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“Ma’am, please follow me.” Thelma rushed forward, trying to touch her arm, but she yanked it away.
“Do not touch me, you giant!” she screamed at her.
Oh my God.
“My sister, your precious queen, is right there! Did she tell you to remove me? I’m giving a toast to her, and you are being rude!” she went on spitting out, nearly stumbling over before she turned to her sister. “Are you asking for me to be removed, sis? Huh? Am I embarrassing you? Am I ruining your big moment? Your special fairytale life! Sorry! I just thought I’d come to see if I could scrape some of the magic dust off your damn feet! Can you spare that, big sis? You perfect—”
“Get her out!” I hollered, clenching my feet. “Now!”
“No!” Augusta screamed as she rushed to run away from them. “I will leave when I freaking want! Odette, tell me to leave! You say it! Don’t just sit there like a mute Barbie! Say something, huh!” She threw her glass onto the floor, shattering it. “Odette!”
Thelma grabbed her arm and just lifted her up, taking her with her toward the door.
“Odette! Say something you will regret. I’ve already taken—”
The chorus of gasps made me turn and face where they were dragging her out, when all of a sudden, I saw foaming at the mouth, Augusta seizing right in Thelma’s arms. Quickly she put her down.
“No! Take her! Call a doctor!” Odette hollered, getting up and rushing after her sister.
And just like that, the night was up Satan’s ass.
I glanced at the devil who brought her in, and he glanced back at me.
He called me weather…oh, I was going to be a natural disaster on his head!
Fuck!
The Morning Eagle
Monday, August 9th
“Queen Odette the Coldhearted”
Last night, the goodbye ball for the King and Queen of Bhutan was like something out of a Shakespearean tragedy. Royals, the nobility, and the richest of the world gathered, dressed in the finest jewels and clothes, feasting on the very best wines and foods…all in their own world.
When in comes a wounded soul, a rejected woman of high birth, dressed in black, seeking to end the rift between her and her sister the queen…only for her sister to sit above her with her head held high as all the rest of the nobility laughed on.
It was a tragic display.
Augusta Wyntor, the queen’s younger sister, called out to her as the queen had her dragged from the ball. And the plot only worsens as this poor sister collapses near death. Still, the queen sat on her throne, unbothered.
It sounds almost too ridiculous to be true. And yet, it is true.
“It is not true!” I snapped, throwing the paper onto the table. “What was I supposed to do—run toward her? Hug her? The woman was on drugs!”
“Odette, calm down,” Eliza said to me as I walked back and forth in the drawing room.
Gale was in a meeting to somehow do damage control on the insanity we were all forced to watch last night. I could barely even look Dema in the eyes as she left this morning.
“She came here knowing I couldn’t reject her at the gate. She planned it all to embarrass me! And as if it weren’t enough for her to start publicly yelling in my face, she starts to overdose! But any of the papers say that? Huh? Not one! None of them are talking about how she apparently took cocaine!”
“That is a good thing, Odette.” Elspeth put her hand on me, trying to lead me to the couch. “You don’t want that getting out about your sister—”
“I have no sister!” I hollered. “I should have remembered that last night and left her at the damn gate! It’s my fault. We could have released a statement saying we did not realize it was her because she didn’t call, and that would have been it. But instead, I’m cruel? I’m coldhearted? She did this to me—ahh!”
“Odette!” They both rushed to me.
“I’m fine.” I held my hand up, touching the side of my stomach. “That kick was just a bit painful.”
