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“How I detest that look,” she said, her eyes roaming my face.
“What look?”
“The Monterey stubborn-mule look. All of you seem to have it—your grandfather, your father, your brother. The look that says, ‘I will not be moved, and I fight till my very last breath on this.’”
I couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “Now that you have said that, I know for sure I am right.” I lifted my head proudly.
“Mules,” she grumbled, shaking her head, leaving me to walk to the door.
“Love you, Mother.”
“And I, you,” she replied, knocking on the door, and it opened for her.
When she left, I sank back into the chair, rubbing the bridge of my eyes. What a very long day, and we were only halfway through.
“Adelaar?”
No!
When I looked up, there stood Balduin, already waiting with the afternoon and evening reports. From the looks of it, I’d be here until dinner, at the very least. I missed my brother because he was my brother, but I also missed having someone else be responsible for this. Part of me wanted to ignore it all and find Odette, go to a corner of the palace and just stay there in bed, drinking and forgetting the rest of the world existed.
“Shall we begin, sir?” he questioned as if I had another choice.
At least now there was something to look forward to after this.
I could not be with her now, but after I finished, I could go to her and pretend even for a few short hours that we were alone.
“Yes.” I nodded, rising from the couch and moving over to the desk, grabbing the fountain pen. “Has the prime minister left?”
“Mr. Ambrose is showing him out before returning to Ms. Odette.”
“I hope he did not slam the door too hard on his face,” I muttered mostly to myself.
“I do not believe he would do such a thing, sir.”
I glanced at him, not understanding the tone in his voice. But he just gave me a sharp nod before placing today’s briefs down on the table.
“Next this afternoon is the chicken dispute between the farmers of Zotteven and the farmers of Youglin,” he added.
“Yes, of course, the great chicken war. I can only hope Odette’s time right now is as intriguing as mine.”
“I doubt it, sir. After this, we have the Nationalism Reform Act to review. I’ve arranged for you to hear a word from two experts, and from what I have heard so far, they are riveting in their discourse.”
I wished to high heaven he was being sarcastic, but he was not. I did not know who was worse—Iskandar or Balduin. Actually, I did. It was him. Iskandar at least understood my sarcasm and chose to ignore it. Balduin, on the other hand, always thought everyone was just as interested and excited as he was to listen to lectures, records, and do paperwork, and thus, he took my sarcasm as excitement, which made him give me more to read over.
I did not wish to do this today. “We might have to postpone that riveting conversation for another day, Balduin, as tonight will be Odette’s first dinner here. There will be things we must discuss.”
“Oh, right, of course, I apologize. I was eager and forgot. What a shame, but then again, sir, maybe she would like to hear it as well. To understand some current events? I can have them wait until after dinner?”
Someone, please save me.
