“About Imani. What a privilege it is to raise her.” She followed him through a paneled door down a back staircase.
“She’s lucky to have you. Truly.”
“Raising Imani is a great calling. I thought I had to be famous or rich to do good in the world. Your calling is grand and great, on a world stage. Mine is small and focused, on a small stage.”
“Don’t minimize your efforts while inflating mine. The best duty of any royal is to raise their children to have integrity and character. Especially because of their prominence.”
“As they say,” Gemma said, “the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. Or in my case, the hand that raises a solid, healthy teen.”
In the stairwell, lit with a row of recessed lighting, they were more alone than they’d ever been. The feelings between them popped and stirred.
“You changed me, you know,” John began his confession. “I wasn’t sure there was life after Holland and you showed me hope. You saved me, Gemma. Saved the king.”
“You reminded me anything is possible. As long as we set our sights on reality.” Gemma squeezed his hand. “I’ll always treasure knowing you, Prince.”
“Treasure knowing me? You make me sound like a chap you danced with at one of your proms.”
“It’s fitting. Because when it was all said and done, we left school to follow our own path.”
“And never the two shall meet.”
“Exactly.”
“The trouble is, Gemma Stone, we did meet. And it may surprise you to know because it surprises me, I’m not sure I can easily forget.”
* * *
Men in dark suits stood when they entered the Queen’s Waiting Room, bowing to John and giving her the once-over.
The room was lavish with a thick, emerald carpet, tapestry on the wall, a portrait of a former monarch. In the far corner, two men watched a crime show rerun, while two others watched the door.
John introduced her as she chose the nearest chair. The men in black merely nodded.
“Let me check on things in the queen’s room. Then you can come in.”
“Me?” She shook her head. “I’ll wait here.” It was one thing to chat with John’s father and sister-in-law in his apartment, but she’d not meet the queen when she was ill. And not in the emotional swirl of seeing her daughter for the first time since her birth.
“Are you sure?”
“This is Scottie’s moment. Please tell her I’m here if she needs me but I won’t interrupt.”
When he’d slipped out, Gemma texted Imani.
“How’s everything with Memaw and Pops?”
“Playing cards tonight. Learning canasta. Miss you.”
“The herd?”
“Fat and happy. Herc misses you. Some folks are coming tonight to look at puppies.”
“Inspect them well. Ask a lot of questions.”
“Pops knows them. Says they’re good stuff. How’s the prince? Did you meet the queen? Penny says to get a selfie with her.”
“Prince John is very well. And no, I will not get a selfie with the queen. This trip was for Scottie not me. Tell Mama and Daddy hi. Kiss them and all the herd for me. Even the mean Miss Frances.”
“You can kiss her yourself when you come home. Memaw and Pops say they love you.”
