He pushed Iona's hand away when he was sure the dress was secure.
Iona uttered a muffled cry as her body was forced to take a step back.
"What are you doing, you fool? What is it to you?" she cried, holding her sore fingers.
Malcolm moved quickly. "Shut up, Iona," he said, covering her mouth with his palm to force her to stop talking.
"Excuse me, Your Highness," Malcolm said dutifully. "Just children. Messing about everything." He continued releasing Iona's mouth, and he failed to laugh. It sounded more like croaking.
Skye remained frozen in place, not daring to look. Had she heard right? Just her uncle said, 'Your Highness'? Had she just been defended by the king himself? Although the voice she had heard was better suited to a younger man.
«Iona, Fiona, I am honored to introduce you
