Page 14 of Learning to Rule

Elodie

Ican smell the booze coming from Dalton’s mother as I follow her around, and it’s turning my stomach every time she comes near me. How is it that the people here don’t realize she’s drunk? I can only think it’s because they’re drinking as well. I’m the only one without a glass of the finest champagne in my hand, and to be honest, even if I was given one, I’d probably bring it straight back up.

I’m wearing a tight and really uncomfortable suit that’s itchy against my skin, especially as the heating in the room is turned up really high. All I want to do is curl up in a ball. I’m so tired I think my body has forgotten what sleep is. The king was definitely right about throwing me in at the deep end.

Finally, with my eternal gratitude, the queen takes her seat on a massive throne erected in the middle of the room. The gratitude is not only for myself but also for the fact I’m concerned she might fall over at any point. She’s not exactly stable on her feet. How is it that someone hasn’t stopped her from getting like this? From drinking too much?

“You.” Dalton’s mother waves at me. “Who is that woman over there?”

She points toward a group of people. I can’t tell the exact person she’s means because her hand’s waving unsteadily at them all.

“Which one, Your Highness?” I question.

“That one.” The queen waves again in frustration. “The one in the appalling old fashioned red outfit. I’m sure I know her, but I can’t for the life of me remember her name.”

I grumble under my breath. “Maybe you would if you were sober.” Thankfully, the queen doesn’t hear.

“I’m afraid I not sure of her name. I’m still learning them all. I will find out at once for you.” I curtsy to the queen and back away.

“Useless,” the queen moans at no one in particular. “Where is my usual lady? She’s so much better than this one.”

I don’t respond, merely make my way through the crowd to where I know the queen’s senior lady-in-waiting, Miss Digby, is sitting. She’s been allowed to attend the event but not get involved.

When Dalton informed me of my next test, I was terrified and really worried about how the lady-in-waiting would treat me. She couldn’t have been lovelier, though. It was as if she were a female version of Mr. Hinchbottom and was excited to see Dalton happy and settled.

“Miss Digby, sorry to disturb you, but the queen wants to know who the lady in the red outfit is in that group over there?” I purposefully leave out the insulting comment about the old fashioned clothing.

“Oh God.” Miss Digby looks worried. “Does she want to speak to her?”

“She’s not asked that yet. She just wants to know her name,” I reply.

“Try to keep them apart if possible. They hate each other. The queen must be really drunk today if she can’t even remember the Duchess of Hamiria. It’s a small province of Janastria. They were rivals for the king’s affections for a long time. Thankfully, the duchess was able to make a much better match, in my mind anyway, with the duke.”

“I will try, thank you.” I rush back to the queen who’s busy accosting one of the footmen for another glass of champagne. He looks at me, and then with a wink, he hands us a glass each.

“It’s a special vintage for the queen and you, Miss Nash,” he says. Then walking past me, he whispers, “Alcohol free, as per Miss Digby’s instruction.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Have you found out about her yet?” the queen shouts at me.

“I have, Your Highness. She’s someone who you do not want to associate yourself with. I think it is best, if we stay away from her.”

“Why is she here, then?” The queen looks over to the woman again in indignation.

“I believe it is something to do with a mistake in the invitation process. I’m going to make a note about it for the future,” I respond, hoping it will be the last word on the matter.

The queen looks at me for a few moments. I can see she’s thinking over what I’ve said. Her lips purse together, and her nostril’s flare, ready to tell me I haven’t answered her question directly. I’m in big trouble.

I gulp.

But then the queen turns away.

“Bring me someone interesting to talk to, then? And hurry up about it. This really is one of the most boring ladies’ luncheons.”

I let out a sigh of relief and look around the room. During my briefing with Dalton, Mr. Hinchbottom, and Miss Digby, I was informed that should the queen become bored, the best person for her to talk to is a particular viscountess who’s equally as bad. My eyes quickly scan the room for her, and my heart flutters excitedly when I see her.

As elegantly as I can in the uncomfortable suit that makes me want to scratch with every step, I make my way through the crowd to the viscountess who is surrounded by a group of ladies.

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