There was a clatter as if she'd dumped a bunch of silverware into her dishwasher, and then the thing started with a soft hum and glug.
"It's okay. I've pried into your personal life, haven't I?"
He caught movement from the corner of his eye, as if she was moving around the kitchen now. Wiping down the counters, maybe.
She sighed. "He wanted me to be someone I'm not. His mom didn't like my job, thought I should go to university for something else. I thought he respected what I do, but... he wanted a society wife. And I'm definitely not that."
Her brothers had joked about it during breakfast. Had their quips hurt her feelings? Or was that just normal interplay within a functional family? He’d never questioned whether his mother loved him, but the crown demanded much of her time. There was not a lot of time for teasing or horseplay within the royal family.
So what if she didn't want to give up her job to meet the expectations of some jerk's mother? That made her independent. From what he'd gathered, she was helping fund her brothers' tuition. If she'd given up her matchmaking gig, who would've helped them?
"I'll get back out there eventually," she said. "I've just been... busy."
The truth or an excuse? He didn't know.
At least she was courageous enough to try again. Not like him. He was determined to stay out of the game. He'd agreed to give her four dates, but he didn't plan on falling in love.
No thanks.
She appeared in his field of vision, looking down at him. Time to go?
"Do you need me to leave?” he asked. “I can call Conrad." He made the offer but it was halfhearted.
"You can stay, your orneriness. How are you feeling?"
"Like I want to lie on your floor forever."
She frowned as she bent to touch his temple with the back of her wrist. "At least your fever hasn't come back."
And then she surprised him by lying down on the couch beside him, also looking up at the ceiling. He supposed there wasn't enough floorspace for them both down here.
Although it might've been cozy to try.
She was only silent for a few seconds. "I don't think you'd really be content to hide here for longer than a day. I'm quite a boring person, even with my job bossing people around."
He smiled. He'd been proud of that crack earlier, and her brothers had found it hilarious.
"I like your brothers," he said. "It's obvious they adore you."
"They adore free meals once a week." But he heard the affection in her voice.
"Do you want to know my most vivid memory of my brother? Not this last mess," he hastily clarified.
She murmured a soft assent.
"I had my fourteenth birthday party. I thought I'd grown past kiddie parties, but Max insisted we let the castle staff put on an event on the castle grounds and invite our friends from school. I was convinced no one would come. I had a hard time making friends in school." He hadn’t intended to share that part. "About twenty kids came. A mix of kids from my class and Max's. We played cricket and ate cake until our stomachs ached."
"It sounds like fun," she said softly.
"It was. All the way until the party was breaking up and I discovered my brother handing hundred dollar bills to each guest. He'd paid everyone to come."
Mother had been furious. For a while, Max had insisted he'd done it as a way to help his brother. But after he was pushed, Max had admitted—
"He thought of me as dull, and he'd wanted a chance to punish me for being... I think he put it 'perfectly boring'."
Her arm slipped off the edge of the couch. He didn't think anything of it until her hand clasped his on the floor.
She didn't say anything as he let himself relive the humiliation of that day. Not only the embarrassment in front of the people he'd hoped were his friends, but how devastated he'd been to discover what Max really thought of him. He and his brother had been the best of friends as small children and throughout grade school. They'd never recovered from that one event.
