Page 26 of Fallen Knight

I turn my attention to Archie and follow him through the lobby, people bowing and curtsying as I pass. Archie leads us up the grand staircase, more members of my protection team flanking us. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much security. It wasn’t necessary when I was in Paris. While I was required to have twenty-four-hour security, even if I just wanted to go for a run or out for a cup of coffee, it wasn’t like this.

Yet another thing I’ll have to get used to.

We continue past the mezzanine area and toward a guarded door on the far side of the second floor lobby.

A man in a tuxedo, who I recognize as being on my father’s protection team, greets us with a bow.

“Your Highness. Master Hughes.”

I return his smile as he opens the door, granting us entry to the private corridor before closing it behind us, standing watch once more.

Now that we’re away from the crowds, it’s silent, barely a sound to be heard, apart from the swooshing of my gown, the lush red carpet cushioning my feet. When we reach a pair of double doors, two more guards standing outside bow toward me, then open the doors for us.

As soon as we enter the foyer of the royal box, my nerves flare up, dozens of eyes turning in our direction.

Including my grandmother’s piercing stare.

I’ve purposefully avoided her the past nine years. Maybe it was childish, but I refused to talk to her until she apologized for the role she played in trying to marry me off, then blaming me for Adam’s death. My father may not be perfect, but at least he’s tried to make amends.

My grandmother never has.

Never saw anything wrong in her actions.

Sensing my unease, Tristan takes control, bowing toward my father as he approaches, despite the fact I’ve never reviewed royal protocol with him. He just seems to know.

Then again, hedidgrow up in the White House. His childhood was filled with meeting foreign dignitaries. I have no doubt he’s more than aware of protocol.

Or perhaps he asked one of my staff members to review it with him. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me. That’s just the type of person he is.

“Your Majesty.”

A soft smile tugs on my father’s lips as he extends his hand toward Tristan. “Mr. Hughes. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but we already have, although you probably don’t remember since you were a small lad.”

“Of course, sir. It’s an honor to be here and see you again.”

I study Tristan, brows scrunched slightly, this man bearing little resemblance to the person he was minutes ago when he told me he couldn’t wait to make me scream.

I shouldn’t be upset over it. After all, I act differently in public than I do in private. I didn’t think Tristan was like me, though. Thought he was different.

“Esme,” my father says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Your Majesty.” I curtsy.

“Allow me to introduce you to Esme’s grandmother,” my father directs at Tristan. “Queen Veronica. The Queen Mother.” He steps aside, allowing my grandmother to join us.

“Your Majesty.” Tristan bows, not even needing me to tell him how to address her.

Most people aren’t sure, since she’s technically a dowager queen and the requirement to bow and address her as such died along with my grandfather. Regardless, we continue to give her the respect she deserves after years of service to the monarchy. Although lately I’ve questioned whether she does, in fact, deserve it.

“Mr. Hughes.” My grandmother extends her hand, allowing Tristan to shake it gently. Then she turns her cold eyes on me, expectation within.

I drop into a small curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

“Esme.”

She rakes her gaze over me, as if making a mental note of everything about my appearance that displeases her. I’m sure the list is quite long, considering the dress I chose is somewhat revealing, the front dipping low, displaying my ample cleavage.

“So glad you could spare the time to be here tonight.”

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