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Dammit, Gale!
“Fifty-thousand people? In one afternoon? Are you really sure?” I repeated. I couldn’t believe he had approved so many.
“That may not even be enough,” Caroline replied.
“The Easter celebration is always a favorite, ma’am.” Gilles Cortot laughed. He was the head gardener, a man who kind of reminded me of Santa Claus, not because he was big or had a white beard, but because he was so jolly and his laugh was always deep. “We have to do a lot to prep the garden to handle the tracks and then a lot more care afterward. The children really love the egg hunt. But the flowers aren’t the biggest fans.”
I smiled. “Please do your best to tend to them afterward. I’m sure we can’t childproof flower gardens, sadly.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Mrs. Farbridge, how are we looking with food? Can the palace kitchen handle it? I know they might not all stay, but still, that is a lot of cooking,” I said, scrolling up to look at her section of the preparations list.
“I don’t believe it will be so bad, ma’am. Mostly finger foods. Though from my experience, the kids tend to rush, and the parents tend to sneak some home with them, so they finish quickly. The butlers should be ready to be making frequent trips back and forth,” she said, looking at Mr. Parsworth, who nodded, stepping up to the challenge.
“I do not understand why they would need to sneak food. Can’t they just take some in a carry-out plate?” I asked, and when they all looked at me like…I was from a foreign planet, I realized apparently, I had said something off. But none of them said anything. “Are we all just going to keep staring at one another, or is someone going to explain why my comment was off?”
None of them wanted to say anything, and I really wished I knew where the heck Wolfgang had disappeared to.
“Well, ma’am, it’s not customary for the palace to allow people to take food with them,” Mr. Parsworth finally spoke up.
“And why is this?” I wanted to ask if it was another one of those traditions everyone just followed, even if they had no idea why.
“Well, two reasons. First, past queens have been against it because they did not like the idea of the palace being a food bank, ma’am. It is always preferred we feed guests properly when they are here,” he explained.
So, tradition…again.
“And the second reason?” I asked, hoping that would be a better reason.
“Well, ma’am, we wouldn’t know what they would do to the food when they got home,” Caroline added, putting her tablet down. “It is a slim possibility, but it is still a possibility for someone to claim the food given to them made them sick or was not prepared well. It would be disproven, of course, but by that time, the press would have already reported it. Even if the press later reported nothing was wrong—”
“Some people would never hear that, and it could possibly make people distrust us later… There would still be doubt over my kitchen, like with the case of that…of Mr. Ambrose, ma’am.” Mrs. Farbridge adjusted her sleeves angrily.
I’d forgotten how hard it was for her after. Everyone had thought she’d helped him or believed she was not vigilant and therefore could endanger the royal family. She’d changed how the whole entire kitchen now worked because of that one event.
“Thank you all for letting me know. I’ll make a note of it,” I said, looking back down at the tablet. Every day I saw how hard it was to make any change in the palace. The slightest shift of protocol had major impacts. Who would have thought providing take-away plates could cause a scandal?
“Okay, the list looks good—” There was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
“Ma’am.” Wolfgang entered and bowed.
“There you are. Where have you been, Wolfgang?” I asked.
Instead of speaking aloud, he came all the way to my chair, leaned over, and whispered into my ear. “Your sister was arrested and bailed out by her mother. She was drinking and driving. Her daughter was in the back of the car.”
My eyes widened as I looked him in the eye, and he just nodded. I put down my tablet, rising from the chair. When I did, they all rose quickly. “You will have to excuse me a moment.”
“Of course, ma’am.” They bowed.
Smiling to them, I turned, trying not to run out of the room. When the doors closed behind me, I faced Wolfgang again. “How is Adele? She wasn’t hurt, was she?”
No matter what her mother did, she was still my niece and goddaughter, even if I hadn’t ever seen her. I’d sent a present for her birthday and Christmas, though Augusta sent a message telling me she and her daughter didn’t need anything from me.
“The little girl is fine. We just got word, but it’s going to be in all the papers soon. How do you want us to handle it?”
Before I could decide that, I needed to talk to Augusta. It had been months. I didn’t know what was happening in her life. I had no idea what was wrong now. She’d done some horrible things…but this? This was a cry for help, right? I should try once more to reach out to her, right?
