"Your Highness."
I looked up to find Thomas, my personal secretary, hovering at the stall entrance with the expression that meant he was about to deliver news I wouldn't enjoy.
"What is it?"
"The kitchen staff would like a word, sir.There's been some confusion about the Princess's dietary requirements."
Of course there had been."What kind of confusion?"
"Well, sir, when asked about food allergies or preferences, Her Highness said, and I quote, 'I can eat anything that won't kill me, but I draw the line at anything that looks like it's still judging me.'"
I closed my eyes and counted to five.A smile was threatening to break through, and smiling at my wife's antics would only encourage her.
"And Chef Marcello's response?"
"He's not entirely sure what foods qualify as judgmental, Your Highness.He's requested clarification before planning tonight's menu."
"Tell Chef Marcello that the Princess was joking.She has no dietary restrictions."
"Very good, sir."Thomas paused in the way that meant there was more."There's also been some discussion among the staff about Her Highness's wardrobe situation."
"The luggage incident is being investigated.New clothes are being arranged."
"Of course, sir.It's just that when Carmela offered to coordinate with Queen Isabelle's guest wardrobe, Her Highness said she'd rather wear a potato sack than borrow clothes from someone who clearly thinks she's not good enough to breathe the same air."
This time I couldn't suppress the smile.Betty wasn't wrong about my mother's opinion, but saying it out loud to the staff was going to cause complications.
"I'll speak with the Princess about diplomatic phrasing."
"Actually, sir, the staff rather appreciated her directness.Carmela said it was refreshing to work with someone who says what they mean."
That caught me off guard.Palace staff were trained to be diplomatically neutral about the royal family.The fact that they were openly admiring Betty's bluntness suggested she was winning people over despite her lack of polish.
Or perhaps because of it.
"Anything else?"
"Just one more thing, sir.Her Highness has requested access to the palace library.She'd like to read about Solmarian history and culture."
"She did?"
"Yes, sir.She specifically asked for books about our government structure, economic relationships with neighboring countries, and, I believe she said, 'how not to accidentally start a diplomatic incident by existing wrong.'"
The fact that she was trying to learn, trying to understand this world she'd been thrust into, made something warm settle in my chest.It would have been easy for her to spend these months sulking in her rooms, counting down the days until she could leave.Instead, she was doing research.
"Grant her access to any materials she requests."
After Thomas left, I stayed with Azzurra for another hour, brushing her coat and checking her water and trying not to think about the fact that Betty was somewhere in the palace right now, probably surrounded by books, probably looking adorably serious as she took notes on Solmarian trade policy.
I was failing spectacularly at not thinking about her.
Around mid-morning, I headed back toward the palace and caught sight of Betty through one of the library windows.She was sitting at the massive oak table, surrounded by books, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, wearing one of the few dresses that had survived the luggage disaster.
She was completely absorbed in whatever she was reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, occasionally writing something in a notebook.For a moment, I just stood there watching her, struck by how different she looked from the sarcastic woman who'd sparred with me over dinner last night.
Then she looked up and caught me watching her through the window.
Instead of the hostile expression I'd grown accustomed to over the past week, she gave me a small wave that seemed almost friendly.
