Fighting With the Infuriating Prince by Elizabeth Lennox Page B

behavior earlier this afternoon.  It was inexcusable and inappropriate.”
    Tasir was stunned.  And impressed.  He had been fully prepared to resume their conflict where they’d left off before.  And in an odd way, was he actually disappointed?  He’d been bracing for another battle and she was conceding the war? 
    He could do nothing less.  Bowing slightly, he followed her lead.  “I was horribly rude as well, Your Highness.  Please, call me Tasir and let us be finished with hostilities.  Our countries have been friends for decades.  We shouldn’t be the ones to draw the battle lines.”
    Jalayla smiled and her shoulders relaxed, grateful that he was conceding as well. 
    She nodded to the servants and he pulled out her chair then waited for her to be seated before he moved to the opposite side of the table, taking his own seat.  Picking up her wine glass, she struggled to find a non-controversial subject to discuss.  “How is your mother?” she started off, almost groaning with the lameness of her conversational gambit. 
    “My mother is doing well,” he replied, leaning back so that the servant could deliver the first course.  “I will mention your inquiry to her.”
    Silence. 
    “And your uncle?” she prompted.  “I know that he’s been recovering from heart surgery.”
    Tasir almost laughed but he didn’t want her to stop.  She looked too adorable trying to come up with a topic to discuss that wouldn’t devolve into an argument.  “He, too, is doing well.  Thank you for asking.”
    More awkward silence. 
    She carefully sliced up the crostini topped with caramelized onions and camembert cheese while she searched her brain for yet another topic for discussion.  He certainly wasn’t helping at all, she thought with increasing annoyance.  “I’ve read several reports about the decline in violence in many of your urban areas.  Congratulations.  That must be a huge boon to your economy.”
    He took a taste of his crostini but wasn’t really interested in the food.  He found himself fascinated by the woman trying valiantly to control her temper even though he was doing everything he could to spark it.  She was a charming woman, he thought.  “The inhabitants of the urban areas are starting to find ways to amuse themselves other than causing problems.”
    That was all he was going to say?  She dropped her eyes so that he couldn’t see her temper.  Taking a deep breath, she carefully laid her knife and fork down on the plate.  “I’m sure that starting to eliminate poverty must make you and your father feel very proud,” she offered.
    Tasir shook his head. “Our policies only ease some of the people who fall below the middle class income level.  There will never be any way to eradicate poverty.  It is part of life.”
    Jalayla’s heart fired up with those words.  She worked hard to help the poverty-stricken areas of the capital city of Tularia.  She showed up to help in the soup kitchens, talked to the various people who frequented those establishments and tried to find a solution that would help their plight. 
    “Isn’t that a rather cynical outlook?  As the future ruler of your country, shouldn’t it be your goal to try and create a level playing field for all citizens?”  She tried very hard to tamp down her anger, but the patronizing look he shot across the table zapped her patience. 
    “Your heart might be in the right place, princess, but your goals are unrealistic.  Poverty is part of the world and will never be eliminated.  We can only try to curb the violent tendencies of those who would prefer to live off of their illegal efforts and harm those that are more vulnerable, such as people in the lower income levels.  Anyone who thinks that poverty can be stamped out is living in a fantasy world.”
    Jalayla stiffened.  He was using her title in a patronizing manner and she didn’t like it.  Furthermore, he had no idea that he was insulting her