Everyone finally leaves us with a plan set in place that everyone seems content with… except for me. There’s no good way to just say “I don’t want to be the Queen” though, especially when you’ve been fully aware that your mate is the prince and you willingly let him mark you.
I sigh deeply and begin to gather the dishes off the table, taking them across the hall into the kitchen where Anna and the chef we had met earlier are seated talking. They both rise quickly as I enter and bow.
“Princess, I can take those,” Anna says, walking over, but I shake my head at her.
“Thanks, but I want to,” I say, placing them in the sink and beginning to wash them.
The chef walks over to me and opens a dishwasher. “Here, let me help you,” he says, trying to take one from me but I don’t let go an
