Amel’s attention fixed on the book of verse Dela still held, fast, in both hands. He tilted his head as if to read the title.
"It’s Princess Darleema," Dela confessed, trying to hide the book with her shifting hands. "I find her entertaining. For casual reading, of course. I like Fahandlin best, but —"
"— He is a bit complex in places," Amel finished for her, structuring the 'he' for Fahandlin as if Amel, himself, was a commoner. He frowned. "I'm sorry," he corrected his confusing grammar. "I read Fahandlin first when I was — that is when I thought I was a commoner. You've been told the story?"
Dela nodded. He addressed her rel-to-pol, graciously leaving out the emphasis of a one-step differencing suffix.
"It must have been terrible for you," she said. She meant to accept his offer to be casual by speaking in undifferenced pol-to-rel. But somehow she just couldn't, and left in the differencing suffix.
He looked disappointed. "Parts of it were terrible," he said. "Parts of being Pureblood haven't gone so well, either."
She wished that she could cry out, "Oh, I didn't mean that I don't like you!". But it was too late to drop her suffixes. He might not understand what she meant by doing it after the initial offer to speak casually had been turned down.
Outside the door, the voice of the Dem'Vrellish woman, Sen, said firmly, "No, I do not want refreshments." Amel tensed. "I had better go, Your Highness." He spoke with formal accuracy now, himself.
"You can't!" Dela panicked. "I have to make you marry me to keep Dee in the ruling family!"