The designs for the crowns are actually coming along faster than the rings. I tried to protest them again, but Jean-Claude said, “You are queen to my king.”

“I thought I was your general.”

“That, too, and if you wish I can have a uniform tailored for you and you can play general to my oh-so-grateful nobleman.”

I told him I didn’t need a uniform, but thanks.

“I’ve never had a woman in uniform before,” he said, and I watched the thought fill his eyes. Why do I think that when I get measurements for the wedding gown, there’ll be plans for some uniforms, too? I don’t really mind; after all, he dresses up for me.