Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,244

waiting for me to grant permission for him to approach.

"Mr. Tuhana, please, take a seat."

Behind him the rest of the table began to follow, each curtseying or bowing until they had all been invited to sit.

I glanced at the clock on the far side of the dining room, mentally tallying the length of time it would take before I could escape. A headache had begun to build behind my right eye, a sure indication that I'd been exposed to far too much flash photography.

"Your Majesty? Coffee? Tea?" The senior waiter hovered at my elbow.

"Tea, peppermint if you have it. Also, if you could assist, I'd love if you could ask my assistant to call Thompson about the fountain. I quite forgot to do it today and it needs to happen tonight. She'll know what I'm asking for."

"Of course!" The waiter bowed, obviously thrilled to be of assistance. I wouldn't burst his bubble by telling him there was no fountain, the direction was a cleverly veiled code that indicated I needed some ibuprofen, quickly.

Experienced waiters refilled glasses and took coffee or tea orders then slipped away, leaving me with the final candidates.

I looked around the table taking stock of each of the faces before me. Conservatives and progressives were purposefully intermingled, a ploy on my behalf in an attempt to encourage bipartisanship. My biggest fear remained polarization of ideals, that our political system would become so corroded, so infested with personality and ego rather than integrity and community that we disintegrated into infighting.

Not on my watch.

I raised my wine glass, which had been filled throughout the night with sparkling water, offering the table a welcoming smile. "To the election. May the Gods be with you as you serve our people."

"And you," the table echoed, glasses clinking.

While we all drank, I considered the table, weighing who would be the best to engage first, who would guide the others to interact, who would be a problem, who I'd need to encourage.

A lifetime of training had gifted me with the ability to assess people with one glance. Rarely did they surprise me these days, and yet here I sat, surprised when it was not Mr. Tuhana who started the conversation but the meek Ms. Laney Hazelwood, an Independent.

"My Queen, you sent two bills back for debate—a virtually unheard of event. Do you expect to do the same with the new government?"

I caught sight of Victoria making her way to our table, moving in time to intersect the waiter carrying our dishes. In a practiced move she'd slip my pain medication onto the plate so when I lifted them to my lips no one would be the wiser.

A queen must never show weakness. That particular lesson had been drilled into me following my father’s funeral. Where my father had been praised for his vulnerability, I was scorned.

A woman cannot show emotion.

"A good question, Ms. Hazelwood. But one I'm afraid I can't answer. The circumstances of those two bills have little bearing on those brought to me in the future. I consider each on its own merit. But if you are asking will I continue this practice of returning them to the parliament, then the answer is yes. Every motion, every bill, every decision must be weighed against the good of the people. If I am not persuaded that it is the best option then I will return it for further work."

"Doesn't that overstep the role of monarch?" Ms. Hazelwood's companion asked, his expression dark and judging.

What the devil is his name? George? Geoff? Jim? Something like that. Either way, I don't like him.

"I quite think the role of the monarch is to unify. Unlike our British cousins, I'm honour bound to interject in the political sphere when the needs of the people aren't being met. Rarely has that been the case, but the recent introductions and overwhelming objection from the populace issued in the form of protests guided my decisions."

The man's lips twisted into a thin line and something glinted in his eye.

The waiter placed my dessert in front of me, the pills strategically hidden in the form of a dinner mint that had been added to the plate.

Gods bless, Victoria.

"Please," I reached for my spoon. "Let's eat."

I spooned a mouthful of the rich panna cotta, savouring the taste for a moment as the table began to eat. Temporarily distracted by their meal, I unwrapped my pain medication, quickly slipping it into my mouth and taking a sip of the sparkling water to down them.

They'd