The walk from my dad’s old Mercedes to the palace steps hadn’t been far, but the brutal November cold had gonestraight to my bones. A nice cup of tea would help warm me up and hopefully settle my nerves as well.
Oliver and Isobel led the way down a long corridor, the walls lined in priceless paintings. I had attended a handful of royal functions with my dad as a child and could never get over the beauty of the palace. The vast doorways with their trimmings of gold contrasting against the cream walls had amazed me as a young girl. I had imagined what it would be like to slide down the sparkling banister of the grand staircase or search for hidden passageways. I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that Oliver had grown up here, the same way I had grown up in our modest home with its worn-in leather couch and my childhood photos lining the walls.
Back in university, I had known intellectually that Oliver was a prince. But when we were studying with his used textbooks in his comfortable flat, it had been easy to forget the presence of the security guards outside the door or that he came from such wealth.
“Here we are,” Queen Isobel said as she opened a white door into a quaint room decorated in soft blues and creams. A table set with three place settings sat close to a large bay window. The curtains were drawn back to let in the sunlight, giving the illusion that it was warm outside. A small fireplace on the opposite wall crackled with a modest fire.
Oliver leaned in, whispering into my ear as Queen Isobel spoke with one of the palace staff, “Gram was meant to join us, but she and Rosie have their weekly poker lesson.” I snorted a soft laugh. “They tell my parents they’re ‘discussing poetry and literary classics,’ but that’s a load of shit.” He winked as Queen Isobel glided over to us.
I bit the inside of my lips together, schooling my face into neutrality. Everything I had seen of Oliver’s grandmother sofar had indicated that she was a delight and a force to be reckoned with.
Oliver pulled out a chair first for his mother, then for me, indicating for me to sit before taking his own seat. He lifted the teapot and poured each of us a cup.
“Adelaide, how is this school year going?” Queen Isobel asked as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea.
The scent of bergamot wafted over me as I lifted the delicate cup. I preferred my tea black, a fact that my dad found baffling. “Thank you,” I said to Oliver before answering the queen. “It’s going quite well. We’re getting ready for our annual donation drive, so that’s been a big focus for me. And I’ve got such a delightful group of students in my class this year; they’ve been so fun to teach.”
I was grateful my headteacher was a fair and supportive boss. She had gladly agreed to find coverage for the handful of workdays I would miss due to competition events, allowing me to keep teaching throughout this circus.
“Oh, how wonderful.” Queen Isobel paused, her hand hovering over the handle of her cup. “I wanted to have tea with you today to apologize for Xavier and the horror he caused at the gala. I hope that you were still able to make enough money from the silent auction and that dear man and his wife are doing well. I hate that we weren’t able to stay long and help raise more money.”
Queen Isobel’s eyes glossed over with withheld tears. Acting on instinct, I placed my hand on top of hers and give it a light squeeze.
“Thank you for that. But you needn’t apologize. The generous donation you gave to the school, and the care package you sent the Tsotaddle family afterward, were both greatly appreciated. All is forgiven and forgotten.”
She nodded and a strand of her red hair slipped frombehind her ear. As she went to tuck it back into place, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.
“I still wish there was a way that we could redo that evening. The space was so lovely, and I could tell that you had put in so much work.”
My stomach tightened at the thought of that night. WouldIredo it if I could? Would I take back slipping into the closet with Oliver?
I looked at Oliver and our eyes met. Were we thinking the same thing, about how nice those fleeting moments in the closet had been? I broke our eye contact but couldn’t help looking down to his mouth. It had felt amazing to have his lips on me again. The way he had held me so tightly and knew exactly what I loved had felt like coming home.
“Mum?” Oliver said, looking back to his mother. “I just thought of the perfect way to make it up to Adelaide.”
“You have my attention.” She sipped her tea.
“Mine as well,” I added, curious to hear what he was about to suggest.
“Let’s take the family to the school’s annual donation drive next week. We can bring the other women; I’m sure it can be worked into the events schedule. My future wife will certainly be the type to happily volunteer and help the community.” His eyes flicked to me, and I wondered if he had me in mind with that last part. I took a sip of my tea, begging the butterflies in my stomach to calm down.
Queen Isobel clasped her hands, beaming with pride. “Oliver, that’s a wonderful idea.”
He turned to me. “Would that be okay, Adelaide? We don’t want to put any additional stress on you.”
How could I say no? We would need to work out the additional security protocols, but I had handled it before andcould do it again—especially for the added visibility that having the royal family in attendance would bring.
“I can reach out to my headteacher and let her know.” I turned to the queen. “Would I be in contact with your assistant again? I still have her number and can get in contact with her to arrange everything.”
“Yes, please. Mirabel will get it all sorted.”
I placed two finger sandwiches on my plate and felt a squeeze on my other hand. I looked up to Oliver, a wide grin on his face.
“I’m so happy we can help and make up for the last time we were there.”
I smiled at him and squeezed his hand in return, unable to put the jumbled mess of my emotions into words.
After we had finished our tea and sandwiches, Queen Isobel folded her napkin neatly, setting it on the table. “Oliver, would you like to begin the tour?”
