Page 35 of Scandal Queen

Daisy and I were walking along the grass of the gardens when someone called my name. I say gardens; what I meant was the giant fuck-off landscaped grounds of about a million acres—all in the centre of London.

I turned and then almost fell over when I clocked sight of the Queen coming over the grass towards us.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, catching hold of Daisy’s hand. “Please behave.”

My words were utterly unnecessary, if anyone needed to be told to behave it would be me. Twice.

Please don’t say anything stupid. Please don’t say anything stupid.

“Leia, this must be Daisy?” The queen smiled and leant down to Daisy to shake her hand. Daisy bobbed a cute little curtsey which reminded me that I needed to do one too. Mine cranked down like a spring that needed oil.

“Your Majesty, this is Daisy, my daughter.” Why did I sound like a dick? Had a switch been flipped?

“Leia, please, I’m Margaret; most family call me Margi.”

“Blah, bluhbluh.”

Daisy giggled.

“Perfect, I shall take that as you are agreeing.” The Queen flashed me a smile that reminded me all too much of Oliver.

“I apologise for leaving the meeting. I appreciate that was rude.” I turned slightly and glanced at my arse to make sure I didn’t have something stuck up there.

“No need. We probably scared the life out of you.”

I nodded automatically, my cheeks burning.

“But you haven’t run screaming yet, which I think is the thing Oliver fears most.”

I pulled a face and glared at the darkening sky. The day had nearly come to an end. The sun had dropped behind the trees, lengthening the shadows across the grass and bringing a cool nip to the air. “I don’t think I could do that.”

The Queen eyed me with keen interest. “That’s good to know.”

She turned her attention back to Daisy. “I’ve heard you love everything about princesses?”

Daisy nodded, her lips stuck together.

“Would you like to come and see in the palace? Oliver’s Daddy would very much like to meet you.”

I met my daughter’s wide stare and nodded. “You can’t get overtired.”

The Queen held her hand out to Daisy. “We won’t be long, but I have lots of things she’d love to see.”

“Okay…” I didn’t know what else to say. Oliver’s Daddy hadn’t said two words to me since I arrived.

“And, Leia. We will start at nine sharp tomorrow. I believe we have just over a week until Daisy goes back to school.”

My mouth dried. “A week for what?”

Isabella’s words rang back at me from the library. The Queen would have me gliding about in Chanel—she didn’t know I couldn’t glide if my life depended on it.

“You’ll need to meet your stylist. There are guidelines I expect all members of the family to follow.” She frowned. “Although, I don’t believe Oliver has given you a very good example of that.” The Queen’s lips turned down with distaste. “Denim on the television, whoever heard of such a thing.”

I chewed my bottom lip and sunk my hands into Oliver’s hoodie.

“Anyway, business tomorrow.” She smiled at Daisy. “This afternoon is for princess fun.”

Daisy’s expression brightened, but she still looked a rabbit in headlights; sometimes I was pleased to see any of my genetics in her.