Nineteen

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The first course was brought out shortly, consisting of stuffed chicken and a slab of stag that had been salted overnight

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The first course was brought out shortly, consisting of stuffed chicken and a slab of stag that had been salted overnight. Celia coated her tongue and throat with wine in between bites, listening to the somewhat soothing voice of James as he spoke to her, along with the light music that fluttered in the background.

"So, you grew up in Greenwich Palace?"

Celia nodded, setting down her glass on the table after taking a sip of the bitter wine. "My father was a trusted advisor to her Majesty. This palace is my home."

James noticed the glint of sadness in her blue eyes. "My condolences about your father."

"Word travels fast these days," Celia said. "Thank you."

"Especially when such a respected man had such a treacherous fate," he replied. "Tell me about your childhood."

"We moved to court when I was about ten years of age. My sister and I enjoyed roaming the halls and playing in the gardens for hours on end." Celia smiled at the thought. "My father was a busy man, always in meetings with the Queen or other important members of her staff. Being a war veteran, he was trusted and respected by many at court."

"And your mother?"

Her small smile faded. "She never played much of a role in my life. I'd appreciate it if we could speak of something more lighthearted."

"Of course, my apologies."

"No need, you were not aware," Celia assured him. "In truth, I believe I'm the one that needs to apologize, or at least come clean. I am aware of your reasoning for being at court, the Queen did tell me."

"So, you know of my interest in your hand?" James raised his brows.

"Yes," she replied. "Though, I am curious... Why me?"

"What do you mean? You are a respectable young woman, and not to mention very beautiful. Why should a man not want you?"

"You're too kind, but I am below your rank. You could easily marry someone of higher station than myself."

"Is that not what everyone expects of me?"

Celia furrowed her brows. "I would presume so."

"Why should I play into their predictions?" James asked, leaning in close. "Life would be no fun at all if I obeyed the rules of society."

"Is that what I am to you, then? A pawn for your game?" Celia pulled away and clenched her jaw.

"I mean no offense, Celia," he said, returning to his upright position. "Truly. I apologize."

The sincerity in his eyes was like a drug, flowing from his eyes to her own and seeping into her system with such ease. Celia broke their gaze and turned her head to land her eyes upon Elizabeth, who sent a steely glare her way. She knew that she had to put on a show for Elizabeth; she had to convince her that James' proposal was the best thing ever to happen to her. She turned to face him again.

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