594 Pepper please- Part 3

The smile on Calhoun's lips didn't die down, and a small chuckle escaped his lips, "You seem upset...grandmother," and Morganna's eyes flared. 

"I.Am.Not.Your.Grandmother," the Queen accentuated every word. "A person who belongs to the whore."

"My my, I should tell the King how you are calling him to be a whore," not that it was wrong because King Laurence had many affairs with women in the past. 

"ENOUGH!" 

The silverware on the table cluttered as Morganna stood up from her chair, and she glared at Calhoun. If her eyes could burn things, Calhoun would have turned to ash. "Don't try to cross your line here. You forget I am still the mother Queen, and one word is enough to let you know where you belong," and her eyes moved to look at the floor. 

Without replying to what Morganna said, Calhoun, who was done sprinkling enough pepper on his chicken, he placed the pepper bottle's cap back on it. The noise of the cap being turned filled the room once again, and the older vampiresses in the room looked more than annoyed by this action. 

Nobody had ever upset Morganna the way this boy's presence did in the dining room. 

Calhoun's head tilted to the side, and he noticed the excess amount of pepper that was on his plate. Leaning forward, with one blow of his mouth, most of the pepper scattered on the table, turning it messy. 

Before anyone could tell anything, King Laurence walked past the entrance of the dining room, and he noticed his mother standing at the table at her seat. 

"Everything alright, mother?" questioned Laurence, his eyes moving to look at the other people in the room who had stood up. Calhoun was the first one to bow his head, and he said, 

"Grandmother was making toast for my arrival at the castle, and saying how happy she is to have a grandson like me," his face had turned back to a calm one as if he weren't smiling a while ago. 

"Seems like we should but before that," stated King Laurence looking at his mother, "Calhoun has a lot to learn, and we can then toast and celebrate. Let's keep it until then, yes, mother? Seems like you are more excited to have him here than I," he laughed before taking the seat at the head of the table. 

When Morganna sat down gingerly without causing any scenes, her gaze shifted to look at Calhoun who looked back at her. He brought the meat towards his mouth and took a bite from it before a subtle smile appeared on his lips. 

Lucy went to her study room where her governess was waiting for her. The woman wore glasses on her face, and her hair was tied up into a bun without letting a single piece of her hair down. She appeared to be somewhere in her late twenties. 

"Good morning, Lady Lucy. It is a pleasure to finally make acquaintance with you, I have been eager to meet you. I am Deborah Lewis, but you can call me Ms. Lewis," the woman introduced herself,  stepping forward, she leaned and air kissed Lucy on both her cheeks. 

"Why don't we take a seat and start with your studies right away," the woman placed her hand on Lucy's back. "There's no time to waste. It is time to fix your ways and turn you to a fine and refined lady."

"I know the way to the study table," said Lucy, pushing the woman's hand away from her back and she offered her governess a polite smile. She walked towards the table and sat down. 

She would have acted normal if she hadn't heard her mother and the governess speak to each other last night. In the end, she was only a pawn to be used, and there was no more value in their eyes for her, Lucy thought to herself sadly. 

The governess rolled her eyes over the princess' attitude, and she followed Lucy before pulling out a book and placing it on the table. "Have you gone through the poetry, Lady Lucy?"

"It is unnecessary to study poetry," claimed Lucy, "I am not going to write a poem for someone when words can be easily conveyed."

"That is where you are wrong, Lady Lucy" replied Ms. Lewis. "Poetry is not about big or flowery words, but it is expressing emotions. To play with words by using metaphors and personification. Reading in between lines, that only certain people can while some are lost. Years ago, people wrote poems to pass messages, because the information couldn't be passed through a lay man's words, with the fear of losing their life or head," explained Lucy's governess. 

"And, poetry is very important when it comes to expressing your emotions to the other person." 

"I thought it was men's job to write poems and please us women," frowned Lucy. "And if a suitor wants my hand in marriage, I believe he will be satisfied without any poems written by me as my father is the King, the suitor would be showered with money handsomely."

The governess widened her eyes, "Milady, that is wrong usage of words. The proper words are, whoever marries you, will receive betrothal gifts."

"That is what I meant," muttered Lucy under her breath before pulling the book and flipping the pages.