"I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you out," the queen finally spoke up, her voice cutting through the tense silence that had settled between them.
Upon hearing the queen’s words, Elena’s expression remained composed, but a subtle hint of amusement danced in her eyes. With a graceful motion, she lowered the porcelain cup onto its saucer, the delicate clink echoing in the quiet room.
"Actually, no, I’m not surprised at all," Elena replied calmly, her tone laced with confidence and a touch of arrogance.
"What?" Queen Maeve exclaimed, her surprise evident in her tone and expression.
Elena leaned forward slightly, her demeanor composed yet assertive as she addressed the queen.
"Actually, I was beginning to wonder when you were going to summon me," she explained, her words measured and deliberate. "I mean, you made me stay back in this palace, and it was beginning to get rather boring. Plus, you’ve been secluded away, so yes, I saw this coming."
Her tone was tinged with a subtle challenge, as if daring the queen to refute her observation.
A furrow appeared on Queen Maeve’s brow, her expression revealing her surprise at Elena’s boldness. Yes, Elena was undeniably outspoken and confident—traits that Queen Maeve had always admired. After all, a queen ought to be assertive. However, Elena was also cultured and refined, usually careful to maintain the appropriate level of decorum.
But in this moment, Queen Maeve couldn’t shake the feeling that Elena’s words carried a hint of condescension, and perhaps even a deliberate attempt to provoke her. It unsettled her, as she sensed a subtle shift in their dynamic.
Or perhaps, Queen Maeve mused, she was overthinking things. She paused for a moment, considering the possibility that her interpretation of Elena’s demeanor was colored by her own apprehensions. After all, tensions had been running high in the kingdom lately, and it was natural to be on edge.
With a mental shake of her head, Queen Maeve pushed aside her doubts, opting to give Elena the benefit of the doubt for now. She plastered a polite smile on her face, masking any hint of uncertainty, and prepared to continue their conversation.
"About that, I’m sorry," Queen Maeve began, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment as she offered her apology for her absence during a time when Elena may have needed her the most.
However, as the memory of the matchmaking ball resurfaced in her mind, Queen Maeve’s demeanor shifted subtly. Her hands, resting delicately in her lap, instinctively curled into fists at the recollection. She couldn’t forget how Aldric had disgraced her in front of the entire court, and the bitterness of that betrayal still lingered.
Despite her expectations, her husband Oberon had failed to defend her honor or take any decisive action against Aldric, allowing the boy to escape punishment without consequence.
Queen Maeve harbored no expectations from her husband any longer; his failure to act had severed any remaining threads of trust or reliance. Now, her sole focus was on securing the throne for her son, Valerie. She envisioned a future where Valerie ruled over Astaria, granting her the power and authority she craved to finally rid herself of the nuisance that was Aldric.
With Valerie as king, Queen Maeve knew she would have the leverage to exact her revenge on Aldric and all those who had wronged her. She relished the thought of Oberon, her husband, watching helplessly as she wielded her newfound influence, ensuring he tasted the bitter fruits of humiliation just as she had. Each indignity she had suffered at the hands of Aldric would be repaid in kind, and Oberon would feel the full weight of her wrath.
"It’s alright, Queen mother Maeve. It’s not like you had any control over what happened. I totally understand" Elena’s words flowed with soothing empathy, her charming smile masking the calculated intentions that lurked beneath.
Queen Maeve was impressed by the apparent understanding radiating from her daughter-in-law.
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