Apollo

Chapter Two

THE SIGHT OF THE PALACE ONLY SERVED TO BREAK EMMETT LOCKHART'S heart anew. It was the gilded cage he had pushed his sister into – he had turned the lock and swallowed the key, and for all his worth, he had not been able to pull her out of the contraption he had landed her in to begin with.

"Good day, Lord Portsmouth," a palace guard standing near the doors greeted, "Her Royal Highness expects you in her study. I will send for an escort—"

"No need," Emmett interrupted with a sigh, his heart heavy and his tone betraying this. "Thank you. I know the way."

"Very well, Your Lordship." The guard said nothing more as he bowed out of nothing more than courtesy, his voice showing no emotion.

Not caring to add any further comment either, the earl walked past him and into the palace. There was much to admire in the castle's architecture, but he paid the splendour no mind, his step purposeful as he sought to see his sister. She had sent him a summons, a measure he would not have thought necessary, for he would come if she made the slightest indication that she wished him to do so. Yet whatever she had to discuss must be urgent, and so he navigated the halls as quickly as he could. He found her study without much difficulty, and knocked on the door to indicate his presence. He heard her permission for him to enter, and he pushed the door open.

"Emmy!" Her voice and her arms reached him before her image could, and he had not even had the chance to see Emmeline's face when he was wrapped up in her warm embrace. He heard her crown clattering to the ground, and saw it a distance from their feet, but she paid it no mind as she withdrew slightly from him to present him with a glorious smile.

    "How have you been, brother?"

    "I am well...and you?"

    "Well," she parroted. "Come and sit, Emmett, and shall I call for some tea?"

    "Tea sounds excellent, Linnie. Let us sit."

    She sat, and watched him expectantly with a faint smile. Instead of finding his chair, however, he moved to pick up her abandoned crown before advancing towards her and placing it gently on her head. Then he observed her for a moment, noticing not only that her crown resembled a halo on an angel's jet-black hair but that royalty had lent her regality, and more so than before he was inclined to feel a deep sense of pride at what a lady his sister had become. No, no longer a lady – a princess!

    A princess who would never call the man she loved her husband.

    Emmett's heart clenched.

    She was not happy. He knew it.

    It was all his fault.

    Before he could let his thoughts consume him and drag him in a downward spiral, however, she took the crown from her head and placed it on the table before her, smiling at him with a glimmer in her eye.

    "I am no princess in your presence, Emmett," she explained, "only your sister. Now sit, and I will call for the finest tea St James has to offer."

    Emmett complied and Emmeline held up her end of the bargain; within minutes the tea she spoke of was served with scones and crumpets and slices of cake. He watched his sister as she turned to beam at the young girl who was placing the full plates on the table and then pouring the steaming beverage into the two small cups. She was clearly pleased by the tea the kitchens had offered, and her satisfaction did not surprise him in the least. He himself was able to smell the tea and every kind of food on the table, and, he thought, he could almost see the scones waving enticingly at him.

When the younger girl finished arranging the plates and straightened with an empty tray in her hand, Emmeline spoke. Her smile, Emmett noticed, had not taken its leave. "Thank you, Penny. Send my compliments to the chef."