Quote of the chapter: "The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it." ― Woody Allen.
Antoine's lawyer, Kiana Baptiste, eyed Kenna before turning to the judge. "I call the plaignant, the Duchess of Orléans, to the stand."
Kenna raised an eyebrow and clicked her tongue, thankfully smiling at the police officer who helped her to the stand. She took her time, she was in no rush and made sure the jury saw what he did to her and her husband.
She sat down and placed her hand onto the Bible the clerk presented her with.
"Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
Kenna cleared her throat before saying, "I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
Baptiste turned to Kenna. "May I just be clear, you are the Duchess of Orléans, wife to King Henry VI's eldest son, Prince Sébastien?"
"I am," Kenna confirmed.
"So, you signed the registers before your wedding was cut short," Baptiste stated.
"I did. It's customary for the papers to be signed before the vows," Kenna replied.
Baptiste nodded. "That is true. So, the night you left France on the 24th of December 2019, you took a flight to Sweden?"
"That is correct," Kenna said, knowing where this was going.
"Is there anyone in the courtroom that you saw and interacted with on that plane?"
"Yes," Kenna said.
"Who?"
"The defendant," Kenna replied.
Baptiste smiled. "And you and Monsieur Bourbon shared a few drinks? Talked?"
Kenna sighed. "We shared a bottle of alcohol. Talked about random things."
"And following the flight to Sweden, you both went to a hotel?"
"We did."
"Where you had sexual intercourse?"
"Yes," Kenna said, strained. The room was suddenly becoming hotter.
Baptiste had the jury turn to the evidence screen where the timeline of Kenna and Antoine was shown. "So, you committed adultery, married to the King of France's son, no less."
"Objection!" Kenna and Bash's attorney, Bardin, cried out.
"On what grounds?" The judge asked.
"The Duchess's marriage to His Highness is not relevant in the case that they were estranged," Bardin said. "Separated even. Relations, when the couple were not together, do not count. You are damaging my client's character by assumption."
The judge turned to Baptiste. "Is this getting somewhere?"
"It is, Your Honour," she said.
"Overruled."
Kenna mentally cursed, seeing Bash shake his head in slight discomfort and annoyance.
"How can a happy couple become separated on the day they marry?" Baptiste asked rhetorically. "Prince Sébastien might have found out that his beloved fiancée and now wife had relations with other men and decided to end their relationship-"
"Objection, she is making guesses!" Bardin said.
"Sustained," the judge said. "Madame Baptiste, is this getting somewhere?"
Baptiste smiled. "Let me rephrase. Duchess Mckenna, is this," she began, turning everyone's attention to the screen where she was entering a hotel. "You?"
"Yes," Kenna said.
"And have you met this," Baptiste began, pointing to the screen. "Man?"
Kenna squinted at the screen. Noting who it was. "Yes."
The man was an expensive goods handler and she had been wanting to get some new one of a kind pair of heels.
"And you left, say, an hour later?"
"I did. We had finished a business deal," Kenna said.
"Would that business deal happen to involve sex?"
"No-"
"This man went on tape to confirm that he and the Duchess had sexual relations. He said she paid him to keep quiet-"
"What?!"
"Said that she threatened him, sent him to her under the guise of a business deal involving some limited edition Louboutin high heels."
"That is not true!" Kenna cried out.
"Duchess Mckenna, calm yourself down!" The judge ordered.
Kenna stared in disbelief, her eyes landing on Antoine as he smirked. She scoffed, shaking her head.
"You had consenting sex with Monsieur Bourbon and Monsieur Duval," Baptiste stated. She went over to her desk and collected a photograph of a car. "Permission to approach the witness stand?"
"Granted," the judge replied.
Baptiste gave the photo to Kenna. "Recognise the vehicle?"
"It's the vehicle that ran my husband and me off the road," Kenna said tersely.
"So you recognise the number plate?"
Kenna sighed. "I do."
"And who does the vehicle belong to that you know of?"
"Monsieur Duval," Kenna whispered.
"We did not get that. Can you repeat, s'il vous plaît?"
Kenna cleared her throat. "Monsieur Duval," she said, louder.
Baptiste nodded and returned to her desk to retrieve more photographs to show her. "And these photographs, can you explain what they mean?"
Kenna gasped when she saw that they were the threats and photos taken of her. "These were done by Antoine Bourbon. I rejected him after we slept together and he began threatening to kill me-"
"Do you recognise this?" Baptiste asked, placing down a new photograph.
Kenna paled. "I-I-"
"For the jury, the screen shows words written on a mirror with lipstick. Crass words, 'slut', 'whore', 'ugly'. All written by the Duchess against herself. Can you confirm that is your handwriting, Your Ladyship?"
"It is," Kenna confirmed.
Kenna swallowed deeply, bowing her head. Room service came to attend to her room as she headed to the bar for a drink that night before she returned to her room and texted Bash. They must have not been room service at all.
"Did you or did you not write those words?" Baptiste asked her.
"I did," Kenna said, her voice breaking. "I did."
Baptiste nodded, directing everyone back to the screen. "She left that hotel in a hurry. Once it was searched and prepared for the next guests, staff found materials in the safe of the room that were used to form all of these 'threats' and 'warnings'. There was a camera, camera stand and the camera had settings on a timer."
Mary gasped. They're lying! This is not true! She turned to Francis fearfully, everyone looking as horrified and shocked as the other. They knew it was all lies, that they were planted.
"I did not do those-"
"We managed to receive medical records from Scotland," Baptiste said, turning to the judge. "Duchess Mckenna has a history of mental health. She was treated at a private institution for six weeks in 2016 when she was seventeen. Her doctors had called her 'unstable' and a 'risk to herself'."
Kenna's eyes met Bash's and he looked at her in confusion. She wanted to say that it was only because of how bad her bulimia got but it wasn't as severe afterwards. She was not a risk to herself, she just let her illness control her back then, almost collapsing daily and feeling faint and she had malnutrition. She hadn't meant to lie about seeking treatment for her illness, she thought he'd see her differently if he knew the truth.
"She has concocted a story about how my client ran her and her husband off the road because she was too ashamed to tell His Highness the truth," Baptiste said. "That she had relations with other men following their wedding day and one of those men, Monsieur Duval was the reason why she had knee and spine surgery and her husband was comatose for over a month. I rest my case."
Kenna covered her face, willing the tears to not come.
"Fuck," she whispered.
...
"Cousin!" Antoine cried out, bringing Bash in for a tight hug. "I am so happy that you are better. We were all so worried and I am glad that justice has been served." He laughed. "Imagine being arrested on your holiday!"
Just as he was about to pull back, Bash kept his hold with his arm around Antoine's neck tightly and he whispered into his ear, "I will kill you. I will make sure they won't even find the damn body."
Antoine pulled back and gave him a bright smile. "I missed you too," he said, tapping Bash's cheek.
Bash stepped back from his grip and he, Francis and their friends watched as Madeleine came to stand beside her brother, a polite but strained smile on her face.
Antoine kissed her cheek and she flinched. "My baby sister, always on my side and there for me. Shame Louis couldn't enjoy all of this. He and his new fiancée went out of the country for some wedding planning in England. But dear old Maddie..."
Madeleine swallowed deeply, averting her eyes from her brother's gaze as she rubbed at a bruise on her wrist. Bash studied her and realised what was going on. She falsified the evidence, she was a part of it all along.
"You bitch," he breathed out. "Not that I expected anything less. You Bourbons disgust me."
Leith spat at their feet. "When everyone realises the truth, your family will be brought down. Disgraces, the lot of you."
Elisabeth and Claude walked up to them, turning to their brothers in disbelief.
"It's true?" Elisabeth asked, scowling at Antoine and his sister.
"It's over," Francis whispered.
"Where's Kenna?" Claude asked.
Bash turned to them. "I sent her home. Mary's with her." He looked at Antoine. "I didn't want her to be more distressed than needed."
"You won't get away with it," Lissie told Antoine. "It's time someone put you Bourbons in place and we will sure as hell make you a damn example."
Antoine grinned. "I'd like to see you try," he said before grabbing Madeleine's arm and walking off with her stumbling after him.
"Something good came out of today," Francis said. "We know his weakness."
"And that is?" Julien asked.
"Madeleine," Bash said before walking towards his car.
...
"Kenna, please!"
"I have to get out of here, Mary," Kenna told her, stuffing her clothes into her suitcase. "You know what? Forget it. I have money, I can buy new clothes-"
"So what if everyone knows that you were admitted to a mental health clinic?" Mary asked her. "No one cares, everybody who matters loves you."
Kenna bit her lip, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "It was hell for me. Since I was fourteen, I've been through hell. Do you wonder why I drink? It's to lessen the pain. Do you wonder why I keep buying things that don't matter?! It's to lessen the fucking pain!" She screamed. "I buy shoes, clothes, jewellery and nothing dulls the pain. I don't feel like anything is worth it. Not like Bash is. Now, Bash, he gets me. He helps and now, all he'll see is something that he will constantly have to keep building so I don't collapse and give up!"
"What about your music? Your freedom-"
"Music? I remember our school forcing us to play the piano for six hours one Saturday, Mary," Kenna retorted. "Music is just a pastime, it's not going to help me recover or whatever." She sighed, sitting down. "I thought that Antoine would be locked up or whatever and I'll be safe. I'll be able to give my child everything because I don't want them to have a broken mother. Someone to be ashamed of and not look up to..."
Mary sat down beside and took her hands. "We will handle Antoine," Mary promised her. "We can ask for a retrial, we just need evidence that he planted everything."
"Impossible."
"Not if we put our minds to it." Mary tutted. "Henry will help. He said that he will do this if this is the last thing he does." She looked around to make sure they were alone in the vicinity even though they were in Kenna's home. "Henry appealed for the death penalty as we were in court. It was successful. If we can get Antoine back to jail, he'll be gone. For good."
Kenna nodded. "What if we can't?"
"Then, we'll ignore him. Show him he can't break us," Mary replied. "Men like him won't get that far. He'll have his downfall one day."
Kenna wrapped her arms around Mary. "I wish we could drink."
"Lord knows I need a drink," Mary said with a chuckle. "Shall we settle for sparkling water instead?"
"Yeah."
"And finish planning my baby shower? We need something to look forward to," Mary replied. "Something to forget about all of this."
Kenna nodded her response.
"Good," Mary said. "Right, so I was thinking we could all wear rose gold..."
...
Henry sighed heavily when he saw his niece in the hospital bed. "Let me guess, Antoine?"
Madeleine nodded shakily. "My husband's at home, I couldn't face it calling him to France."
"So you called me? After what you did to my family?"
"I had to!" Madeleine cried out. "He... He's always been able to have a hold on me. I don't know how. Trust me, I've tried to not let him get to me but he threatened my husband and-"
"Did you plant the evidence in my son's wife's room?"
Madeleine shook her head. "Antoine paid someone to. He had to cover his tracks after he ran them off the road. He also paid off that store clerk or whatever he was that met Mckenna."
"Accessory to attempted murder, Madeleine," Henry snapped. "What have you done, you stupid girl?"
"I'm sorry! Tell Bash that-"
"I won't tell him anything," Henry told her. "Right now, all he needs to think about is his wife. His wife whose character was destroyed more than it had been already. His attorney went through her medical files. That's sick."
Madeleine swallowed deeply, wincing when her black eye stung. "I know. I didn't know he'd do that to her. I didn't know that the case laid on destroying her witness account. I thought your prosecuting team were excellent."
"Not when evidence was being forged, Madeleine!"
"What can I do? Fight him?" She asked, eyes wide. "He'll hurt me just as he did when we were kids. He used to break my fingers, sprain my wrists, snap my ankle, little things like that. He practised on me and moved on to women he slept with."
"Did he ever-"
"No," she said. "He wasn't that crazy that he'd partake in incest."
"Good," Henry said with a sigh of relief. "Madeleine, you must tell the truth. Your brother must be stopped."
Madeleine swallowed deeply. "One condition."
"Depends."
"Full immunity," she said. "For me. When he's arrested and dealt with and the retrial is over, you make sure I get back to the Netherlands safely."
Henry nodded. "I will make that happen."
"I'm truly sorry."
"Well, I'm sorry too," Henry mumbled, retrieving his recorder. "I'll make sure you get the full immunity if you can provide us with evidence of your brother's wrongdoings."
Madeleine gripped onto the sheet covering her legs. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good," he said, ending the recording. "Get better. I will see if my son and his wife will grant you an audience so you can ask them for forgiveness."
"Anything," she whispered. "Anything to stop him from hating me."
"What does he matter?"
Madeleine shrugged. "Nothing but he cared about me once. I just want him to be happy."
Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously before he left, nodding at the guards he stationed outside her room. They were sourced from Holland, so Antoine wasn't suspicious of them.
When he got to his car at the back entrance of the hospital, he handed the recorder to Remy.
"You said you had a friend?" The King asked.
"Julien does, Sir," Remy said. "I'll make sure this goes through the proper channels. Anything for Bash and Kenna."
"You're a good friend," Henry mumbled, telling the driver to drive on. "Hopefully, by next week, Antoine will be served the peine de mort."
Remy nodded. "By God's grace, Sir." He set his jaw. "Antoine Bourbon made the mistake of trusting his family."
"And very soon, he'll find that out."
...
"Louis Valois, where are you?" Claude sang, looking under tables and in various rooms at Versailles.
She sighed, he'd taken to hiding a lot and she hoped nothing was wrong with him. He tended to suffer in silence, making his older siblings worried about his safety at times.
"LouLou!" She cried out, getting slightly worried now.
She had left him for an hour in front of the TV. He refused to leave Francis and Mary's sides so had been granted stay at Versailles along with Claude and Margo. Lissie had returned to Fontainebleau, Claude never knew why she was at Versailles in the first place.
"Have you seen the Duke of Urbino?" Claude asked two passing guards. "About this," she began, putting her hand to her hip. "High and full of energy with blonde hair everywhere like a yapping dog?"
"Non, Madamoiselle," the first guard said.
"Try the kitchens. The Dauphin normally treats him to some lemon and strawberry tarts," the second one suggested.
Claude grinned. "You two are étoiles!"
She hurried downstairs and headed to the kitchens, finding one blonde child stuffing his face with tarts, jam all over his cheeks and forehead as the baker chuckled and the chefs enjoyed his excited chatter.
"LouLou!" Claude cried out in relief, grabbing a kitchen towel to clean his face up and bop his nose. "Hello, Gorgeous! Why did you run off?"
"Le monstre was on the screen!" Louis told her, the nine-year-old's eyes wide.
Claude giggled. "You're so silly! It's Hotel Transylvania, they're all monsters!" She helped him down from the table. "Come on, let's leave these lovely people in peace."
Everyone waved them off and she beamed, holding Louis's hand as they headed back upstairs. Claude blushed, thinking how motherly she was acting. She did want kids one day, but there was the big thing that she hadn't come out to the rest of the family. Only Mary, Francis and her father knew and Lord knew what Catherine de Medici would say about that.
But on the other hand, she did like men. She had dated a few but nothing was exciting or right until she had her secret girlfriend who left the country after her parents got new jobs in the States.
"Claude Annette Léona Valois," a male voice said from behind her.
Claude gasped and turned to face her ex-boyfriend and son of her father's courtier, Luc Narcisse.
"Luca?"
"Luc," he said, grinning. "We're not together anymore, you don't need to say my government name."
Claude giggled, placing her hands on Louis's shoulders. "Hey."
"Hi."
She blushed. "It's been too long."
"It has," he agreed. "Two years since you dumped me for a gi-"
"Two years, yes," she quickly said, nervously looking around. "How have you been?"
Luc nodded. "I've been well. Uh, my father is training me into the family business, royal courtier. I'm supposed to be shadowing the future king but he's not around."
"Oh, they're in Paris," Claude said. "I think you heard about what happened?"
Luc scowled. "That bastard," he muttered before blushing and eyeing Louis. "Uh, I mean-"
"It's fine!" Louis giggled. "I won't tell anyone!"
Claude nodded, chuckling. "He's got our backs. You can swear as much as you can in front of him," she said, squeezing her little brother's cheeks. "Anyway, so Francis is with Sébastien and Mckenna."
"Right," Luc said. "I'll get back to Font-"
"Stay," Claude said. "I need to ask you about the Duke of Auvergne."
She did her background search on the man, he was good friends with Luc, the men being two years older than her, the same age as Francis. He was into guys and his parents didn't know, no one really knew except Claude who learnt this after getting drunk one night with Luc.
She had to see if she could secure a marriage request from him, so they will have heirs to the Auvergne legacy and Valois one too and be content in a secret open marriage. They'd both be free to see other people.
"Charles 'Enzo' Bechard? As in my friend, the Duke of Auvergne, Enzo Bechard?" He asked, incredulously.
"Oui, did I stutter?" She snapped.
Luc smirked. "Your parents want to marry you off?"
"They do," she admitted.
"And his parents have been looking for three years now," he stated.
"Have they?" She asked coyly.
"A French princess, huh," Luc said, smiling a little. "I'll see if I can set things up for you."
Claude sighed in relief. "Oh, Luc, you're-"
"At a price."
"What?"
"Cover your little brother's ears," he said.
She did as told. "What is your price?"
Luc smiled. "Remember the night we spent at Deauville Beach?"
"How could I?" She asked, becoming flustered. "It was my first time."
He bowed his head a little, clearing his throat. "If you want to spend the rest of your life in a content marriage to Enzo, go ahead. But for the past year, I've not been able to stop thinking about you and what we had."
"What we had was very brief-"
"What we had was magical, Claude," Luc cut her off, looking around to see if they were alone. "You may like girls now, but I know we had something great."
Claude's hands were becoming sweaty from their positions over Louis's ears. She nodded. "Meet me there tonight at eleven. Bring a towel, I'm not looking forward to cleaning sand from places they don't belong."
"Claude, I'm not asking you for sex-"
"One night, Luca," she said firmly. "I want to see if you're still... good."
"We only had the one time!" Luc laughed.
"But obviously, we've both been with other people," she told him. "Let's see if you can... still excite me."
Luc grinned. "Challenge accepted."
...
"Francis," Mary moaned the minute his lips attacked her neck when they closed the door. "What has got into you?" She giggled, moving his head so their lips met instead.
"Nothing," he breathed out against her lips. "My wife is just so damn beautiful. That dress is doing wonders for you."
Mary beamed. "When you put it like that..." Her lips moulded with his again and he let out a soft sigh of relief, his hands gripping onto her hips as hers entwined into his hair.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she replied before her lips stopped moving at the sound of knocking on their door.
They quickly fixed themselves before Francis opened the door to let Mr Jones inside.
"Your Royal Highnesses," he greeted them with a bow. "The Queen told Angelica to tell me to tell you that a documentary based on the royal baby will commence tomorrow morning."
"What?!" The couple said.
"Yes," Mr Jones said, wincing. "She believed that diverting people's attention away from the lost case would be a good idea. This documentary will follow your baby shower event, labour and birth and the child's christening. It's King Henry's first grandchild, everyone is in tenterhooks."
"Well, tell them to fu-"
"We'll do it," Francis cut his wife off with a sigh. "Anything to shift away from the bad press."
Mary scoffed before nodding in agreement. "Fine."
"We control what happens," Francis told her. "Anything we want will be the narrative."
"Very well, Sir," Jones said. "I will return at two in the morning for your daily vitamin drink."
Francis saw him out and Mary cursed, heading to their bed. They couldn't believe it, the last thing they needed was a camera shoved into their faces 24/7. But then again, it would stop the increasing abuse Kenna was getting and Bash for marrying her in the first place.
"I'm sure my mother couldn't have thought of something else-"
"I wanted this to be our baby before they'd join the line of succession," Mary said sadly. "I wanted to feel the excitement and happiness between us. Now, every little moment will be documented down and we'd have to fake our reactions."
Francis joined her, bringing her to sit down. "Don't worry. As I said, we will control everything that goes into this. They won't take this away from us. Let them try and overrule the King of France."
Mary smiled a little. "I guess your father stepping down was a good thing... You can say 'no' whenever they piss me off."
"Rightly so."
"And if they piss me off, will you-" Mary gasped, taking his hand and placing it onto her bump.
"Mary?"
"Shh!" She whispered, a smile growing on her face when she saw his eyes widen in awe as their child kicked. "Do you feel that?"
He nodded, tears springing to his eyes. "T-That's the first time we've felt our baby." He knelt down in front of her and eyed her bump. "Hi, Baby. It's your papa. Mon Dieu, you're so perfect and I haven't even seen you."
Mary laughed through her own tears, cupping his cheek lovingly. "Moments like this one, we keep to ourselves. Even if they're kicking so hard during a public event, we'll save it for when we're together. Our perfect, little family."
Francis grinned. "We may not have a white picket fence, but we have a dog and a golden toilet."
"Wait, what?" Mary asked, intrigued.
"It's at Fontainebleau. My father's quarters. I remember Lissie and I sneaking to use it once. Wasn't all that exciting-"
"It's a golden throne for a king!"
"Well, a toilet is a toilet-"
"It's gold!"
"It's cold," Francis said. "Honestly, I'm hyping it up too much. It's a boring old toilet and well, there."
Mary laughed. "I seriously need a big tour of Fontainebleau."
"You'll get it," her husband said with a chuckle. "I guess I should enlighten your mind to the fact that we have a secret zoo-"
"Now, you're taking the piss."
"Nuh-uh," he said, starting to take off his clothes as she watched him, one amused eyebrow up. "I'll show you, you might even see them within the stars you're going to see by the time we're done."
Mary's lips met his desperately.
...
Bash entered the room, nodding thanks to Rita who helped open the door for him as he held a tray between the crook of his elbow. He went over to the table in the corner of the room and turned on the main lights.
"How are you feeling?" He asked as the door closed.
"How do you think?" Kenna snapped.
He sighed. "You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry-"
"The baby needs to eat."
Kenna grabbed a pillow and covered her face, settling back into the bed. "Go away."
"I'm not mad," Bash said. "I understand why you kept that from me. I'm just surprised-"
"About what?" She asked, throwing the pillow onto the floor and sitting up to look at him. "Surprised that someone who looks like they can hold it together was admitted to a mental health hospital at seventeen?"
Bash cringed, walking up to the bed. "What Antoine did was disgusting. I would have preferred you to tell me in your own time if not at all. Your life is your life. I don't tell you things, why should I expect to know things from your past? All I know is that I love you, Kenna. You're a pretty decent person beneath the vanity and the fake persona you put on to make yourself likeable and seductive. You're quirky, you like singing at ungodly hours to yourself, you smile when you hear birdsong, you sneeze like a mouse, your humour is top level, you have great taste in alcohol, fashion and everything else and most of all, you're you."
Kenna smiled a little. "So, you don't think less of me?"
"Not at all," Bash said. "And I don't care what the media says about you. Even if they are telling the truth or not, I see you. They're not married to you, I am and I have the proof to show it. If anyone has something to say about you or me, then they can fuck right off."
"Thank God our baby doesn't have ears," she said lightly.
"Trust me, you'll be saying worse when I get into that bed," he replied.
She blushed. "Let me eat first."
"Ah-ha, so I am convincing," Bash said, grabbing the tray and bringing over to her.
"Sit down," she told him, gesturing to the space beside her feet.
"You want to eat, don't you?" He asked.
She giggled, biting into the pasta. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"You're glowing and I will make sure you feel loved until your other leg stops working."
"Knee," she corrected him.
He chuckled, remembering a memory. "Oh, right?" He kissed her lips and went over to the fireplace to light it. "I mean it. You won't be walking at all. You'll need the wheelchair."
"Don't be so sure about that," she replied sultrily. "I'll make sure both of your arms don't work."
Bash laughed, turning his head to send her a wink. "Forget about Antoine. He's being dealt with."
"How?"
"Peine de mort has been banned for over a decade but that changes today for certain crimes," Bash told her. "All cases viable for peine de mort will have to be not shown by the head judge but by the ruling monarch. Only they can select and reject cases and well, as my father and brother both despise Antoine, regardless of who is control, Antoine Bourbon will be served the death penalty."
Kenna gasped. "You're lying."
"When have I ever lied to you?" Bash asked, finishing up with the fireplace and walking back to the bed. "I mean it, Kenna, forget about him. All you should think about is shopping for an outfit for this baby shower we both have to attend."
She bit her bottom lip, a smile breaking out onto her face. "No guy has ever got a man to be killed lawfully for me."
"Well, that only happens when you marry a prince."
"I thought you weren't a prince?" Kenna asked, placing the tray onto her bedside table.
Bash tutted. He walked right into that one. "Well, things changed."
"Come here," she said, beckoning him over with a finger. "The pasta tastes disgusting anyway, I want a taste for something else. Something more... like a prince."
"How do you want him?"
"À la mode," she replied, picking up the tub of ice cream he had got for her for dessert.
Bringing his fingers to his top button, he said, "Coming right up."
