"She wants nothing to do with him... He would be miserable without her."
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Meet Sophie Franklin, a fiercely independent fashion designer who lives in New York, and then there's Marcus Beadoux, a dashing prince with...
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Leaving my room with Reina, I try to steady my nerves as we make our way to the grand dining hall. The hallway seems longer than before, each step echoing my heartbeat. Reina, walking beside me, flashes m a reassuring smile, but it doesn't completely ease my apprehension.
I can't help but think, 'Will they like me? Won't they see me as weird? What if I don't meet up to their standards? They are royalty after all. Calm down, Sophie,' I mentally chide myself when I catch myself thinking of all the worst-case scenarios. You've not even gotten there yet.
We enter the spacious dining hall, and I meet the rest of the family already seated and discussing amongst themselves. A hushed silence falls over the room, and all eyes turn towards us. I freeze slightly, burdened by the weight of their gazes. Reina sees this and comes to nudge me forward. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I make my way towards the long dining table, my palms sweating.
We approach the long dining table, and I try not to focus on the intimidating aura of royalty that surrounds it. Earlier, I had done my research on the Royal family of Netherlands, so I recognize some people at the table. Some, however, I have no clue who they are. The current king and queen of Netherlands, Isa and Aldert Van Orange-Nassau, sit at the head, radiating regality. A middle-aged woman is sitting beside the queen, bearing an uncanny resemblance to her. That must be her sister, I reasoned. Princess Aida, Marcus's elder sister, and her husband are also around, sharing a conversation and seemingly at ease.
"Good evening, Your Majesty," I mutter, doing my best to greet everyone as respectfully as I can, my voice strangely hoarse.
"Oh, you must be the fashion designer my daughter-in-law talked so much about," Isa, the queen, spoke, her speech heavily accented.
"Yes, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty," I reply, fixing a small smile on my face.
"You're welcome. Please have a seat." She gestures towards the empty chairs. With a small bow, I take my seat, which happens to be directly in front of Marcus. His intense gaze doesn't escape my notice, and I feel a flush of nerves rise to my cheeks. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus on the elegant table setting before me.
The maids immediately swoop in, serving the first course. I stare at my full plate, the appetizing meal making my mouth water, but knowing my stomach wouldn't let me appreciate it. "Thank you," I whisper to the maids attending to me once she's done before gingerly picking up a fork but not taking a bite until the King and queen and everyone else has done so.
Scooping a spoonful into my mouth, I munch reflexively, surprised at how delicious the food tastes. Encouraged, I begin to take more, careful not to reveal my lack of Royal etiquette.
Queen Isa soon directs her attention to me, striking up a conversation. "Reina has told us quite a bit about you, but I would like to hear from you. Tell us more about yourself. What is your profession, and how long have you been at it?"
