Invitation to the Prince's Palace / The Prince's Second Chance: Invitation to the Prince's Palace / The Prince's Second Chance. Brenda Harlen
the occasion had been less formal, Mel might have smiled at Rik’s tweaking of history to suit himself. But this was not that kind of moment. Mel curtsied.
‘I am pleased to meet you, Melanie.’ Georgio took her hand and air-kissed above the fingers and, while doing so, searched her face. After a moment he gave a slight nod and indicated a setting of leather lounges and chairs to the left.
They were in what Rik referred to as one of the ‘great rooms’. It was a large area, and could have felt intimidating if Mel hadn’t walked in here determined not to be intimidated.
Mel and Rik had made their way down the mountain this morning. He’d driven at a gentler pace and Mel had remained calm until they were almost at the palace. Nervous anticipation had set in then but Mel felt that was justified.
‘Let us get to know one another a little, Melanie,’ Georgio said as they all took their seats.
Rik sat on one of the sofas beside Mel. He seemed deeply resolved this morning. Last night, when she’d thought he would kiss her at her door, kiss her properly, Melanie had thought he might feel as confused and tempted and aware of her as she did of him. But of course that was quite silly. He might have wanted to kiss her. But that didn’t mean his emotions were engaged.
Not that Mel’s were!
Concentrate on the king, Mel. This is not the time for anything else.
‘Melanie and I first met through a cousin of hers.’ Rik added a few details.
When the king nodded, Mel bit back the urge to heave a sigh of relief. But she also had to handle her share of the conversation. ‘I admire Rikardo, and the work that he does for the people of Braston. I want to be as supportive of that as I possibly can.’
‘That is good.’ Georgio’s glance shifted from Mel to Rik and back to Mel again. ‘And what did you do before you agreed to marry my son?’
‘I worked as a cook.’ It might not have been a glamorous job. It would probably sound even less glamorous if she admitted she had done that for little money, working for her relatives to earn her right to a sense of belonging.
Note to self, Mel. You never did earn that right and you waited too long to get yourself out of that situation.
A similar set of rites was being played out in this room between Rik and his father.
She turned the highest wattage smile she could muster towards King Georgio. ‘My history is humble, I suppose, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of in coming from everyday stock.’
‘If that “stock” has an appropriate history attached to it.’ Georgio’s eyes narrowed. ‘My son will run a check. I will see this report for myself.’
Like a police-record check or something?
No, Mel, it will be a lot more detailed even than that.
She tried not to bristle at the thought, and at the king’s emotionless declaration. As though he did this all the time and would have no hesitation in eliminating her like a blot from Rik’s radar screen if she didn’t come up to standard.
It didn’t actually matter whether Georgio liked her or approved of her or not, provided she could marry Rik so that Rik could carry out his plans.
I still don’t like it. My family history is my business. I don’t want it exposed to all and sundry.
‘Dominico already ran the check.’ Rik clipped the words off. ‘You may take Melanie at her word, Father. There is nothing in her history to justify the need for you to view the report.’
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