“Yes, he did carry me here,” I admit, still annoyed with the fact that it was true. She motions to sit beside me; I fold my legs to accommodate her.
“So?” she beams, scooching closer to me. “What’s he like? How long have you guys been together?” I consider her question, piecing together my memories of being held hostage, chased through a bush, pressed against a door, and swung through the air like a ragdoll, only for His Grace to be praised all the same. In short, he’s insufferable and we have been since this evening. However, that’s not what I say.