Chapter Forty
The Day on the Grass
The black cars finally pulled away from the stone courtyard on Sunday morning. I stood at the tall glass window of the drawing room and watched them go. The white-haired queen did not look back through the tinted glass. She did not wave. She just vanished into the grey morning fog of New York, taking her cold words and her sharp eyes with her.
As the iron gates of the estate clicked shut, I felt a massive weight lift from my chest. The air in the mansion suddenly felt easier to breathe. The long week of tests and silent dinners was over. I had survived the court of the king, and I had done it by wearing the fake smile every single day.
I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned around and saw Alexander. He was not wearing his suit jacket today
