You sit in an armchair across from me. Your clothes are freshly starched and tidy. It's always nice for people to do that. Many don't go out of their way for me like this. You smile sweetly at me as you sip your tea. You said you aren't much of a tea drinker and it shows every sip you take. You look pained. I like to think it's the tea not the guards everywhere or the fact I refused to let you record me. It's just bitter tea. You have a small note pad in you lap. That won't be enough at all. Not if I truly tell you anything. You're the first to not expect me to sing like a canary. You're realistic. You haven't asked me anything yet, just sat there staring at me. You said you've never seen royalty with as many scars as me which is understandable. Most haven't seen or done the things I have.
"You weren't always royalty, were you?" You speak softly. I shake my head just as softly.
"I was chosen for this role." I said point blank. Your eyes grew slightly. Was it because that's the first time I answered that question or because it wasn't what you expected? I guess I'll never know.
"Who chose you?"
Finally, the question I've been waiting for.
"The man in the suit."