Page 97 of Coronation
Already well-known for her wit, kindness, and unmatched personal style, Zelda has yet to make an official appearance as queen, but palace sources confirm she will assume royal duties following the coronation ceremony and is to be styled asHer Royal Highness Queen Zelda of Stelland.Or, as many citizens have already affectionately dubbed her,Queen Z.
Forty-One
Zelda
“You know, Zelda, when I said I had a feeling this year would be a big one for you, I didn’t mean for you to take itquiteso seriously.”
I can’t help but smile as I dig into the bowl of sliced fruit before me, otherwise ignoring the disgruntled rumblings of my father, who is seated beside me at the breakfast table.
He and my brothers arrived very late last night to be present for the coronation. Ben and I waited up for them, and we’d only managed introductions before everyone went to bed. He’d been called into a last-minute meeting with the organizers this morning, and god knows how long it will take. Which means, with Mom and Sybil due to barely make it to the cathedral in time for the ceremony, I’ve been left to enjoy breakfast with my male family members on my own.
“Keep doing what you’re doing, Z. Having a queen in the family is good for business,” Sterling reports grimly from his place beside Dad, brow furrowed and thumbs flying over the screen of his phone. “YUM stock is up sixteenpercent.”
Beside him, Cal snorts. “I don’t think you want to encourage what she’s beendoingto get herself in this position.”
His comment makes Sterling blanch, and, to my right, Dad curses under his breath.
“I’m very glad that stock from yourvery sex positivebusiness, whichisn’t in the business of shaming women for having fantasies or desires,is doing well because of my marriage,” I tell my eldest brother with a sweet smile, spearing a piece of pineapple on the end of my fork.
Sterling glowers at me. “I’m not shaming you for anything. I just don’t want to hear about how you ended up queen of a country you lived in for four months.”
“And pregnant,” Cal adds cheerfully. “Don’t forget pregnant.”
Another round of mortified expressions and cursing commences as I chew my fruit, trying to contain my smile as I look around at all of them. They may be grumbling, snarky, and overprotective, but they all came. No questions were asked—okay, a few questions were asked—and every member of my family abandoned the very important items on their agenda to be here for me. And Ben. They might not know it yet, but they’re going to love him.
“Well, now that we’ve gone over that.” I pick up the agenda, which was printed and waiting for me when I woke up this morning, the one with the newly designedHRH Queen Zelda of Stellandletterhead, which outlines the rest of the day in painstaking detail.
7:10 A.M. to 7:34 A.M.—Breakfast with visiting family members (Owen Flowers, Sterling Flowers, Calvin Flowers)
Smiling to myself, I check it off. While the list of things I now need to learn how to do is beyond daunting, at least keeping a tight schedule is something I’m familiar with. On set, time is money, and I was never going to be the personblowing up a production budget because everyone had to wait for her.
Footsteps sound from out in the hall, and I look over in time to see the two footmen opening the French doors with a respectful incline of their heads to the man striding through. I stand, beaming at my new husband. “We didn’t think you’d make it,” I tell him, my heart lifting as I accept a swift kiss on the cheek, and Ben’s hand comes out to rest on my stomach for the briefest moment before it falls as he turns to greet my father.
“Thank you again for joining us,” he tells Dad. “It means a great deal to Zelda and myself.”
My father—who once delivered a sixteen-minute, entirely improvised speech at The Canes to standing applause—merely grunts.
I sigh, sinking back into my chair as Ben takes the vacant spot at the head of the table, offering me a tight smile. In the corner of the room, the grandfather clock’s ticking seems to grow louder, and I look desperately to Cal.
My second brother’s grimace tells me he isn’t excited about the nonverbal plea, but humors me anyway. “So, ah,Benedict?” He glances at me for confirmation that they’re allowed to call him that. I nod. “Benedict. Are you excited for the thing later?”
“The thing?” I demand incredulously before Ben can respond, glowering at Cal. “Are you serious?”
“I know what it’s called.” He waves me off. “Jesus Christ, you’re a pain in the ass. Oh, shit! I know a great fucking icebreaker! Did Z ever tell you aboutthe orange peel?”
Oh no.
“Cal,” I snap, attempting to remain calm even as heat rushes to my face. “Could we not?”
Ben leans forward. “I would very much like to know about the orange peel.”
My brother points at him, clearly delighted. “Yes! Excellent! Off to a good start here, Benny. So, Z had to be about… God, what was it, Dad? Ten? Eleven?”
“I was five!”
“Five. Yes, that’s what I said. Anyway, you haven’t met Birdie yet, but needless to say, she’s not exactly what one would call an attentive parent. On this particular day, the nanny was out sick. As the designated family disappointment, it was declared I had nothing better to do than watch my sisters.”
Dad scoffs. “You have a platinum record, Calvin. I believe that absolves you of this self-appointed title of family disappointment.”
