Page 48 of Tall, Royal Hater
Fucking Neves…
I thought this holiday had turned to a shit show before, but only now was that officially the case.
Mariyah
The King and Queen of Touma took personal charge of helping me rearrange my return flight after I told my parents about the slight change of plans. Queen Leila herself let them know about Esmeralda and Kai’s engagement, and Katiya and Prince Arsh, so they didn’t question it. They were more than happy for me to stay longer, and Mum had sounded damn excited to be talking to the queen.
The whole time, I cursed Esmeralda in my head for putting me in the situation.
Why the fuck had the idiot thought it’d be a clever idea to volunteer me to plan Katiya and Prince Arsh’s private wedding? I didn’t know them well enough, and I’d never planned a wedding in my life, small or otherwise. On top of that, I had to plan it with Shehryar too.
In fairness, I knew volunteering me had been Esmeralda’s way of trying to help me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And no one had forced me to agree. I’d chosen to do that myself.
I admitted a part of that agreement had come down to the way Shehryar had been reluctant to help. I understood his shock, but his attitude and the resigned look on his mother’s face spurredme into action. Of course, the dickhead agreed after, probably only to scorn my involvement.
So, not only was I going to spend the next week or so trying to have fun while ignoring the person I hated most in the world, but I also now had to work with said person to plan his mother’s wedding.
Fuck you, Esmeralda.
Later that same evening, I pushed open a carved wooden door and stepped inside the room, a notepad and pen pressed to my chest in my other hand. Ignoring the footsteps that followed behind me, I looked around the office. Prince Arsh had said it was unused, but it definitely wasn’t neglected.
There were two wooden desks perpendicular to each other towards the middle back and left of the room that looked ancient but sturdy, and on the right wall were floor-to-ceiling bookcases decorated with ornaments and vases. And in the bottom right were two cream sofas placed opposite each other with a dark wood coffee table between, and a red and gold rug spread across the wooden floor.
Prince Arsh had offered the space for Shehryar and I to use while we planned the wedding. But with the way Shehryar was behaving, I doubted we’d be in there long. In the prior hour or so we’d spent talking to Katiya and Prince Arsh about what they wanted for the ceremony, Shehryar hadn’t offered a single idea or word of encouragement, while me, the outsider, had been the one taking all the notes.
I wasn’t sure why I’d suggested discussing our next steps in planning. He was so fucking unreceptive it was easy to assume he was planning the event for someone he hated, not the mother he loved.
As the door clicked shut behind me, I made a beeline for the sofas and took the one on the left. Once I was seated, I adjustedthe split sides of my jumper, then placed the notepad and pen on my lap.
A few moments later, the dickhead walked into view. He tugged at his black chinos above his knees and sat down opposite me, taking his time to get comfortable. When he was done fussing, he lifted his leaden stare to me, his posture slumped back in the seat and legs spread. He created the image of someone who was vexed and fed up.
I gave him the chance to start the conversation considering it washismother’s wedding, but in my silence, all he did was arch an impatient brow.
This fucking—
Venom seeped between my clenched teeth, ready to shoot at him, but I swallowed it down, reminding myself this was about Katiya and Prince Arsh.I could try to be civil for them.
“So, your mum and Prince Arsh’s wedding,” I eventually said, opening the notepad on my lap. “They’re having it in the palace, so there’s no worry about finding a venue. Which also means the palace kitchen can cater the food. There’s not that many people, so I’m sure they’ll manage some appetisers and dinner, but I can ask just in case. Then there’s the issue of outfits—”
“Is there a point to this, or are you just wasting my time, repeating everything that was said already?”
The sharpness of his low tone, emphasised by his Jahandari accent, shredded the rest of my sentence to pieces. The edges of the fragments left a path of paper cuts across my cheeks and chest, filling me with an irritated, smarting sensation.
I lifted my gaze from the notepad to arch my brows sarcastically. “You were there in the room? Are you sure?”
“You might’ve noticed if you focused on anything but your own reflection.”
I gritted my teeth hard. There’d been a mirror next to the sofas in Prince Arsh’s office that I’d checked myself out in before I’dsat down and when I’d gotten up, but so what? My focus hadn’t wavered from Prince Arsh and Katiya while I’d been talking to them.
“It’s funny you say that because I still somehow managed to be the only one actually discussing the wedding with them.” I tilted my head. “What were you doing other than being a miserable asshole?”
His hard expression darkened further. “I was listening rather than shoving my own ideas down their throats.”
I flashed him a smile. “Well, someone had to care enough to make some fucking suggestions.”
The tic in his jaw was almost obscured by his trimmed facial hair but my smile widened upon seeing the evidence of his irritation. “So, as I was saying,” I continued. “The issue of their outfits is fine. Esmeralda said Kai’s friends with Lord Candy Hamilton, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to lend some of his pieces. And they wanted simple decorations, so winter flowers from the garden and some mini lanterns or candles will do. I’ll speak to the queen about that.”
I pointed the pen at him. “All you need to do is ring your grandparents and see if they wanna come for the wedding, then book them tickets if they say yes. Think you can manage that? Oh, and…” I clicked on the top of my pen and braced the nib against the page. “What does your mum like to eat? I’ll speak to Pierre about making her and Prince Arsh’s favourite dishes.”
