“…will have failed to guard their own sister.” Graham smirked appreciatively. “Elegant. I like it.”
“It will also prove that I possess different skills, and a perspective they lack. I do not want to compete with them. I want them to see my talents complement theirs.”
He nodded. “Stronger together. I understand completely. Celebrating talents that other people have devalued is very Wynchestery of you.”
Kuni’s heart gave a traitorous thump. She ignored it.
“Please do not judge Balcovia based on my brothers,” she said quickly. “It truly is…a wonderful country.”
He arched a brow. “I thought you were going to say ‘the best country in the world.’”
“Well, Iwasgoing to say that,” she confessed, “butyouknow that England is the only other country I’ve ever visited.”
“I’m teasing you. I’ve no doubt Balcovia is as marvelous as you say. I’ve never left England. To be perfectly honest, I should love to take a short holiday and see it for myself someday.” His eyes lit up. “Especially if the holiday includes a trip to wherever the royals are staying. I would spend hours staring indiscreetly from too close a distance, imagining what goes on inside.”
“Well…I could explain exactly what happens?”
He leaned forward, his pie forgotten. “Tell me.”
Kuni launched into an explanation of the protocols for the Grand Reception Hall in the palace versus the castle, and the customs in each. He was delighted by the differences in culture.
Yet her words began to feel forced. Was Graham actually interested in her, or Kuni’s connections to royalty? Perhaps he hoped to use her to do some social climbing of his own. Why settle for a Guardswoman, when he could meet a princess like he’d always dreamed about?
22
Graham took a sip of his wine. The burgundy tasted bitter after the berry-and-custard pie, but he needed a moment to collect his thoughts.
His romantic evening—oh, very well, hissunny afternoon—with Kunigunde was going splendidly. She liked the pies, she had answered all his questions about Balcovia…but she seemed a little uncertain. He might be moving too quickly. While she was in Princess Mechtilda’s employ, Kunigunde might not have suitors of her own.
“Are you unused to romantic attentions from interested parties?”
“You are the first gentleman I’ve been alone with, if that is your question. You are not the first aspiring suitor. I managed to hide both of the lords from my brothers, but now that there is a prince who…It doesn’t matter. I will not marry.”
“A prince,” Graham repeated, the wine turning to vinegar in his gut. “A prince wants to marry you.”
“A youngest son,” she said. “Currently eighteenth in line to a throne. He’ll never sit upon it. And his relatives disapprove of the match.” She held up an arm. “Too dark.”
“Buthedoesn’t care about skin color. And if youdidmarry him…” Graham said slowly. “You would be a princess.”
“Ifhis grandfather confers the title upon me. The family wouldn’t be obliged to give me the honor.”
“But you would beeligiblefor the title. Either way, you’d essentially be a princess.”
She inclined her head. “Yes.”
The thought of Kunigunde becoming an actual princess did not thrill Graham as it would have nearly two weeks ago when he’d first met her. He had not merely been introduced to his princess. He had invited her home, prepared her a…romantic snack. But someone else was courting her. Arealprince. With arealcourtship.
“Prince Philbert has not asked for my hand,” she said firmly. “He is just a flirt, that’s all.”
“Does he flirt with other people, or just with you?”
She closed her mouth and stared back at him in silence.
“Just with you,” he said softly. “I see.”
“I know you prize royalty above all. Please do not tell me to jump at my chance to be a princess,” she warned. “I hear it enough from my brothers.”
He had not remotely been about to encourage her to marry this flirty little prince whom Graham suddenly despised. As soon as this meal was over, he was going to set fire to every word of intelligence he had ever gathered about Prince Philbert and his royal family.
