The Prince's Bride Part 2 - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,47

day.” Elspeth snickered.

“We have gone beyond conspiracy and now entered full-blown defamation of character,” Gale complained, looking at me seriously. “I—”

“I cannot even imagine it,” I said sarcastically to him. “You are the sweetest and warmest man I have ever known.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ugh, Mother, make them stop. We are trying to eat.” Eliza groaned but enjoyed teasing us both.

She opened her mouth, but she did not get a chance to speak as the doors opened. We all looked up as a beautiful brunette woman stepped inside, dressed in all black. Her eyes were gray, her lips pink, on her finger was a large diamond, and on her chest was a diamond brooch I had seen before. It was the Monterey crest. In her brunette hair was a black ribbon bow.

“Sophia,” Elspeth said her name in surprise.

The woman, Sophia, curtsied elegantly and with ease. “Your Majesty, I beg your pardon for arriving so late for dinner.”

“Come, my dear, I am pleased you could join us.” When Elspeth stood, we all rose as well as she ordered one of the butlers, “Bring another chair.”

I did not understand since there was an empty chair beside me on both sides, but I did not speak. Gale and Eliza both offered her a slight smile and nodded as we all waited for the butlers to shift the chair.

“Excuse me, miss,” one of them said as he moved my seat down one more along with the table settings, placing another chair in the middle space now beside me.

“Odette.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I looked up to the queen, eyes wide she directed her attention to the woman now standing beside her.

Her gray eyes were cold and staring at me.

“This is Sophia De Loutherbergh, the Duchess of Elmburgh. Arthur’s wife.” She paused before saying again, “Arthur’s widow.”

That was it.

There was a woman at the funeral dressed in all black with a black veil. I could not tell who she was. Though I was not really looking for her anyway.

“Sophia,” Elspeth said to her. “This is Odette Rochelle Wyntor, Gale’s fiancée.”

“Good evening,” I said to her politely, not sure what I was supposed to do.

She spoke back in Ersovian. I did not know if a voice could sound perfect, but hers seemed to sound that way to me even though I did not catch what she was saying.

“Sophia, she has not yet learned Ersovian, so we shall all be speaking English for now,” Elspeth said to her before her eyes met the butlers. “Please sit.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Sophia said, walking over and standing beside me, a sweet flowery scent coming off her.

We all waited for Elspeth to sit before sitting ourselves. Before I even realized she did not have one, a plate was brought out and then placed in front of her.

“Thank you, Parsworth,” she said to the butler.

He smiled slightly and nodded before he backed into the corner.

The once lively and joyful atmosphere around the table vanished, and everyone ate quietly. Every once in a while, each of them glanced at Sofia and then went back to eating their soup. Because of that lack of conversation, we finished quickly, the butlers taking it and bringing out the next course.

Duck breast over what smelled like cranberries with potatoes and vegetables. Again, my mouth watered. But I glanced over the table to find them quietly staring down, all of them lost in their thoughts. The air was thick with grief, and I could not stand it. I looked to see anything I could comment on before speaking.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked.

But instead of easing a conversation, they all froze, stiffening. Gale met my eyes, and he looked, well, I did not know that look. The queen ate as if I hadn’t spoken.

“The king always has a seat at the table, whether he is here or not,” Sophia answered coldly while cutting into her duck, not sparing me a glance, either. “The other seat is for Arthur. It is customary to keep a seat for a recently departed member of the royal family during the period of mourning.”

Silence again.

“Thank you for telling me,” I said gently, trying not to sound as dumb as I did for asking the question. I should have stopped talking, but something wouldn’t let me. Maybe it was the look on Gale’s face. Perhaps it was how much I hated awkward situations. I glanced back to Gale, seeing he had stopped eating and was looking at the empty chair in front of him. And I

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