Page 38 of Crown of Thorns
“Aye.”
“How come you can speak to me like we’re in private, but I can’t speak to you the same?” I ask and then hold my breath hoping that the answer doesn’t come with more humiliation.
“Because I am king, hen,” he replies honestly. “You need to learn to respect me always, even if you’re not feeling so at the moment. It’s for your safety.”
“How so?”
“Because it’s treason to speak to me so and in certain circles, I can’t protect you if you do so publicly,” he answers honestly and I kind of wish he’d said told me that earlier.
“I don’t think I want to be in those circles,” I say quietly.
“Aye, I understand that and honestly, I wish we didn’t have to be in them but it’s the nature of our world.”
“Your world,” I correct.
“Nay,” he says gently. “You forget that you were born a princess, you just weren’t raised as such, and that was also for your protection.”
I let out a sigh and keep my mouth closed because honestly, he’s not wrong and it does me no good to deny the truth, even if I want to.
“I see you’re learning,” he smirks.
“I think I would have appreciated the lesson more if you’d just told me,” I say as sassily as I’m willing to be in front of his secretary and my protection officer.
“Perhaps,” he says. “But I do no’ think you were in a mind to listen. And besides, I find that I thoroughly enjoy teaching you.”
“I just bet you do,” I mutter to myself, but he still hears me.
“Aye.”
I take a deep breath in and roll my shoulders back to give myself a little confidence as I go forward. “So, before our current debate started…”
“Aye.”
“I was going to repeat my earlier question… what all goes into a garden party and a royal wedding?”
Chuckles fill the room.
“You’re learning,” Rhys says before looking at Craig.
“To answer your original question… a lot,” Craig says. “But nothing more than we can handle. We have to meet with the archbishop, and secure Saint Peter’s Abbey. Obviously, the reception will be here at the castle, in one of the ballrooms.”
“Obviously,” I whisper earning a patient smile.
“We’ll need to arrange a consultation and fitting with a designer for you,” he says. “Is there a designer you prefer?”
“For fashion?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.
“Aye.”
“Umm… that would be a no. Maybe we ask Maeve?”
“I think she’d like that,” Rhys says.
“Once your dresses are secured, we can select tiaras—” Craig continues until Rhys interrupts him.
“I want her in the queen’s suite, not the lower ranking royal tiaras,” he says. “Definitely something that accommodates my mother’s emeralds like the Tsarina crown. She’s to be queen.”
“Yes, your majesty. Her uncle may want her in a family tiara,” he says.
