Page 31 of Scandal Queen

“Yes, but they are also my mum and dad.”

I nodded but I didn’t mean it. “I haven’t felt this nervous since the night my mum died and I sat in the police station not knowing where I would go next.”

The gentle brush of his fingers soothed around my face, his thumb pressing against my chin and opening my mouth slightly. “And I will never let you feel like that again. If I thought this couldn’t work, we wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Because you know I’m not a good fit?”

“No, because if I can’t be who I am with you, then I’m not doing this.”

There they were again, those bold words. Big statements that had the capacity to not only change our lives but the entire fabric of our society.

I shook my head. I’d never let him make that choice. If it were the last thing I did, I’d make sure of it. I’d walk away and save him rather than let him fall for me.

“They are just my family, Leia. Utterly normal.”

“Yeah, well remember I’ve never known what that was like, not really.”

His flashed me a wide smile. “Well now it’s time to start.”

He pushed open the door and I kept my eyes trained firmly on the wide set of his shoulders, checking for tension. My heart raced like I’d run for the bus and then finished my journey on foot, never once breaking pace.

The King—dear God, this was actually happening—sat with a paper on his lap. The Queen stared out of a wall length window with her back ramrod straight.

“Oh, Oliver.” She turned and smiled wide. I stepped behind him, trying very hard to shield myself. I remembered all too well the look of disapproval she’d sent my way at her son’s thirtieth birthday ball.

“Hey, Mum.” I faltered at him calling her mum. I expected, Ma’am, hadn’t he called her that before? “I told you not to worry, we got home perfectly safe.”

“Well, still. For goodness’ sake, when are you going to realise these people will not leave you alone?”

I peeked around his shoulder. I wanted to be proud, and meet her gaze… but well… no.

She stepped up, smelling simply divine. I hated to think what I smelt of. “Leia, first rule of public relations. Never answer the door in your pyjamas.”

“Never answer the door.” Henry, the King, interjected.

“Henry.” Margaret Beaufort shot a frown at the King who rustled his paper in response, lifting it higher so he couldn’t see her glare.

I chuckled a little bit—utterly helpless. I clapped a hand against my mouth. I didn’t think you were supposed to laugh at the Queen. “Sorry.” Shit, the room turned into a sauna; sweat springing in my armpits under Ollie’s hoodie.

“Ignore him, he’s a grouch.” The Queen leant past Oliver and grasped a hand around my elbow, pulling me forward. Oliver grinned, those green eyes flashing.

“Don’t hide. Always stand tall and proud; even if on the insides you resemble crumbly cheese.” She met my gaze, even my stare shook, and then swept a searching glance over my face. “How is your daughter, Leia? We were so sorry to hear about her terrible scare; you must have been petrified.” Her hand still held mine, which frankly crossed into awkward.

“She’s much better. She’s here somewhere.” I motioned to the door we came in through, but really past the door I didn’t have much clue how to get back to Oliver’s apartment.

“So awful, it’s a mother’s worst nightmare isn’t it?”

I nodded trying not to let my mind wander to those moments in King’s hospital when I’d thought Daisy had died. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Well we have the royal physicians on hand here if needed. Oliver can explain how to contact them.”

“Thank you.”

“And so now we are in a situation.”

“Muuum,” Oliver warned. He made it sound just like Daisy.

“Well, Leia is one of us now, you’ve made that abundantly clear. Now she’ll have to learn to be one of us.”