Page 17 of Crown of Thorns
“Lovely to meet you,” Dahlia says, turning on the charm and making the lieutenant blush.
“In a moment, we’ll walk through the building and out into the public area where you will be greeted by the public. After that we will have a photo op withthe Vice Admiral who will give a speech welcoming you to the harbor this morning. Then the princess will swing the bottle to christen the ship.”
“Brilliant,” she smiles at him. “You have it all worked out perfectly.”
“Yes, your highness.”
“Well, shall we then?”
He turns to the doors to signal that we’re ready to walk through. Dahlia reaches over and squeezes my hand quickly in a show of comfort and I smile back at her before we turn and follow the equerry through the doors.
Both sides of the walkway are lined with people of all ages who have been waiting for who knows how long in the cold wind just for the chance to meet Dahlia or even me. I’m blown away by the idea that they waited for me. It’s a feeling I won’t forget for a long time.
Dahlia moves to the left side, and I move to the right. A young girl in a pretty dress under her coat steps forward with a bouquet in her extended hands and I crouch down to greet her.
“Hello,” I say, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Maggie.”
“Maggie is a lovely name,” I tell her. “I’m Stella.”
“I know,” she says shyly. “Mummy says you’re going to be a queen.”
“Does that sound fun to you?” I ask her.
“Oh, yes,” she says. “I’d love to wear a crownevery day.”
“Well, I think you’d make a fantastic queen,” I tell her. “You can be anything you want to be.”
“I want to be you,” she says.
“Well then, you better be very good for your mummy and read lots of books and learn to be kind to all people and animals,” I tell her.
“I can do that!” she says excitedly. “I love my dog, Rufus.”
“I bet you do. I’d love to have a dog very much. I have a funny orange cat that loves to nap as much as he loves to play.”
“I don’t like to nap very much,” she says worriedly.
“Good thing you’re not a cat then,” I tell her with a laugh.
“Don’t forget your flowers, Maggie,” a woman I suspect is her mother says from beside her.
“Oh, I forgot.”
“I figured,” her mother says with a laugh as she holds the bouquet out to me.
“These are for you,” she says.
“For me?” I ask. “Why thank you. They’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you so much for your time,” her mother says to me as I stand to greet her.
“Thank you so much for coming to see us today,” I tell her. “Did you have to wait long?”
“Not too long,” she says. I touch her hand with mine before moving on to wave to her daughter.
I shake hands and talk to people as I make my way down the line. Everyone is so kind. I stop to shake hands with a young couple, the husband holding a small toddler on his hip, a tattered orange stuffed kitten toy clutched to her chest.
