‘Oh, Mikael…’ Layla smiled. ‘I cannot wait.’

A selection of outfits was brought to the suite for Layla to try, and Mikael ordered coffee too.

‘I’m hungry,’ Layla moaned, coming out of the bedroom in a navy shift dress and screwing up her nose.

Mikael was putting his shirt back on—it was still warm from her.

‘We’ll have breakfast out,’ Mikael said, because he liked to eat at his favourite café during a trial and he was not changing his routine for Layla. ‘That looks nice.’

‘You wear it, then,’ she said. ‘It makes me feel miserable.’

She selected another outfit and headed back to the bedroom. The pale grey linen suit looked very drab to Layla, but when she put it on the skirt was nice and short, and with a silver cami and the jacket’s sleeves rolled up she liked it.

‘I’m ready,’ she said, stepping out of the bedroom and putting on her silver jewelled slippers. ‘And I’m very, very hungry, Mikael.’

There was no chance of outshining Layla, Mikael thought, because she looked stunning. ‘Don’t you want to do your make-up?’ he asked—because wasn’t that what every woman did?

She wasn’t every woman, though…

Layla shook her head. ‘I will only wear make-up for my future husband. Come on, Mikael, I need to eat soon or I will faint.’

‘I won’t be picking you up if you do,’ he said.

Mikael’s choice of café was a trendy converted warehouse that was frequented by his peers, who would all leave him alone, knowing that he wouldn’t want small talk this morning or best wishes for the day.

‘This is near the hotel where my brother and Trinity are,’ Layla commented.

‘Now do you see why I wanted you in different clothes?’ Mikael said, and she nodded. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added, ‘even if we see them, you’re having your week.’

Heads turned as they walked in. Not because Mikael was with a woman, more because Mikael was with a woman this close to the end of a trial—and what a woman she was!

Waving and smiling to anyone who caught her eye, Layla was surprised when they didn’t wave back.

‘Are you nervous about today?’ Layla asked, but then the waiter handed her a menu. She looked at it for a moment and then handed it back to him. ‘I can’t read or write English,’ she said, and beamed.

Mikael watched as Joel just about fell to the floor as she aimed her smile at him.

‘I’ll order,’ Mikael said, because Joel would clearly be only too happy to go through the entire menu for her. ‘Just fruit and pastries,’ Mikael said, ‘and two coffees—and two on sub. Actually, just a regular cappuccino for my guest,’ he said, because he always had an extra shot, and a high-on-caffeine Layla he wasn’t sure he could handle.

‘You drink a lot of coffee,’ she commented.

‘Because I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,’ he said, and then realised what she meant. He had ordered four coffees. ‘Two are on sub…’

Mikael let out a breath as she frowned. Just one easy conversation where he didn’t have to explain everything would be welcome, but that wasn’t going to happen this century.

‘If someone needs a coffee and they don’t have any money then they can ask if there are any on sub.’

She still looked bemused.

‘Do you have homeless people in Ishla?’

‘I believe so, but my father refuses to discuss those sort of issues with me.’

Those sort of issues.

Mikael was less than impressed when she wrinkled up her nose.

‘They’re people, Layla,’ Mikael said. He didn’t order those coffees without reason. How much easier would his life have been had he been able to get a warm drink or a sandwich just by asking. For a long while Mikael had scrimped or scavenged for every morsel. He remembered that every time he ordered food, and he did not take kindly to some pampered princess screwing up her nose.




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