"You should kneel."
"Why? You're not the king, and as of yesterday, you're no longer regent." She stood up as tall as she could, not quite reaching his eye level, but close enough. He wasn't towering over her.
"Your brother may have come of age, but you haven't. I have half a mind to send you to a convent."
"Go ahead, Father. If I'm Catholic, that makes me worthless to England, and then where's your bargaining chip for Russia?" she asked seriously.
"Enough of this!" he shouted, "you're getting to be as bad as your mother."
She smiled. "Thank you."