He was tall, topping over six feet, and wore his riding habit very well. The leather boots shone from the loving care his valet had put in. The riding crop was tapping restlessly on his left thigh, and there was a frown marring his brow.
"I really do not appreciate you sending a servant to fetch me like I'm some, some child. I was in the middle of taking a ride."
"I understand that Zahra has been having some issues?" she asked, referring to his beloved horse.
"He picked up a splinter a day ago." His arrogant frown deepened even more. "I will of course be having words with the groom."
"Felipe is getting old and his eyesight is failing. Please be patient with him."
"He should be retired."
Queen Sofia regarded her son mildly. "He's more than a servant, as you very well know. And he needs to feel useful."
"If anything had happened to my horse--"
"Nothing did. Please sit."
"Is this going to take long? I really need to be on my way."
She waited until he had taken a seat on one of the padded chairs before leaning back in hers, green eyes regarding him with fond exasperation. He reminded her so much of his father that it was heartbreaking. He was thirty-five years old and showed no signs of settling down to take his rightful place in the kingdom. She had to admit that it was her fault. He was entitled and spoiled, and she had contributed to that.
"Mother?" The impatience in his voice had her stirring from her memories.
"I hired someone."
His frown returned. "You have no need to run that by me. In fact, you never did before."
"She's an American."
"I see." He stretched his long-booted legs out and placed the riding crop across his thighs. "We've suddenly run out of applicants in the entire country?"
"I had to fire five assistants over the last year and a half."
"And you blame me for it?"
"They keep falling in love with you," she pointed out mildly.
"I never gave them a bit of encouragement."
"It does not matter."
"So, this American. I'm assuming it's a female?"
"Yes."
"She's a what? A troll or a lesbian?"
She had to laugh at his reasoning. "She's not your type."
"Then I suppose that's settled then." He started to rise when she waved a hand to stop him.
"I would like you to be here for supper so that you can meet her."
"When is this person coming?"
"She arrives this afternoon. We'll have supper earlier, at eight instead of ten, because I want her to retire early enough to get some rest."
"I have plans. And I really don't see the need to sit down with an employee."
