“I told you. I can’t go out looking like this.”
He pushed a button on the intercom by the door. Moments later the door opened, and in came breakfast for two.
“Oh,” Violet said.
“You keep introducing issues that are not issues for me.”
She looked deflated. “Fine. I don’t actually care about my makeup.”
“Then why exactly are you protesting?”
“Because. I want to win. And I figured if you thought I was this ridiculous and unable to function without a full face of makeup, you might send me back.”
“Again. Whether or not you become the next Queen of Monte Blanco is not my decision. So you can go ahead and try to make me believe that you are the silliest creature on planet Earth, but it still won’t change what’s happening.”
He moved the cart closer to her bed. She peered down at the contents. “Is that avocado toast?”
“It is,” he said. “Of course, I’m told that it’s quite trendy the world over. It has always been eaten here.”
“Fascinating,” she said. “I didn’t realize that you were trendsetters.”
He picked up his own plate of breakfast and sat in the chair next to her bed. Then he poured two cups of coffee. Her interest became yet more keen.
“I’m not going to poison you,” he said. “You keep staring at me as if I might.”
She scrabbled to the edge of the bed and reached down, grabbing hold of the plate of avocado toast, bringing it onto the comforter.
Her eyes met his and held. A shift started, somewhere deep in his gut. She didn’t move. Or maybe it only felt like she didn’t. Like the moment hung suspended.
Then her fingers brushed his as she took the cup, color mounting in her face as she settled back in the bed, away from him.
The distance, he found, helped with the tightening in his stomach.
She took a sip and smiled. “Perfect,” she said. “Strong.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I slept about as well as a prisoner in a foreign land can expect to sleep.”
“Good to know.”
“The pea under the mattress was a bit uncomfortable.” A smile tugged the edge of her lips.
She was a strange sort of being, this woman. She had spirit, because God knew in this situation, many other people would have fallen apart completely. But she hadn’t. She was attempting to needle him. To manipulate him. From calling him a Saint Bernard to pretending she was devastated by her bare face.
And now she was drinking coffee like a perfectly contented cat.
“Why don’t you go ahead and say what’s on your mind. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“I will complete your list,” she said. “Down to the dancing lessons. But I want you to show me around the country. Not just the palace.”
“To what end?”
“I’ve been thinking. Your brother wants to bring this country into the modern era. Well. I am the poster child for success in the modern era. And I believe that I can bring some of that to you. I can do it without marrying your brother.”
“As far as I’m concerned it’s not up for negotiation.”
“Fine. We’ll table that. But I want you to give me the tools to make it a negotiation with him.”