Grace

Chapter 39

A/N: Not very often I do these, even less so at the beginning of a chapter. This chapter is to make up for sucking at updating recently. 

More importantly, after Queen Victoria I completely screwed around with royal history and succession. A dude called King Nicholas is mentioned briefly. Go with it, 'kay? 

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Tulip's Tea Rooms was a really quaint café that had wicker chairs, delicate tables, black and white photos on the walls and kitschy country music. There were lace place mats everywhere and the door had a bell over it. Clara and I just looked at Chi.

She shrugged. "The food's good. Come on, the sofas are free."

She walked through the café passing only a few people – all of whom were older than us three combined, one so old I thought she might be twice as old as that and then some – and put her coat on the sofa. Clara and I followed suit and then we went over to the counter to order. We all had hot chocolates with all the trimmings as well as ham and cheese toasties.

"Cake?" the lady asked.

"We'll come back," Chi all but promised and eyed up the lemon meringue pie.

I didn't call her out on it. I was eyeballing the chocolate fudge cake.

"I'll open a tab for you and bring everything over."

"Thank you," Chi said and we headed back to our seats.

I took my hat, gloves and scarf off, straightened up my top and redid my plait. Clara ran her fingers thorough her hair looking a little annoyed. We'd both told her to wear a hat, but she hadn't listened. Windswept wasn't a great look on anyone. I took pity on her and passed her the small brush I kept handy.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"So what have you two been up to?" I asked. "I really haven't been keeping up all that well this week."

"Can't say I blame you," she said. "Chi was in detention on Tuesday."

"Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "No reason."

"No reason my arse," Clara said and passed the brush back to me. "Thanks. Master Snow – he teaches maths apparently – caught her snogging Christopher in the chapel."

"Christopher?"

Chi stayed silent.

"From sculpting," Clara supplied. "Apparently her blouse was undone a little too."

"Chi!" I yelped.

"Shhh!" Chi hissed and flapped a hand at me.

She looked over her shoulder at the people sat around. They didn't seem to be at all bothered by our conversation. Either they couldn't hear it, were good at acting or had been there and done that and found the story rather boring.

"Who's Christopher from sculpting?" I couldn't help it, I pitched my voice posh, high and mighty.

Chi said nothing.

"His dad's an earl."

"Oh Christopher what's his face with the posh surname."

"Oh you can hardly talk," Chi huffed. "What's Ben's title? His Royal Highness Prince Christian of Wales?"

"Prince Christian 'call me Ben' of Wales," I playfully corrected. "Since when have you like Christopher anyway?"

"I've known him forever. I live down the road from him."