by J. J. McAvoy
“This way, Miss Wyntor.” Mr. Ambrose directed me toward the double white doors, which were engraved from top to bottom. Outside were two guards, but they were different from Iskandar. They wore gray, soldier-like uniforms instead of the black suit he did. As we approached, they opened the doors, and I stepped into another wondrous and luxurious room under the watchful gaze of old portraits.
“The queen will arrive shortly. You may wait,” Mr. Ambrose said as I took in the new surroundings. The walls were colored white, but the trimmings were all gold. A single large decorative rug covered the whole room. There were five chandeliers because, why not. One was over a drawing table by the window, another by the piano at a different window, one above each entrance on both sides of the room, and the largest hung in the center. The furniture was a deep brown and stitched, and as I walked farther, I smelled lavender, but I noticed it was coming from the fireplace even though there was no fire.
Above the fire was a large portrait of a man and woman—no, the king and queen. However, it wasn’t Gale’s mother. The woman’s hair in the image was black, not red. And though the king looked similar to Gale’s father, it wasn’t him, either.
“Who are these people?” I asked.
“Those monarchs are King Cornelius IV and his wife, Queen Consort Arabella. They are the predecessors to His Majesty King Lionel III and Queen Consort Elspeth,” Ambrose answered, and I glanced back to see him standing with his head high and chest out. The tone in his voice rang out with pride...and slight annoyance. Was I supposed to know that?
“So, Gale’s grandparents?”
His lips twitched in obvious displeasure. “Royals may use nicknames among each other. However, when addressing anyone else, staff or the public, they must be called by their title and then their first Christian name. Therefore, he is Prince Galahad whenever you are speaking to anyone, not of the House of Monterey.”
“Okay then, so these are Prince Galahad grandparents.”
“Yes, they are,” he answered promptly. “Now, when the queen enters, you must stand. However, you do not need to curtsy again, as you have curtsied once for the day. This, of course, is unless you are at a formal function or dinner with the queen. This is the protocol you will need to remember at all times. All. Times.”
“So tomorrow, I will have to curtsy to her again?” I asked, sitting on the couch, really wishing I had chosen more comfortable shoes.
“Yes.” However, Ambrose was not the one who answered. The queen entered, so I stood right back up. She had changed into a dark-colored, long-pleated skirt and a simple blouse with pearls. The same older woman who I had seen with her this morning was still beside her now.
“How has everything gone so far?” she questioned, coming around the couch, tucking her skirt under before she sat down. “Please, sit.”
“I was told everything turned out well.” But I wasn’t sure.
She looked at Ambrose. “Have them send us copies as soon as possible. We will release them later in the week.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded as maids rolled in a cart of tea, pastries, and fruits. I was grateful, Gale and I had eaten at the hotel because I wouldn’t be okay with just this.
“Julianna, we will have the room now,” she said to the woman, and I now realized who it was that had been running around looking for a purple dress.
“The queen will have the room now,” Julianna stated to the rest of the people who had come in with her as if they had not heard the queen say those words herself.
Nevertheless, one by one, they cleared the room as the queen lifted her cup of tea. They fled as though they were escaping a burning building, and when they had all left, I sat up straighter.
“Please.” The queen outstretched her hand to the table.
“Thank you.” I did not like tea, but I also did not want to be awkwardly munching on food first. So, I took the drink.
“There is so much to say, Odette,” she said, and I sipped. “It was Arthur who convinced me that we needed you—for your money, that is. However, in my eyes, you had many things working against you.”
“Like?” I wanted to keep my questions and answers as short as possible, partially afraid I’d say the wrong thing.
“You’re upbringing for one.”
“Excuse me?” I nearly coughed up the tea I was drinking. “Ummm. I do not know how you think I was raised, but I was raised very well. Better than most people.”
“Yes, I am sure. But you were raised American, well off or not,” she stated back.
That was not where I thought she was going. However, I still did not like how she said it. “What is wrong with being American?”
“Americans are pompous, loud, arrogant, rude, and worst of all, hypocrites.”
I put the tea back onto the table because I was feeling like dumping it in a harbor.
Keep calm, Odette.
“I am sure those traits are not solely American.”
“No, but they are quintessential of Americans.”
And this was why American’s did not like royals!
“Maybe you should get to know us more—”
“Not us,” she said, lifting a cookie. “America is no longer your country. Ersovia is.”
I remembered Gale telling me I would have to give up my nationality. However, I was not expecting it this fast. Was my passport already invalid?
“I know giving up one’s nationality is hard. I am half Scottish. While I was born in Ersovia, I lived in Scotland until I was seventeen.” This time, when she spoke, I heard a clear and deep Scottish accent. I think she added it for my sake. “I moved to France to become a ballerina. That led me to my meeting then Prince Lionel Fitzwilliam Archibald III, Adelaar, and future King of Ersovia. To be with him, I had to give up Scotland. I had to give up dancing. I had to relearn how to speak, write, walk, even breathe. When I met Prince Lionel, I had to give up everything I was and hoped to be. Do you know what they gave me for efforts?”
“A crown?” I answered gently.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “And it seemed like a fair trade-off until I realized being queen consort is no more than being a glass doll. I am brought out when needed and put back in my case when I am not. This palace is my case, and no matter how big it is, it is hard to become a doll. But I did it because I love my husband. Do you love my son?”
“Do I need to? I thought you all just wanted my money?” I asked to avoid that question.
“When a queen asks you a question, my dear, you answer that question, no matter how personal you think it is. I cleared the room so you and I could speak openly and freely. So, do so,” she stated.
I did not like being ordered around like this. But the question came to my mind. Did I love him? No. That was impossible. I didn’t know him well enough. We’d barely spent time together. We’d been separated for months. There was no way I could be in love with him. All of that raced through my mind, and yet at the same time, I was nodding my head yes.
“You are not a bobblehead, my dear. Use words.”
“Yes, I think, I do,” I whispered. It didn’t make sense to me how. I just knew that I was happiest when I was next to him. Even this morning, despite all of the craziness happening around me, I found myself relaxing, joking, smiling with ease next to him. It really did feel like we just picked up from where we left off—somehow.
“Did I not tell you that you have to be decisive?” She was unrelenting. This was the woman Gale said was one of the sweetest people he had ever met. “You are going to have to come to terms with your feelings very quickly.”
I thought I was moving quickly enough. I wouldn’t have given into him so easily if I did not love him. It was insane how all he had to do was smile and say please, and I was diving back into his arms.
“Understandably, you are hesitant with your feelings as you two were thrown together by outside forces and separated by them as well. Maybe it will take more time. However, you must understand that during that time, you must change a
s Gale must.”
I tensed at changing. I did not want to lose myself in all of this. “Gale told me—”
“Whatever Gale told you, that was before he became the Adelaar. That was before you would end up being the future queen.” She paused and inhaled slowly before speaking. “Arthur’s death changed everything.” She paused again, and I could hear the emotion she was pushing down. She drank her tea before speaking. “I shall be honest with you, Odette. Had I known I would lose my firstborn, I would never have pushed my second toward you. It is not because I think you are a bad person or undeserving or that you will not make Gale happy. It is because Gale needs someone who can ease burdens beyond having a fortune. I do not know if you are aware, but over the last few months, he has not only been tasked with his duties as the Adelaar but is carrying on the duties of his father while he is ill. I am regent only to buy him more time to adjust. And now, you have come as added stress on his shoulders. But I cannot tell him not to do this because he already has. Which is why I am also upset that he gave me no time to give you your options.”
“My options?”
“Yes,” she said, putting everything she had in her hands back down. “If I had met you before this morning as all queens have done before, I would have told you what my predecessor told me. To be the queen, you must let go of who you think you are and be who your king, country, and children need you to be. That is a hard thing to do, especially in this modern era. And you have already jumped in, and there is no easy way out anymore. Everything you have learned, you need to relearn. And your teaching will have to go deeper because you are...”
“Black?”
Her shoulders dropped, and she frowned. “Sadly, yes. Forgive me for saying it, but it must be said. You will not be this country’s first choice. This is very new for everyone. And so, no mistakes will be tolerable.”
At least she was honest. I looked down at my hands. But was it possible for a person not to make a single mistake? I forced myself to pick up the tea, trying to find words. But honestly, even though I knew this—my mother warned me of this—it hurt to hear right out of the gate.
“Have I discouraged you?” she questioned carefully.
“Aren’t you trying to?”
“My dear, do know it is not about you. It is about us. You are engaged to the future king, yet you know nothing of the culture, the language, and the people, nor do you know any noble traditions or customs. On top of which, you were born into a society in which their ideology is against our existence.”
“Right, so what do we do then?” I said, trying to push down the panic that was rising in me again. It took me a few seconds, but the part of me that wanted to hold on to Gale began to rise. “I cannot change my skin color, so people will just have to get used to that. Everything else, however, I will learn and relearn because I can. Even though I am terrified, I won’t be intimidated. I am too stubborn for that. When someone tells me I cannot do something, it eats away at me until I prove them wrong. I know I can’t do anything except promise, but I do promise that you will see me diving headfirst into it with passion. So, these protocols I will get them, and I won’t be a burden to anyone. All I ask is for fairness.”
She watched me for a moment before reaching over to the side. She nodded, lifting a handbell that sat on the corner table, which I had thought was merely for decoration. When she rang it, the door opened, and Ambrose stepped back in.
“Ma’am?”
“Miss Odette will be selecting her personnel now. Prepare to bring them in,” she said to him, and he nodded, closing the door behind him. With that, her attention refocused on me. “I have instructed everyone in the palace to speak English while you are around until you have gotten used to your Ersovian lessons. I have been told that you have taken some already.”
Informed by who? When? “Yes, I can understand bits of conversations if I am looking at them. But I haven’t gotten the speaking part down yet.”
“If you can hear, you can speak. You will also take etiquette courses. From your upbringing and behavior, I assume you had them as a child?”
“Yes, including what my mother taught me for pageants.”
She did not look impressed at all. “Nevertheless, you will still be tested. Of course, the more you already know, the less we have to worry about. Your duty is simple, Odette—be an asset to the crown. Should you do this, not only will I be fair, I will be biased in your favor.”
Mr. Ambrose opened the door behind the queen, allowing six women in, who in truth looked almost identical. They were all slim and around my age, with their black, or blonde hair pulled back, dressed in a dark-blue dress and one-inch, black heels. They all curtsied to the queen in unison.
“There are things I must see to. I enjoyed our lunch. Now I will leave you in Ambrose’s capable hands,” she said, rising from her seat, and the women and Ambrose bowed their heads to her. She looked at me, and I realized I was still sitting, so I got up. “Live up to what you promised, Odette. We are all depending on it.”
That was all she said as she moved around the couch and toward the door where her assistant waited. When she was gone, I took a deep breath, my shoulders only relaxing slightly. Jesus, that was not comfortable at all.
“We will start with your assistant,” Ambrose spoke up because there was no resting today. “We can skip the secretaries—the Adelaar has chosen Wolfgang for you—and move on to your guard and then to your tutors. I have narrowed each group into six candidates for you to choose from.”
Wait. “All of these women are just candidates for the assistant role? There are other groups outside?”
He looked at me strangely. “Yes, of course. Would it not be confusing and uncomfortable to have them all in here at once?”
By that math, it meant he had over a dozen more people waiting outside for me to choose from.
“Shall we begin? You may wish to sit now, Miss Wyntor. This will take some time,” he stated, and slowly, I sank back down onto the couch.
He walked over to my side and faced the women all standing next to me.
“One by one, they shall all introduce themselves—name, place of birth, age, marital status, education, experience, and why they wish to serve you and how they will do so.”
“This is normal for every royal? Or potential royal?” I was going to get my own entourage.
“Yes.”
“All right then.” I nodded and signaled for the first woman to step forward, and it hit me for the fifth time that I was in a whole new world here. Meanwhile, in my old world, I still had not called my mother.
She was going to be pissed.
Chapter 8
“Today, we witness a historic moment. The future Queen of Ersovia will be a woman of African American descent. She will be the first African American queen to rule a European nation. Today, we have seen change by the hand of the monarchy—”
I flipped the channel.
“We are to be ruled by foreigners now—”
I flipped again.
“This is a day the world will never forget, the first black woman—”
Once more, I flipped.
“I hate to say it, my fellow citizens, but mark your calendars. Today is the day the monarchy died—”
“It is hard to understand what the crown is trying to tell us with this recent and sudden engagement. Some are saying it is far too sudden, and obviously, they must be hiding something. A pregnancy, perhaps? And before you say, ‘No, that is impossible,’ remember the prince we are dealing with. Prince Galahad has always been a playboy, and rumors of his escapades have been covered up by the palace for years—”
“The biggest question is what do the king and queen think of this American socialite—”
“Immediately, what came to mind was that she is no Grace Kelly—”
“This is a massive statement by the crown in choosing Odette Wyntor. They have stood for the equality and inclusion of all Ersovians. Proving there is strength in diversity. She is educ
ated, beautiful, and let us be all completely honest, rich, and the rumors of the crown’s financial situation say they might be in desperate need of that hard, green, American cash—”
“I told all of you that the day Prince Arthur passed away was the day the monarchy died and not to be fooled by Prince Galahad because he would never be able to live up to his brother. But everyone was fawning over this prince. Look at how handsome he is, look how hard he is working, he’s matured, you all said! You were wrong! I told you, he will let down you, that he would fail, and now look what he brings to the palace—”
I did not change the channel. Instead, it turned off by itself. I lifted the remote, trying to turn it back on, but it shut off again.
“You are supposed to be working, not watching this to drive yourself mad.”
I turned back to see my mother standing behind the couch. I moved to get up, but she held up her hand, stopping me. “You knew it was going to be like this. So why did you do it anyway?”
“I was hoping I was wrong,” I said as she sat beside me.
“There are other rich women, Ersovian women.”
“Not as rich.”
“We did not need them to be as rich, simply rich,” she stated.
And I did not want to hear her doubts, either. “If you are here, that means you finished lunch with Odette. Why are you trying to talk me out of it? Did you not like her?”
She frowned, shaking her head, and my heart just sank.
“Mother, give her a chance—”
“No, you misunderstand me. I do not dislike Odette, and I see why you like her,” she said with a look of displeasure. “She is beautiful and smart, but that is your standard. It is her boldness, her undeterred and stubborn manner of approach, and lastly, her openness to her flaws yet confidence, as well as her slight awkwardness that makes her endearing.”