t be me doing it.”
She looked at me from under long lashes. “No? How so?”
“I can take credit for spending a lot of time outdoors, but I definitely can’t take any credit for the state of the gardens. My mother manages them,” I explained.
I had placed my arms behind my back in the gentlemanly fashion I was used to. But this did not keep Meredette from hooking her arm into mine as we continued our stroll, my arm now bent in an uncomfortable manner. And yet, changing my posture would give offence. We weren’t alone, of course, my guards trailing closely behind, just far enough for them to pretend they couldn’t hear our conversation.
“Do you like to be outside?” I attempted to continue the overly polite exchange. I didn’t have the time or capacity for courting. Not that I could stay mad at Thatcher for this either. He was only trying to help as he saw fit. He was trying to be a good friend.
“Good heavens, no. In the winter, it’s much too cold to go outside. And the Norrandish summers have too many insects.”
I couldn’t argue. The summers here could not only become uncomfortably hot but were accompanied by the annoyance of flying insects, especially around bodies of water, of which Norrandale had plenty.
“I prefer to be inside painting if I’m not on social calls.”
“You have an interest in art?”
“Very much so,” Lady Meredette replied with sincerity.
“Well, you know the palace has a lovely art gallery should you ever wish to visit it.”
“A garden, an art gallery — what do you lack, Your Majesty?” Her smile was flirtatious.
“Oh, I lack plenty, to be certain.”
She chuckled. I hadn’t meant to flirt back. I was just trying to be... nice.
“I heard rumours that you were planning to host a ball soon.” Which could only be attributed to Thatcher. Damn him.Her eyes gleamed with hopefulness. Was she entertaining the idea that she would receive an invite from the King himself?
“And do you always believe everything you hear?” I replied, trying to dodge the question.
Her face fell.
“You’re not hosting a ball, then?”
