Page 22 of Tall, Royal and Grumpy

U told me last night u were giving up on him so what changed?

Mariyah

Esmeralda!!

Mariyah

Don’t drop some random shit on me early in the morning without DETAILSSS!!

Mariyah

BITCH ANSWER ME!!

* * *

I had woken up this morning feeling ecstatic after my blissful two hours of sleep post spending three hours talking to Kai in the palace kitchen.

Now all that happiness was dead. Gone. Finished. Annihilated. Ruined.

It was lost in the anxiety, panic, and worry as I watched the other crown princes, princesses, and royals present their environmental strategy plans on the stage in the big auditorium, filled with thousands of people for the morning session of the conference.

Touma, Shah, Prio, Khaas had had brilliant plans, taking a human-animal-welfare central approach for their one, five, and ten-year strategies.

I hadn’t taken the same approach.

I had worked on a more economic strategy and suddenly, all those months, days, and hours I'd spent working with Kareem, top economic advisers, the Imperial Cabinet ministers, and Regional Councils all felt pointless.

Pathetic. Not good enough. Rather than perfect, my presentation felt heartless, and that mean voice in my head just kept getting louder and louder and meaner. And sounding evermore like Kareem.

I had no doubt my brother was seething in his chair after seeing the other, better strategies. He would never let me take on such a big task again. He would isolate me even more. I would never be perfect in his eyes. Never good enough. Never to be praised by him. Never loved by him.

He would expose me. He’d get rid of me. A fake. A fraud. I would have nothing left.

I flicked nervously at my nails in the seat behind Kareem in one of the seven groups of chairs at the front of the auditorium. In each group, the other active royals of all the states were sitting among their families and imperial ministers.

I glanced anxiously between Raven’s middle-aged Crown Princess, wrapping up her presentation, and the back of Kareem’s head. It was my turn next.

A heavy hand pressed down on my rapidly bouncing knee under the full-length skirt of my dark blue dress. I nearly jumped out of my seat as it frightened me out of my head.

On my left, Shehryar’s pale green eyes were filled with concern, a folder with my presentation slides and script in it resting on his lap. He squeezed my entire knee in his bear-sized palm. “Breathe,” he whispered.

The breath I was holding in gushed out and then flooded right back in.

He smiled and nodded softly. “Once more.”

I did. In then out. Once more. Replacing the tension in my muscles with feigned composure. Because I was a princess. I couldn’t and wouldn’t have a meltdown in front of everyone, especially with all the media reporters lining the walls and front of the stage.

“We’ve practised so many times. We’ve triple checked all the statistics too. You are prepared.”

I lifted my mouth in a wobbly smile. “Everyone else’s presentations are better.”

Shehryar dipped his head, looking right at me. “Yours is just as good.”

I couldn’t stop shaking my head. “But it’s all just economic policy.”

“Which the advisers supported and recommended, and the ministers all approved of too.”

The urge to argue otherwise was still there but I kept my lips pressed together, holding in the flood of words that wanted to convince Shehryar I wasn’t good enough.

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