Stepping outside the conference room is like stepping into a new world. I enter the hallway feeling fulfilled. It’s a tantalizing new world outside that room. Uncle Braden and my two advisors all crowd around me. Uncle Braden speaks first.

“We can celebrate later, but first I need to clarify something with Councilman Morris. Remain here, Mary Elizabeth. Douglass, come with me.” He doesn’t wait for my response and disappears back into the conference room. Douglass is obedient as always. Annoyance sparks in my brain. Why should he speak with any of the Councilmen without me? I’m sure it concerns me. I don’t get to stew on it. Alexander and I are alone and he places himself in front of me so I have to look up into his face.

“Your uncle mentioned us to come to his place for dinner. He says you’re an excellent cook. Is that true?”

“I got skills.”

That gets another smile out of him. “I thought you might want to spend your evening doing something else. Calling your family to tell them the good news? Calling your boyfriend? Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer that?”

“No. That wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable. Plus, my boyfriend already knows the good news.” The smile on his face grows wider; one eyebrow goes up as he takes a step closer to me.

“Let’s go. We meet back at my house.” Uncle Braden doesn’t even slow down as he moves past us. Everyone follows in a wordless agreement as we head to the ground floor and get into our respective vehicles. The limo is waiting, the driver holding the door open for us. I guess I will have to get used to this.

“Mary Elizabeth, try to remember not to swear, especially when addressing any councilmen.”

“When did I swear?”

“You said, ‘I won’t be a damn mascot.’

“Uncle, that’s not swearing-

“It is for a queen and you are a queen now.”

“Does the queen get a coronation? No one has even mentioned that.”

“One thing at a time, Mary Elizabeth. There are more important issues.”

His phone rings and I become invisible to him while he reports the events to someone for rest of the journey home. When we arrived back at his military townhouse he takes a moment to look at me before we exit the vehicle. I think he is going to say something poetic and profound, perhaps even apologize.

Instead what I get is, “You’re going to do the cooking, right?”

Mr. Donovan and Mr. Bretton arrive minutes later, and Uncle Braden escorts them into his study to talk, probably about me. I am left alone, standing in the kitchen, I assume to make dinner, a soon-to-be queen, making a meal for the men. I don’t mind. Making dinner is something I know I can do.

While I am waiting for a pot of water to boil, my attention wanders out to the townhouse’s balcony. I can see the cage from the kitchen and the large dark figure bobbing about in it. My baby greets me with a loud “caw” and throws herself against the bars.

“There, there Sweetie.”

I reach my fingers through the bars and she allows me to pet her a few times. My pet raven has been spending too much time in this cage. It’s a rather large and expensive macaw cage but still too small for a bird like Sweetie. She deserves a custom aviary but I live in my uncle’s townhouse. This is what I can do, for now. Petting her calms me and I want nothing more than to have her with me. I dare not remove her from the cage. I would never be able to get her back in and Uncle Braden doesn’t like her loose in the house. He has expressed that to me, repeatedly. I think she’s gorgeous. My pet is the only thing I brought with me from Detroit and she’s my prize possession but I have to leave her for now.

An hour later I have the additional pleasure of announcing “Dinner is served.” I also lay the table and set out the food. I considered making a vegan meal, simply to enjoy watching disappointment take them over. I refrain and instead, I serve mustard pork chops with turnip greens. Might as well cook something I like to eat. They don’t even bother to wait for me to sit down before they begin eating. They do not talk to me unless it is to give some instruction. A “Pass this” always suffices.

When we finish, I begin clearing the table because I’m sure that is expected of me too. I am scraping the second plate into the garbage disposal when I hear footsteps behind me. Alexander Donovan appears on my right side holding the last two dinner dishes. He sets them in the sink, keeping his dark blue eyes trained on me. We stay like that for a heartbeat too long before I throw myself into his chest. His arms engulf me and his hand finds the back of my head. A second later we are kissing; open mouth, tongues in full exploratory mode. Alexander is talented and I always get lost in all of it. The only thing that interrupts us is Uncle Braden’s voice. He is laughing at something, but that’s enough to kill the mood. We pull back from each other, little by little.

Alexander keeps his voice low. “Tonight?”

I have grown tired of putting this off. I deserve a little something.

I don’t move my head, I don’t smile. Even so, Alexander must have understood my resignation. He has grown tired of this too. The bloom is going off the rose, so to speak and we both know it.

Alexander smiles and moves away from me. His movement is fluid, slight bow at the waist which is intended, before he turns and disappears out of the room. I suppose I should get used to that too.

Writing!

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