After turning the light off and locking the door, they went back out the way they came and went straight to their cottage.
With the door closed behind them, she headed straight for the bedroom to change.
Right before she went into the other room, she turned and looked his direction, but not straight at him. "I know we're still getting to know each other, but whenever you want to sleep in here, you can." She hurried into the room without looking back at him again.
Whatever he might have thought he'd expected from her text, he didn't expect a hideaway.
And he really didn't expect her to invite him to sleep in the same room.
But it wasn't the right time.
Not yet.
Soon.
13
The spotlight would be on her all day. Catherine didn't like being the center of attention in this way, but she had no choice. The people expected a coronation, so a coronation they'd have.
She wore a plain, white, shapeless dress that would be covered by ceremonial robes just before leaving for the procession to the Cathedral.
They'd rehearsed the coronation as much as they could, but much of it was simply instructions. Tradition said they couldn't actually practice the investiture or consecration. Fortunately, those in charge of making sure she ended up where she was supposed to had been on hand for her mother's coronation as well. They hadn't been in charge, but had been a part of it.
One of the biggest things she didn't care for was how she'd been alone for over twenty-four hours already and would only have minimal interactions with anyone until the ceremony itself, and nothing of a remotely personal nature until after the return to the palace. She would see Jacob, speak with him briefly but only for ceremonial reasons. Same with the rest of her family.
She would have help with the robes, but they wouldn't speak to her.
Catherine didn't understand the rationale. It was supposedly so she could spend the entire time focused on the monumental responsibility she was taking on, and on her faith, and where her help would ultimately come from. Talking to her would apparently interrupt her communion with the Creator.
She'd grumbled about it to her father a couple of days earlier. He'd empathized but pointed out she had a choice in the matter. There was no legal requirement for her to spend the time alone.
But she hadn't had a choice, not really. The people expected her to adhere to the same customs as her ancestors before her.
So, she'd done it.
As much as she liked spending time alone, as much as she believed herself to be an introvert, it had been disconcerting as well. Maybe she wasn't as introverted as she believed.
Or maybe it was that she had no choice in the matter.
If she'd spent time alone like that because she wanted to, that would be different than because she felt she had to.
The door to the chamber where she'd spent the time alone opened. A footman held the door and bowed as she passed him.
The corridors to the throne room where she'd receive the robes were lined with staff members in their finest uniforms, likely brand new and freshly starched. They all bowed or curtsied as she passed. The gauntlet of sorts also meant she couldn't get lost and wander away from where she was supposed to be going.
Two more footmen waited at the side doors to the throne room. They opened the doors as she reached them.
The line of staff members had ended but she'd been told repeatedly where to go.
Catherine stopped in front of the Monarch's Seat and turnedninety degrees to the right with military precision. She stared at the primary doors, now in front of her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see people approaching.
Her youngest two full siblings placed a belt of sorts around her waist and fastened it. Her father and eldest two siblings together placed the robe around her shoulders, hooking the button in the front.
The Prime Minister stopped directly in front of her, bowed deeply, then handed her the antique scepter. The most senior member of the Council did the same but handed her a rapier.
No one said a word.
