“What?” I ask her.
“Not to be too bothersome, but should I have a notepad?”
“Do you want a notepad?”
“It might be nice to be able to write things down.”
Growling under my breath, I stand from my chair and open the door. “Notepad and pen.”
Within seconds, Lara is bringing several pens and pads of paper into the room. Brimar follows with water and cookies—an added touch that will hopefully get Lilly to be quiet so we can start our training.
Once they leave, I cross one leg over the other and ask, “Anything else?”
She picks up a cookie and takes a nibble. “No, this is quite nice. Thank you.” She smirks and then nudges my leg with her foot. “Lighten up, this will be torture if you don’t.”
It already is.
“There are five main categories we’ll be going over.” Her eyes widen, and I hold up one finger, counting them off. “Appearance—”
“What’s wrong with my appearance?”
“There’s a certain standard that must be upheld when you’re in the public eye.”
She kicks up a foot on the console table. “Ah, so, no loungewear, I presume?” I flick her foot off and it plops to the floor.
“No. Then there is etiquette—”
“Ooo, is that when I drink with my pinky out?”
“Can you refrain from commentary while I get through these?”
She leans both arms on the table and props her chin up with her hand. “I can sense irritation, and I’m going to tell you right now, that’s not going to work for me. Why don’t we try a kind voice? It will make this easier.”
“Well, don’t irritate me and I will use a kind voice.”
“When have you ever used a kind voice?”
“How about when I bandaged your head? Or when I was telling you about your aunt and uncles, or how about—”
“Okay . . . settle down. I can see you’re getting yourself worked up. Let’s try a different question. How do I irritate you?”
Is she really that obtuse? Can she not see that I can barely get a sentence out without her popping in to interrupt me? I have two fucking months to convince her this is where she should be. That’s a lot of pressure on me, and I don’t want to let Theo down. The fate of the country might rest in her decision, but her decision is based on what I do. And I can’t fucking do my job if she keeps needling me with question after question after question . . . questions that don’t pertain to what I’m trying to teach her.
“This,” I say, gesturing between us. “This constant jabbering. Just let me get through the five topics, for fuck’s sake.”
A smile creeps over her lips as she leans back. “Ooo, you swore. I’m going to guess that is a big etiquette no-no.” She lifts her glass of water to her lips and takes a sip—her goddamn pinky lifting toward the sky.
“Yeah, but I’m not the future queen, now, am I?”
Sputtering water on the table, she sets her glass down and starts coughing. I give her a few moments.
When she wipes her face with a napkin, she asks, “Can you refrain from putting it like that? My ass just clenched, and I’m not sure it will unclench for hours. Do you understand how uncomfortable that’s going to be? Especially on this chair, which I can only assume was too hard for Goldilocks.”
I smooth my hand over my face and take a deep breath. “Okay, but can you let me fucking talk?”
“Deal.” She crosses her arms over her chest and gestures for me to proceed.
Christ.
Finally.
“The five categories are etiquette—”
“Oo, sorry, one more question.”
The grumble that flies out of me shakes the collar of her shirt.
“I know, sorry, but will there be a test after this? I’m horrible at taking tests, one of the reasons I had no desire to go to college. If there is, am I allowed to use a cheat sheet, like a full length of paper? Because, if so, I’ll start taking small notes now.”
Deep breaths.
In and out.
“There will be no exam. This isn’t a university.”
“Oh, wonderful.” She picks up another cookie. “You may proceed. You were saying, there are five whoosey-whatsits.”
With a strained voice, I say, “The five categories we’ll be going over are: etiquette, appearance, Torskethorpe history, crisis management, and cultural traditions. If you’re in line for the throne”—she winces—“then you’ll need to master all five.” She raises her hand and I hold back my eye roll. “Yes?”