Clemmie’s hands flew straight to her beating chest. ‘I wish Granny was here to see all this.’
‘Cucumber sandwich?’ he asked.
Clemmie laughed. ‘Of course!’
Nibbling cucumber sandwiches they strolled towards the main lawn where uniformed attendants were handing out ice-creams. Clemmie took one, its cool sweetness a welcome treat in the afternoon sun. She and Oliver found a shaded bench near the rose garden and sat for a moment, soaking up the atmosphere and watching the ebb and flow of the elegantly dressed crowd.
‘What do you think so far?’ Oliver asked.
Clemmie smiled, gazing at the lake in the distance where swans glided gracefully across the water. ‘It’s all just magical. Imagine actually living here.’ She looked over towards the palace.
Oliver’s expression softened as he pointed towards a lady standing beneath the shade of a nearby tree. She wore an exquisite lavender suit with subtle embroidery along the edges, a matching hat adorned with delicate feathers perched elegantly on her silver hair. Her posture was straight, her every movementpoised, as though she had been born to inhabit such a setting. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘I need to introduce you to Lady Rosalind.’
Lady Rosalind turned, her face lighting up the second she spotted him. She extended her arms towards him and he stepped forward and embraced her tightly, a movement that spoke of years of affection and familiarity.
‘My dear boy,’ she said, her voice low and melodious, carrying the unmistakable tone of someone used to addressing rooms filled with people. ‘It’s been far too long.’
‘You look as radiant as ever,’ Oliver replied with an easy charm that made Clemmie smile.
Lady Rosalind chuckled, then turned her attention to Clemmie. ‘This must be Clemmie,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’
Clemmie felt her cheeks flush. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Lady Rosalind,’ she said, offering her hand.
Lady Rosalind waved it away and pulled her into a gentle hug instead, her embrace unexpectedly warm. ‘Congratulations on winning The Royal Baking Competition,’ she said, stepping back but still holding Clemmie’s hands. ‘That torte of yours has been the talk of the royal kitchen. We can’t wait to taste it.’
Clemmie’s blush deepened. ‘Oh, thank you. It’s all been such a whirlwind.’
‘Well, enjoy every moment of it, my dear,’ Lady Rosalind said, her smile encouraging.
Before Clemmie could respond, another woman joined them, her presence just as commanding. She wore a classic cream dress with pearls around her neck. Her silver hair was styled perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with delight as she looked at Oliver.
‘Ah, Granny,’ Oliver said, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. ‘I knew you couldn’t be far away.’
‘Granny?’ Clemmie exclaimed, turning to him in surprise. ‘You didn’t tell me you had family here!’
The woman laughed, her voice rich and full of life. ‘This one is as slippery as they come,’ she said, her tone affectionate as she gestured towards Oliver. ‘Always keeping his royal connections close to his chest.’
Oliver grinned. ‘I like to keep a little mystery. Granny, this is Clemmie, and Clemmie, my granny, Bunny.’
Just at that moment, there was a sudden shift in the energy of the crowd and a ripple of anticipation swept through the guests. Guards in traditional uniforms, complete with bearskin hats, marched onto the lawn, forming two long lines that created a clear path through the centre of the gathering. Clemmie’s pulse quickened.
‘They’re coming,’ Oliver murmured, his voice calm but tinged with excitement.
The band began to play the national anthem and the Royal Family began to emerge from the palace. Clemmie recognised Queen Charlotte immediately. She was resplendent in a soft pastel ensemble that perfectly complemented her regal bearing and gracious demeanour. She made her way down the line, pausing to speak with guests, her genuine interest evident in every interaction. Beside her were other members of the Royal Family, their elegant attire and approachable manners adding to the magic of the moment.
Clemmie and Oliver moved closer, positioning themselves near the front of the line. As Queen Charlotte approached, Clemmie’s nerves surged. The Queen stopped just a few feet away to chat with a couple dressed in matching shades of blue, and Clemmie couldn’t help but marvel at how relaxed and personable she seemed.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Clemmie whispered to Oliver, her cheeks flushed. ‘I feel so nervous.’
Oliver squeezed her hand gently. ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve met her.’
The Queen turned towards them, her gaze alighting on Oliver with recognition. A smile spread across her face as she extended her hand. Oliver bowed slightly, then took her hand, shaking it briefly but with evident respect.
‘Your Majesty,’ Oliver said, his voice steady.
‘Oliver,’ the Queen replied, her smile widening. ‘It’s always a pleasure to see you.’ Then, with a playful glint in her eye, she added, ‘No doubt Lady Rosalind and your grandmother are sneaking the sherry from the drinks tent. I’m envious.’
Clemmie chuckled, the Queen’s unexpected humour catching her off guard.
