Serathine's amber eyes glinted with quiet amusement. "You two… sound like a married couple already," she said with a sigh. "Who would believe that you were fighting just days ago?"
Cressida's gaze sharpened, though her smile didn't fade. "They weren't fighting, Duchess. They were recalibrating. It's what powerful pairs do before presenting themselves to the world."
Dax gave a soft, lazy laugh. "You make it sound far more civilized than it was."
Chris turned toward him, unimpressed. "You're not helping."
"I'm not trying to," Dax murmured, utterly unapologetic.
Serathine's tone smoothed back into business. "Regardless of the method, the result is what matters. Now, Christopher… your formal instruction begins tomorrow."
Chris blinked. "Formal instruction?"
"Yes," Cressida said, as if he'd just asked if water was wet. "Etiquette, comportment, political protocol, public speaking, posture, everything a royal consort is expected to master before being unleashed on a televised event."
