“The flowers on your nightstand are his doing as well,” she added. “They match this dress.”
“Flowers?” I asked.
I turned and glared distastefully at a vase of daisies that had rudely manifested at some point, a blatant intrusion on my ability to process his hands all over another woman’s fruit.
“When did those arrive?” I asked.
“Oh, very early, miss. You were still asleep.”
“Asleep?”
She quirked a knowing brow, and I felt my whole existence tense. We sat in an awkward silence as I tried to access the memory of if I’d noticed them when I’d come in.
She said, “Don’t worry, my lady,” as she checked the evenness of my complexion in the glass. “You were in bed by ten and in your room all night. I remember. I did my best not to rouse you when I delivered them this morning, and no one was with me.”
I didn't do anything until she overtly nodded to encourage me to do the same.
“Right?” she asked.
“…Right,” I said.
“Good. Let’s get you on your way, Your Highness.”
Sameer stood as soon as I entered the parlor. He was on the deck that was connected to it. His chair scratched across the stone floor, then nearly fell with how quickly he rose to make his greeting. Two glass paneled doors were pinned open on either side; they framed him beautifully.
“Princess,” he said.
With one hand, he motioned to the opposing seat. I wasn’t sure if the table was originally in its location or if the Prince haddraggedit outside from somewhere in the room in an attempt of gross flattery.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said softer.
I didn’t respond except to glance at the offered chair.
He cleared his throat. “Please. Join me,” he said.
“What are you apologizing for?” I asked. I wanted to hear him say it.
“I… I mean to apologize for last night’s indiscretion.”
“Indiscretion?”I asked. He was mental,I thought.
“Please.” Sam presented the seat again. I sat. He did as well. “First, I am moved that you have accepted my invitation this morning.”
“Was there an option not to?” I asked. “Miss Jocelyn didn’t tell me that.”
I reeled back as one of his footmen was beside me to hand over a glass of juice.
Sam laid a long napkin over his lap, unbothered. He whispered instructions to his staff as they fluttered around. Then he said, “I realize that things may not be what you expected them to be,” and I laughed.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize that wasn’t a joke.”
“...Or perhaps what you wanted,” he added.
He thanked a few servants for our meal and quickly dismissed them, and then we were alone.
“The truth is,” he said, but nothing else came with it.
A bell rang somewhere, and the random starts of everyone’s days in a busy palace sang below us. The balcony overlooked the heart of Rothingham, and I was confused at how exposed we were. I did nothing but look at my plate; it was toast and anapple.On his, he had bacon—an entire mound of it. Then, I was upset that I was offended by food.
