Page 18 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘Clarke, then. You understand formality in this house?’

‘Er, yes?’

‘Can you be spared?’ Prince Vaji turned to look at Anna. ‘Or should another serve us?’

‘Oh!’ Anna finally understood. ‘You need new servants, not rough sailors who no doubt have other tasks. Yes, Clarke, do you think you could serve as a royal valet for now?’

It would be quite a promotion, assuming he could get past the awkward situation.

Clarke finally caught on. He bowed deeply before the prince, which would have looked very handsome if he weren’t still carrying an armful of rags. ‘It would be my honour, your Royal Highness.’

Prince Vaji grinned, his eyes sparkling with humour. Apparently, the monk had an enjoyment of the ridiculous.

‘Good. Good. There are details, Clarke, on the morning food. Very particular.’ Then he shrugged apologetically at Anna. ‘The abbot is very particular.’

‘Oh.’ Anna sighed. Something else she would have to handle. ‘Of course.’ She sighed, already getting a headache. And to think she’d been planning on a quiet evening tonight. ‘Clarke, would you mind getting all the particulars? You can relay them to me and Cook tonight. She’s getting dinner ready now.’ She looked to the prince. ‘I do hope you enjoy simple English fare.’ She had not planned for a state dinner tonight.

The prince looked awkward. ‘Clarke, please explain—apologies and thanks. Monks do not eat after the sun is at zenith.’

‘Zenith?’ The monk knew the word zenith? ‘You mean noon?’

‘Noon? When the sun is at the top?’

‘Yes. So you don’t eat after noon.’

‘The monks do not—’

He was interrupted by a loud clearing of throat. Unknown to any of them, the abbot had stepped out of the parlour. He stood there like an angry school teacher, his brows drawn down in annoyance.

The prince immediately turned his body so he was obviously speaking to Clarke and not to her.

‘We do not eat after noon.’

‘Will Prince Deva dine with us?’ Anna whispered.

‘Prince Deva eats everything. The more food the better. Stranger. English! Prince Deva loves English food.’ Then he leaned forwards, his words clear. ‘Then save what is not eaten. Save to give as alms in the morning.’

Alms? Wasn’t that a kind of offering? A coin of some sort?

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said, only to have her words interrupted again by another throat clearing by the abbot. Was she not allowed to speak at all? Of all the ridiculous—

‘Alms. I will explain to Clarke,’ the prince said, rushing his words. Then he glanced back at the abbot. ‘One more thing, Clarke,’ he said, clearly projecting the words to his superior. He turned back to the servant. ‘One more thing about the books.’ He glanced significantly at Anna.

But at that, Anna reached her limit. Her parents had now come out of the parlour and were both frowning at her, no doubt embarrassed by her dirty gown. Damn it, she’d tried to rush through so no one would see her!

‘Monk Prince Vaji,’ she began but he grimaced at her words and clearly turned his shoulder to her. She wasn’t supposed to speak to him because she was female.

Of all the ridiculous things!

‘Clarke,’ she said, her tone hard. ‘You may inform the prince that whereas we will do everything possible to allow for his religious needs regarding food, he has no business with my books.’ She arched a brow at Clarke, as if the poor man had anything to do with her annoyance.

‘Er, yes, my lady.’

‘Thank you—’

Again she was interrupted, this time by chanting. A loud, somewhat melodic male voice chanting in Siamese. It was the abbot and if anyone could look angry while singing, it was him.

Wincing, the prince turned and responded. His voice was much better—a handsome baritone. He sang back not quite so loudly but still just as clearly.