It's all just good fun.

"The man is harmless," you whisper to her behind the note. "He may be a drunkard and a man of poor taste, but harmless. Don't worry about him."

"Are you reading all of this tripe?" hisses Rosalia. "He keeps talking about my breasts and my...my legs, and...and other parts! This can't be an acceptable way to talk about their princess!"

"They say these things about everyone," you tell her soothingly. "Every lord and lady gets a few songs sung about them every now and then. And besides, you should feel lucky that he's singing about your fetching looks instead of anything nastier."

"Anything nastier? This is smut! Filth! I don't-"

"Listen to me," you cut in. It's an unthinkable breach of etiquette for a lady's maid to interrupt her mistress, let alone a princess, but her mouth snaps quiet. "If you become frustrated now, all people will hear is how fragile and prudish their new princess are. They'll focus on it because they'll think it's a weakness, and it's all you'll hear about for years to come."

"Or you embrace it and let the people have their fun, and they'll forget about it by the end of the week. All you need to do is put on a display of understanding." She gulps nervously but you hush her. "Remember that you need them. You need them to like you. That's where your power comes from. So trust me when I say that this is going to be good for you in the long run."

She nods. Very slightly, and grudgingly, but she nods, and you have to stop the smile from widening on your face. She trusts you enough to let the the common people mock her. How far can you push her?