not late." He glanced at his watch and added,
"In fact, you're almost two hours early by Elena time."
"Elena time?" The question came out a little
breathlessly as she scooted into the closest chair, hating the fact she could
feel perspiration clinging to the back of her silk shirt. "Just what is
Elena time?"
"Simple. It's always two hours after everyone else has
assembled."
"You mean Ele—" she quickly glanced around the room,
noting Ekaterina had already left them before she lowered her voice and
continued, "You mean I'm habitually late?"
"No." He reached for a croissant nestled in a basket.
"Being late implies you know when a function is scheduled to begin. Elena
time is an orchestrated move guaranteed to let all and sundry know that the
most important person has just arrived. It's a very effective ploy."
He said it so calmly, she thought. Such slashing, cruel words
would have devastated her. But she wasn't really Elena, she reminded herself,
reaching for the carafe of coffee.
"I don't know if I can do that." She hadn't realized
she'd voiced her thoughts aloud until the major shot her one of his enigmatic
glances.
"We'll make excuses for such inconsistencies."
She spread butter on a croissant and shook her head when he
offered her some jam. "I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of
explaining to do."
"We'll take care of it."
All too clearly she remembered the king's cryptic comment from
that small, cramped room. "Your job is to fix problems."
Major McConneghy appeared perfect for his job.
"You're wearing perfume."
Leave it to a man like McConneghy to notice, she thought, feeling
the heat begin to climb into her face.
"Ekaterina said it's my favorite."
"It suits you." He looked at her over the rim of his
cup. "Enticing yet innocent. Though smelling of sunshine and soap also
suits you."
Not sure what he meant by his words, or if she was ready to know,
she quickly changed the subject. "What's on the schedule today?"
"Drills."
"Drills?"
"A future queen must know how to walk, to talk, to address
her superiors and inferiors. There is a lot to learn."
Jane wanted to groan aloud. Somehow she thought it'd all make more
sense by the light of day. But it didn't.
As if he guessed her thoughts he pitched his voice lower.
"The more you learn now, the less likely you'll make a mistake
later."
Like she needed reminding.
"Fine." The word came out sharp. "Let's get started
then."
"First, you eat something." He spoke as if talking to a
child. "We have a long day ahead of us and I won't have you fainting on
me."
"I've never fainted in my life."
He leaned forward. "You've never taken lessons in deportment
before, either."
Jeesh. How hard could it be? she thought, picking up and biting into
a ripe plum. Being a queen couldn't be that much harder than actually working
for a living. Could it?
She found out several hours later.
If she'd thought the major was diabolical before, it was nothing
to what she felt about him after four straight hours of "drill." The
man was a sadist.
Stand. Sit. Walk straight. Curtsey. Smile. Wave. Stand up
straighter. Who'd have thought there was a way to graciously sit in a chair by
approaching it backwards. Or three different kinds of waves to use when
communicating from far away. Or six kinds of forks to choose from at official
state dinners.
Her jaw hurt from smiling. Her fingers cramped from waving and
gesturing. Her knees ached from rising and lowering herself into five different
kinds of chairs.
And all through it Major Lucius McConneghy just kept saying,
"Now do it again."
She wanted to throttle him.
By the time they took a break for a light lunch she felt as if
running a marathon, cold turkey, would be better than being a queen-to-be.
As if he read her thoughts, a talent he was particularly adept at,
McConneghy handed her a slice of cheese and said. "This morning was easy
compared to what's coming."
The man was a font of good news.
"Didn't your parents ever tell you if
"In fact, you're almost two hours early by Elena time."
"Elena time?" The question came out a little
breathlessly as she scooted into the closest chair, hating the fact she could
feel perspiration clinging to the back of her silk shirt. "Just what is
Elena time?"
"Simple. It's always two hours after everyone else has
assembled."
"You mean Ele—" she quickly glanced around the room,
noting Ekaterina had already left them before she lowered her voice and
continued, "You mean I'm habitually late?"
"No." He reached for a croissant nestled in a basket.
"Being late implies you know when a function is scheduled to begin. Elena
time is an orchestrated move guaranteed to let all and sundry know that the
most important person has just arrived. It's a very effective ploy."
He said it so calmly, she thought. Such slashing, cruel words
would have devastated her. But she wasn't really Elena, she reminded herself,
reaching for the carafe of coffee.
"I don't know if I can do that." She hadn't realized
she'd voiced her thoughts aloud until the major shot her one of his enigmatic
glances.
"We'll make excuses for such inconsistencies."
She spread butter on a croissant and shook her head when he
offered her some jam. "I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of
explaining to do."
"We'll take care of it."
All too clearly she remembered the king's cryptic comment from
that small, cramped room. "Your job is to fix problems."
Major McConneghy appeared perfect for his job.
"You're wearing perfume."
Leave it to a man like McConneghy to notice, she thought, feeling
the heat begin to climb into her face.
"Ekaterina said it's my favorite."
"It suits you." He looked at her over the rim of his
cup. "Enticing yet innocent. Though smelling of sunshine and soap also
suits you."
Not sure what he meant by his words, or if she was ready to know,
she quickly changed the subject. "What's on the schedule today?"
"Drills."
"Drills?"
"A future queen must know how to walk, to talk, to address
her superiors and inferiors. There is a lot to learn."
Jane wanted to groan aloud. Somehow she thought it'd all make more
sense by the light of day. But it didn't.
As if he guessed her thoughts he pitched his voice lower.
"The more you learn now, the less likely you'll make a mistake
later."
Like she needed reminding.
"Fine." The word came out sharp. "Let's get started
then."
"First, you eat something." He spoke as if talking to a
child. "We have a long day ahead of us and I won't have you fainting on
me."
"I've never fainted in my life."
He leaned forward. "You've never taken lessons in deportment
before, either."
Jeesh. How hard could it be? she thought, picking up and biting into
a ripe plum. Being a queen couldn't be that much harder than actually working
for a living. Could it?
She found out several hours later.
If she'd thought the major was diabolical before, it was nothing
to what she felt about him after four straight hours of "drill." The
man was a sadist.
Stand. Sit. Walk straight. Curtsey. Smile. Wave. Stand up
straighter. Who'd have thought there was a way to graciously sit in a chair by
approaching it backwards. Or three different kinds of waves to use when
communicating from far away. Or six kinds of forks to choose from at official
state dinners.
Her jaw hurt from smiling. Her fingers cramped from waving and
gesturing. Her knees ached from rising and lowering herself into five different
kinds of chairs.
And all through it Major Lucius McConneghy just kept saying,
"Now do it again."
She wanted to throttle him.
By the time they took a break for a light lunch she felt as if
running a marathon, cold turkey, would be better than being a queen-to-be.
As if he read her thoughts, a talent he was particularly adept at,
McConneghy handed her a slice of cheese and said. "This morning was easy
compared to what's coming."
The man was a font of good news.
"Didn't your parents ever tell you if
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