Usually, she'd be so disgusted at him that she'd be unable to play his games, and she is aware at the time, she might hold the place of a pawn, but until she feels less than the queen, she ought not to worry. Her society wasn't his, therefore the rules she so arduously followed left for the brief moments of conversing with him. Mercy, she just made her virgin palms provokers of two slaps--that had to be thrilling.
Ah, he's too daring, and her face displayed anger for a blink, she speaks then, her insulted look escaping. ❝I'd be surprised if you weren't so fond of crossing my lines. Assuredly, I doubt my grace will make anyone assume me different than a princess in a colony, as for your appearance, I'll refrain my comments.
Placing her palm on his cheek, a gesture that at first would look like she would attack him ending in a soft landing that would be of endearment if she weren't so pompously smiling. She pats it gently with the top of her fingers, as if he were a child.
❝And sadly, I am so proud of leaving both of your cheeks an equal red--I wouldn't want to mismatch the colors. Admitting too my hands hurt far too much too.