grand stairs, venturing down a corridor lined with rooms. The chambers were perfect, luxurious. But after a while, I couldn’t tell the difference between them, all having the same elegant, stuffy design.
We went through a set of double doors, a guard standing at the entrance. I knew the king and queen opened the main part of the castle to tourists during the summer while they headed to one of their summer palaces. But the season had ended, with them returning home. When they were here, it was closed to visitors. But their private quarters were always off limits to tours. I was venturing into an area very few got to see.
Lennox and the door guy nodded at each other but didn’t speak. A few doors down, Lennox turned to face me.
“The private drawing room, ma’am.” Lennox motioned me into a room.
I stepped into the space. It was smaller than the staterooms in the public area. Velvet sofas and chairs faced a huge fireplace on one side. Rich tapestries hung on two of the walls, making it feel slightly cozier. Enormous paintings, a mix of old royalty and Greek mythology, covered most of the walls. The same perfect white flowers on a table by windows covered in sheer drapes.
Lennox stayed in the doorway, watching me take in the room.
“His Highness will be with you shortly.”
I didn’t even bother acknowledging him, as he was already shutting the doors, leaving me alone in the room. Too itchy to sit, I wandered around, examining the paintings and objects in the room. I brushed at my dress nervously. I never wore dresses or heels if I could help it; I was a jeans-and-riding-boots kind of girl. I figured this occasion more than called for it, but I felt uncomfortable. The dress I was wearing was one my mother was insistent on. It was the most conservative thing I owned, a pretty pastel pink, which I hated. It also was from when I was heavier. Even though a tailor took it in, it still felt unpleasant and stiff. My matching pink heels were even worse.
I was like a walking bubblegum ball.
Reaching the windows, I looked through, seeing half the gardens and a view of the city. The late-afternoon sun glinted off the old and new buildings in the city. Tall towers, steeples, and famous landmarks all could be seen from here. People moving up and down the four-lane street leading away and to the palace, going on with their lives, while I stood there and watched them from inside.
It felt odd. I was more one of them than someone who’d be standing here. In the palace… about to be introduced to the queen and king.
“Don’t vomit, Spencer,” I ordered myself.
“Please don’t. The rug is an antique and would be very difficult to clean.” A woman’s eloquent voice came from behind me, and I lurched around, my hip knocking the table. In horror, I watched in slow motion as the vase with flowers tipped over, crashing onto the table, water and pieces of the vase spilling everywhere.
“Oh, holy shite!” I cried, grabbing for the wreckage. Bits of the pretty vase cut my hands, the water sweeping between my fingers. My efforts were only making it worse, getting my dress soaked in the process.
“Please.” She came closer. “Leave it. I will have someone clean it up.”
My face burned as I clumsily set down the broken pieces, bile and mortification fighting in my stomach. This can’t be happening. I squeezed my lids together before taking a deep breath and spinning around.
“You must be Spencer, the girl my son has talked about excessively for the last few days?”
“Yes.” I swallowed, bending my legs into a curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
I just broke what was probably a family heirloom, cursed, and looked like I peed on myself all in a matter of seconds in front of the Queen of Great Victoria.
Way to go, Spencer. Way to not be awkward…
Queen Catherine, in all her gorgeous and flawless splendor, stood there watching me, not a gleam of what she might be thinking or feeling near the surface.
Dressed in a deep blue knee-length silk dress and tan heels, she was tall and lean, with the most delicate swan neck and dainty wrists. Her long, silky brown hair was coiled into a low bun. She possessed a wide mouth, green eyes, and high cheekbones, and she oozed elegance like it was a perfume she put on. She looked nowhere near her forty-three years. It was like the