"Princess, the Crown Prince is here to see you," Tasha whispered, her voice barely audible as she shot a furtive glance toward the outer office, where Dora presumed Prince Rafael was waiting.
Dora's frown deepened. "He's here? Did you schedule an appointment with him?"
"Me?" Tasha's eyes widened in disbelief. "After all those rumors? Do I have a death wish? Do I want to get fired by the Prime Minister? Of course not! I refused the moment his office called to request a meeting. I told them you were too busy, even made up a whole string of excuses. But here they are—showing up without warning, no less!" Tasha's voice was tight with frustration, her teeth visibly clenched.
