Chapter 113: Chatty
Soleia wracked her mind for a topic of conversation as she proceeded to lead them to their rooms, mentally hoping that they were at least ready for them to stay in. Truth be told, she was entirely unprepared to be a hostess. Three years at Drankenmire had taught her to balance a checkbook like none other, but it certainly didn’t hone her abilities to make guests feel welcome.
After all, no one visited Drankenmire in those three years.
Meanwhile, these men continued to burn the back of her neck with the intensity of their stares. Soleia hastened her footsteps, hoping they would find something else to distract them. Vramid’s palace was lovely, why were their eyes glued on her like dogs facing a piece of juicy meat?
That comparison made her more uncomfortable.
"Princess Soleia’s sure is energetic," Prince Ricard observed. "Her strides certainly are wider than most women."
"She’s trying to get rid of you," Prince Raziel said bitingly in response. "Take the hint and shut up."
"That cannot be so," Prince Ricard scoffed. "Is that right, Princess? Do you truly detest our presence? That’s heartbreaking to hear."
"I do not," Soleia said, turning around quickly to clear the air. If she let Prince Ricard run his mouth, who knows what kind of tall tales those lips would spill out by the time they arrived at their rooms. "I’m very pleased that both of you are so enthusiastic about attending my wedding that you will arrive an entire week earlier. Truly, it’s an unexpected present."
"And she speaks with a silver tongue!" Prince Ricard beamed, clapping his hands in apparent delight, but Soleia didn’t get a good feeling from him. She had a feeling that she was being patronized, as though she was nothing more than a dog doing a trick.