“Please come in and have a seat, your majesties, your highness,” I said, ushering the royal couple into Prewitt Fox’s office, uncertain about the correct titles. The previous “rulers” of Maleficent Ville had been Ken, George, Sallie and Pumpkin, no honorific allowed. King Stefan and Queen Leah sat down in the high backed chartreuse chairs that faced Mr. Fox’s massive mahogany desk. “Mr. Fox will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you, my dear,” King Stefan said, his bearded smile reaching his grey eyes. I liked him immediately. He was tall and dignified, with a plain grey tunic, somewhat old fashioned, but he wore good, leather shoes.
Queen Leah merely nodded in my general direction and waved her hand as if she were sitting in a carriage in a parade. Was she waving me away?
I’d seen Queen Leah on the night of the celebration. She’d been wearing a formal, high-necked chiffon gown in mustard yellow, a gold crown with yellow diamonds, and a diamond necklace. I was surprised to see her in the same outfit in Prewitt Fox’s office. The yellow didn’t do her sallow complexion any good.
Well, except for the crown. Her wavy, brown hair was gathered in a bun on the top of her head, in the center of a silver tiara.
Although she was short, about my height, she held herself as if she were much taller, looking down her nose. She held her lips in a tight smile, and crinkled her brown eyes as if she were kindly. Instead, she only managed to look pained at the world around her, as if everyone and everything were a continuous disappointment. At first I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She had, after all, stepped into a future that she hadn’t expected, 100 years later. Queen Leah had probably lost friends and family in that time, and she had a new culture to get used to. One hundred years ago, magic hadn’t come up with cell phones and the internet yet. I was still waiting for the self-cleaning house.
“Will Princess Aurora be joining you?” I asked. The Fair Megan had asked me to slip
“No,” Queen Leah said, still maintaining her fake smile. “She is in far too much pain.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmured.
“I would have liked to have been offered refreshments,” Queen Leah said, glancing at me, then out the window at the view of the dumpster. Prewitt Fox hadn’t had time to look for a high rise office, instead settling for the closest building nearest his home.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “We really don’t-”
“No, it’s entirely meaningless now,” Queen Leah said in an aggrieved tone, as if she were struggling to be brave in the face of horrible atrocities, like being given chardonney instead of pinot noir. “I wanted something before.”
Before? Did she mean before I asked about her daughter?
“Has everyone forgotten their manners? In my day, refreshments would have been waiting for us.”
“I’m sorry, we don't-”
“Apologies just aren’t enough for a slight like this. You’re lucky I don’t get you fired.”
First I had a stab of irritation. Then I had a sudden, sympathetic pang for her staff. And her daughter.
Just then Prewitt Fox hurried into the room, his briefcase under his arm and his hair every which way from the wind.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, giving them an awkward bow. He apparently didn’t know how they expected to be treated. It was a far cry from Snow White who insisted on as little formality as possible. “I was just getting some documents from the courthouse.”
“You are forgiven, of course,” Queen Leah said, suddenly gracious. She didn’t add that they’d only just arrived themselves – twenty minutes late.
Prewitt Fox tossed his briefcase on the desk and sat down in his ergonomic leather chair. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you any refreshments. I’ve only just rented this office and it’s not stocked up.”
“That is quite all right.” Queen Leah smiled sweetly. “We don’t really need anything right now.”
No comments:
Post a Comment