Crowns & Chaos

ten

My hands were shaking incessantly as the car pulled out of our driveway. I couldn't believe that what was happening to me was actually happening. In all fairness, the past few months had been one long internal "what the fuck."

I fidgeted nervously with the signet ring on my left hand, the weight of it becoming a clear remembrance to my title and the weight that this night held.

My dad's face was impassive, but I could tell he was just as nervous as I was, if not more. My mom had forced air of casualness around her, but her knee was bouncing just enough that I knew she was feeling the nerves too. 

The ride was silent, each of us mulling over a million things at once, lost in our own stress.  Finally, the car rolled to a halt in front of Buckingham Palace. 

My pulse skyrocketed when my door was opened by a tall man wearing a black suit and gloves. This really was the real deal. I stepped out of the car, feeling not unlike Cinderella, as he ushered us up the stairs and into the entryway. A few camera flashes from outside indicated that someone from the press was here, and I did my best to put on a collected expression.

My mom squeezed my hand as we were led by a different butler? Guard? I don't know, something. Anyway, we were led into a parlour type area and told to wait. I took a moment to appreciate the interior of the place. I'd seen pictures of course, but this was somewhere I was pretty sure tours didn't get to look at. Everything screamed luxury and refinement.

When the King and Queen finally entered, we were quick to greet them both with a curtsy, or in my dad's case, a bow. Prince Peter was behind them. He gave me a short bow to which I responded with a curtsy again. 

"Your Majesties, it is an honour to meet you," my dad stated. 

King Edward was a tall man, with light brown hair peppered with grey. He had bright blue eyes that twinkled when smiled at him. 

"The honour is ours, my lord. I must admit, this whole affair came as quite a surprise, but a welcome one. Having found the true Pembroke heir is not something to be taken lightly."

Queen Isabelle was beautiful. She had olive skin and dark hair that was pinned up neatly, a light blue gown on. Her dark eyes were observant, giving all of us a once over.

"That Bartholemew that was handling things wasn't the most adept at his job either," she smiled softly. 

We took our seats in the dining room, some of the tension beginning to ease. My parents made idle chat about Canada and our move to Wilton. The King and Queen were cordial and actually seemed pretty chill. 

Peter smiled at me from across the table.

"So, here we are."

"It's wonderful to see you again, your highness," I replied, smiling nervously.

He cast a glance to our parents, who were talking about the Wilton house and the family.

"Don't be nervous. My parents are nice, I promise."

I fiddled with my fingers under the table.

"They are also the King and Queen, your highness."

My dad politely asked Peter about his trip to Yemen.

"Yes, after I left the military last year, I realized I hadn't seen much of the world. After I did get to see it, the troubled and impoverished parts along with the beautiful, I decided my time would be best spent out trying to make a difference."

King Edward stiffened only slightly. 

"While of course, maintaining your duties here."

Peter bristled. 

"Of course father."

"And we are very proud of him," Queen Isabelle chimed in. 

Servers brought the food out, salmon and asparagus on white rice, effectively halting the apparently touchy conversation subject. A few moments later, Queen Isabelle spoke again.

"So, Miss Evangeline, what do you do?"

I nearly choked but managed to swallow before answering. 

"I've just finished my degree in art history, Your Majesty. I'm hoping to perhaps find work in one of the museums here."

She quirked her eyebrow politely, but I could see the askance in her face. A Lady of Pembroke working at a museum?

"Well, that sounds lovely."

I nodded politely, hands shaking a little at the direct contact.

She turned back to my mother. They began talking about mom's work taking over the charity work that the Pembroke family sponsored. My dad and King Edward talked about something related to stocks I think. They were using a lot of words I recognized from dad's accountant days, but not ones where I actually knew what they meant. 

About an hour later, after dessert was finished, King Edward addressed my father. 

"Would you care for a whiskey, Thomas?"

He nodded. 

"Certainly, your Majesty."

Peter followed them out of the room, over to a parlour or something, where the real questions about the estate and politics were sure to happen.

Part of me was a little offended that the wives weren't included in this, but another part of me was relieved that I didn't have to pretend to know what was going on and that King Edward's polo jokes were actually funny. 

"Ladies, if you'll follow me to the ladies parlour, I'm sure we can get some tea."

We followed her down the hallway to an off white room with delicate green and gold couches. There was a window facing the back gardens on one side, and a beautiful piano in the other corner. Queen Isabelle seated herself on one of the loveseats, leaving the other one to my mom. I perched on the other chair. 

"So, Evangeline, your mother tells me you're quite a talented musician."

I froze. 

"Pardon me?"

"The piano, dear. Would you like to play us something while I get Patty to bring some tea?"

I glanced at my mom, who gave me a wide-eyed stare.

"Of course. I am a little rusty, but I'll try my best, Your Majesty." I finally answered, making my way over to the piano. 

I hadn't played in years. I never got the chance to play while I was away, and I'd stopped taking lessons when I was sixteen. Nevertheless, I smoothed my skirt over my knees and positioned my feet on the pedals, begging my hands to stay steady. 

After a moment's hesitation, I began to play Pachebels canon, a simple but beautiful piece I remembered from before.

The music came flooding back, and while I wasn't as skilled as I used to be, muscle memory saved my ass from looking like a complete fool. A few minutes later, heart shaking, I finished the song. 

My mom and Isabelle applauded politely. I stood up and turned around, only to see Peter leaning against the door. 

His mom noticed around the same time I did. 

"Peter! What are you doing?"

He straightened his posture.

"Hello mother, I was actually wondering if I could borrow Lady Evangeline for a moment?"

My face burned. As if my last encounter alone with him hadn't been humiliating enough. 

"Oh! Well, I suppose so."

"Wonderful. My Lady, would you be so kind as to follow me?"

I locked eyes with my mom, who looked like she was stuck between being terrified and trying not to laugh. 

"Of course, your highness."