losing myself. My independence. Now, I see I will have to give up some of my independence if I stay with Xander, but I will find ways to put myself into what I have to do. Some people will hate it and criticise me. Yet others will applaud it.
The only person I can be is myself, I think.
And within minutes, Queen Antonia will get to know me as this woman, too.
I leave the bathroom and head down the stairs, the old wood creaking under my heels as I do. The cottage is so quiet, as Xander is over at Christian’s house, waiting for me to ring the second Queen Antonia leaves. I can see him in my head, irritated and scowling because he’s not here to jump in and rescue me if it gets rough. He’s so protective of me, and I love that quality about him more than I can ever say. No matter what happens, I know Xander will always fight for me. That my happiness and well-being are his biggest concerns.
Nobody has ever loved me like this. This fiercely or passionately.
And part of him loving me is letting me do this on my own, even though he hates the idea. Because while he loves me, he also respects me and my independent streak.
Even if he’s cursing it to Christian right now, I think with amusement.
I head into the kitchen and begin plating all of the items for tea. I bring them into the living room, carefully arranging them on the coffee table. Then I go back to the kitchen and pour some water from the kettle into a china teapot to warm it. I dump that out. Next, I measure the oolong tea and put it in the teapot. I pour the hot water over the top and return to the living room, placing it on the table. I rearrange a few items on the tray, and then I re-fluff the cushions on the sofa. There. I’m as ready as I will ever be. I exhale, and the second I do, the doorbell rings.
I freeze. My heart crashes into my stomach. While I know I wanted this meeting, while I know what I have to do, it doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying. I bite my lip and rub my palms on my dress. Queen Antonia can’t know I have any fears about this, so I try to remove the physical evidence as I approach the door.
I put my hand on the knob, draw a deep breath of air, and exhale.
Then I open it.
Queen Antonia stands before me, and Lord, she’s the most stunning woman I have ever seen in my life. The pictures of her online don’t even capture a fraction of how she is in the flesh. Her raven-black hair, the hair that is the same shade as Xander’s, is pulled back into her signature chignon, not a single strand of hair on her head out of place. She’s wearing her signature sheath dress, this time opting for one that is a pale cream colour. A multi-strand of pearls adorns her neck, coordinated with her earrings. She has a clutch bag under her arm, and her mouth drawn into a tight line.
My eyes meet hers. They are the same beautiful inky blue that Xander has.
But that is where the similarity ends.
While Xander’s eyes usually express mischief or happiness, love and affection, Queen Antonia’s radiate cold. A chill goes down my spine as I hold my gaze steady on hers.
I see nothing but pure hate flickering in them.
I immediately dip into a deep curtsy and rise. “Your Majesty, thank you so much for accepting my invitation.”
She stares daggers at me. “It’s not like I had much of a choice now, is it?”
I ignore the comment. “Please, come in, Your Majesty,” I say, stepping aside.
Queen Antonia walks stiffly past me, her posture board-straight as she steps inside the cottage.
“I thought we could take tea in the living room and chat for a bit,” I say, smiling at her.
She turns on her heel, her eyes dark with fury. “We will not be taking tea together, now or ever. I am here because you forced my son to blackmail me. But this will be the last time you wield that kind of power over my son.”
I begin to sweat, but I refuse to shake.
Because I will never let her see how nervous I am right now. Although my heart is pounding, I keep a serene expression on my face.