“Hmm,” Alex said, but there was humour in her voice now.
“Mummy J,” Hyzzie said. “You look like you’re about to start issuing orders.”
Julia flicked her a look. “That’s because I am,” she said. “Here’s the plan. Vic, you are going to sit down, drink some water, and take three slow breaths before you do anything else. Alex, you are going to go back to the tree and spend time with the children. Erin…”
She turned to Erin, who was hovering on the edge of the group, clearly torn between wanting to help and wanting to vanish.
“Yes, Julia?” Erin said automatically.
“You’re coming with me,” Julia said. “Patel and I are going to split the problem into two fronts: logistics and optics. You’re logistics. Vic is… banned from direct contact with any poultry-related communication channels until she has calmed down.”
“I can hear you,” Vic cut in.
“I know,” Julia said. “That’s why I said it out loud.”
Alex smiled. “Delegation,” she said. “My favourite language.”
As the little knot of crisis began to uncoil, Julia felt a new, quieter resolve settle in her.
Vic was stretched too thin. Her perfectionism had gone from endearing to self-destructive. The rule about unscheduled affection was… not helping. The kids were picking up on the tension. Alex and Erin were being pulled in opposite directions.
Someone had to adjust the dials.
“Hyzzie,” she said, catching her daughter’s attention again. “New mission.”
Hyzenthlay straightened, eyes bright. “Codename?” she asked.
“Project: Keep Mummy From Exploding,” Julia said. “Phase One is getting her to hand me that clipboard voluntarily.”
“That’s impossible,” Hyz said.
Julia smiled. “Watch me.”
She squeezed Vic’s arm, feeling the jittery energy under her fingers, and thought: Enough. We’re not doing another year where the holiday eats us alive.
They could survive without turkeys. They could survive without a perfect timetable. What they could not survive—not without scars—was allowing the things meant to hold them together to pull them apart.
She met Alex’s gaze over Vic’s head. The Queen’s eyes were tired and amused and full of something like hope.
Julia nodded, once.
She was going to intervene.
For the turkeys.
For the tree.
For her wife.
And most of all, for the two women who’d once risked everything for love and now couldn’t get five minutes alone in a castle full of rooms.
Before this holiday was over, Vic’s ban on unscheduled affection was going to die a quiet death.
And if Julia had anything to say about it, Alex and Erin’s next attempt at a kiss would not be ruined by anyone, not even the ghost of a scheduled turkey.
9
ALEX
