I purse my lips, considering Margot’s offer to answer the inner door to the Royal passages of the palace long enough that she jumps out of her seat, turning towards it.
“Oh, sit down!” I scold, laughing as I get up myself and give her a mock little shove back towards the chaise. Margot grins as she takes her seat again, gathering up the pornography into a single stack as I hurry towards the door, knowing that it must be answered – and that it must be me that answers it.
As I pull the door open, I sweep into a curtsey before my intended husband, masterfully managing not to spill my red wine as I do. “My King,” I murmur.
“My Queen,” he says, and when I straighten up I’m pleased to see him smiling down at me – in a good mood, apparently. “It is good to see you in high spirits.”
“Please, c
