My jaw hung open.

"It's not polite to sit with your mouth open," the Queen said, her voice returning to her normal lilting tone. However, she didn't mask the hint of a smirk.

"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly.

The Queen began eating her shrimp scampi. "You looked quite uncomfortable when Chef Jonathan and his servants came in," she said after eating a bite.

"Well, it's just—weird. Since I'm a servant too and now they're serving me," I explained.

"Cassie, here's one life lesson that I hope you take to heart," the Queen said. "Never apologize for improving your life. Be proud of yourself. Don't be ashamed because you are rising above your peers."

I didn't know how to respond. Was I really 'rising above my peers'? Could this Queen Maiden event be the start of something bigger?

"You looked about ready to punch poor Chef Jonathan," she continued with a small chuckle.

I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I just—the whole situation with the rumors made me mad," I said. "Because they aren't true. And—and I've done nothing with the Prince and I'm doing my best to please everyone and stay away from him in that sense but it doesn't matter apparently because everyone thinks I'm a slut anyways." I sighed, but then stiffened. I'm doing my best to stay away from him. Oh gosh. All the implications from that little sentence. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I keep my big fat mouth shut?

But Queen Klara didn't seem to notice, instead picking at her pasta. "I do not blame you for your anger. However—" She looked up and looked me straight in the eyes. "You have to be careful about your temper. I don't mean that you should take false accusations lying down. As you saw, I certainly did not, but you need to be composed. You need to look like you are in control. You can be spiraling inside, but you don't let the rest of the world see that."

"I see," I said.

"Tonight you will be dining with my family. That includes my mother-in-law. She is not going to be happy that a maid is the Queen Maiden. She's going to poke and prod until you burst. I implore that you do not give her the victory of an explosion. If you start yelling at her, you'll come out of it looking reckless and classless. However, if you take a few hits, she'll end up looking like the mean, sour old woman she is."

I nodded resolutely. I just had to not blow up at Grandma and all would be well. How hard could it be?

Well, knowing me, it could be pretty darn hard.

That night, I entered the dining hall in my pale blue sundress to be greeted by a glittering display of food on a dark mahogany table and the royal family of Aregano—all dressed in their best and most glamourous outfits. In comparison I looked like I had just stolen my dress from a homeless person and maybe rolled around in the garbage for good measure.

I walked toward the table where a servant (named Joseph) rushed forward to pull out the one empty seat for me. King Collin sat at the head of the table dressed in his red military dress I had seen him wear the night Prince Nikolas came. His graying brown hair was styled neatly, and his blue eyes watched me dubiously. I sat on his left and tried not to dwell too much on the nerve-wrecking fact that I was just around the corner of the table from the King of the country.

Queen Klara took the foot of the table and wore a flattering emerald dress and sparkling silver jewelry. She smiled at me when I looked at her. Across the table sat Prince Duarte nearest to the king and directly across from me wearing a deep purple coat decorated with fancy royal baubles. Also on that side of the table sat Princess Calista adjacent to her mother who looked surprisingly pretty in a high collared muted golden gown. Between Princess Calista and Prince Duarte sat none other than Old Grandma Marjorie deCourcy, wearing a blindingly bright shimmery gold gown and dripping with an obscene amount of diamond jewelry. She eyed me like a hawk, ready to descend upon a not-so-unexpecting prey.

To my relief, I was seated next to Prince Coleman. Maybe I shouldn't have felt relief at this, but I did. I looked over at him, and he gave me a small smile. He wore a black coat mirroring his father's in all but color, and his dark hair—while still longer than I would have liked—was admittedly slicked and combed neatly. All hair was out of his eyes so that their emerald irises looked more striking than usual.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Carmichael," Queen Klara began. She looked around the table. "This is Cassie Carmichael, this year's Queen Maiden." The Queen gestured towards Princess Calista. "Cassie, this is Calista, my daugh—"

"We've already met, Mama," Princess Calista interrupted. "She's met all of us, even Grandmama." She looked down the table. "Well, all except for Duarte."

"I have actually already had the pleasure," Duarte said, while his Grandma asked at the same time he spoke, "When did I meet her?"

I shot Princess Calista a glare—I couldn't help it.

"I have not formally met the Queen Maiden," King Collin said, looking at his daughter sternly. Calista pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

And then King Collin's eyes were on me—cold and scrutinizing.

"My husband, Collin," Queen Klara said.

I nodded my head. "Your majesty, it's an honor to meet you."

"Across from you is my nephew, Duarte of Roana," the Queen continued. "And next to you is, well, my son Coleman."

"Pleasure to meet you," I told Prince Coleman quietly. He looked at me with a wry smile.

"And of course, last but certainly least, my mother-in-law, Marjorie," Queen Klara finished with a hint of a wicked smile. Grandma deCourcy shot the Queen a harsh stare.

"Of course, you meant not least," Granny chided.

Queen Klara looked her and smiled. "But of course. Slip of the tongue."

But nobody believed Queen Klara.

Then Marjorie deCourcy directed her ire from her daughter-in-law to me. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, flashing towards Prince Coleman next to me before settling on me. Then, her eyes fluttered wide open and her lip curled.

"Why, I remember you! You're a servant!" she exclaimed. "Are you not?"