I Was the Perfect Queen, But He Forgot My Name novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Toast
At her eighth anniversary banquet the king raises his glass to his queen and cannot say her name; she lays down her crown, and a stranger by the wall says the name aloud.
On our eighth anniversary, my husband stood up to toast me and could not say my name.
The great hall was full to the rafters.
Four hundred guests held their glasses, and the herald stood ready with the royal registry open on his stand.
The registry needs the full name of the queen at every anniversary feast.
I had waited for this moment all evening with my hands folded in my lap.
King Edmar smiled down the long table at me.
"My friends," he said. "Tonight we honor the woman who has kept this house for eight years."
The court murmured, pleased.
"My wife," he said, and his smile stayed where it was. "My queen."
The herald cleared his throat and dipped his pen.
"Your Majesty, the name, for the record."
Edmar's hand tightened on the stem of his glass.
I watched his eyes go to the ceiling, then to the wine, then to his mother at the far end of the table.
The Dowager Queen looked back at him like a stone looks at the sea.
"The name," the herald said again, softly.
"Of course," said Edmar. "Of course. It's..."
He laughed and the laugh cracked in the middle.
Nobody in the hall was surprised.
That was the worst of it.
Every one of them had stood in this room at some feast and watched my name slide off a lord's tongue.
A bishop's had done it too, and a general's.
They had learned to smile and look at their plates.
I had learned to smile first.
Lady Sabelle leaned across the king's elbow, golden and kind, and patted his sleeve.
"Isolde?" she offered, to a ripple of fond laughter. "Is it Isolde, Your Majesty? Oh, you poor man, you've been up since dawn."
"Isolde," Edmar said, grateful. He turned to me. "Isolde. Forgive me, darling, it's the wine."
He had not touched his wine.
I looked at the crown on my head.
It was gold and heavy.
An archbishop had pressed it into my hair eight years ago, and he could no longer tell you whose head it was.
I had been nineteen.
I had been so careful ever since.
I knew the name of every cook, every laundress and every groom.
I knew the names of their mothers.
I had cut the palace grain bill by a fifth without a single servant going hungry.
I had never once been late, or rude, or ill, or sad where anyone could see.
I had been perfect, and I had told myself that if I was perfect enough, he would remember.
I stood up.
The hall went quiet.
I lifted the crown off my head with both hands.
It was lighter than I had expected.
I walked down the high table, past the lords and the bishop and the Dowager's folded hands.
I set the crown beside Edmar's plate.
It rang once on the silver.
"Isaveth," I said, loud and clear, to four hundred faces. "My name is Isaveth Corrane."
I watched it reach them.
I watched it land in their ears and drift away like a petal off a table.
A lord to my left frowned, puzzled, and turned to his neighbor.
"What did she say?"
"I didn't catch it," said the neighbor.
Edmar looked up at me with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wet.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Say it again."
I did not.
I turned from him and walked the length of the hall alone.
Four hundred people parted for me and not one of them could have told you what I had just said.
Near the great doors, a man stood against the stone wall with his hands behind his back.
He wore a long travelling coat gone pale at the seams and his boots were muddy.
He was not on any list I knew of.
His lips were moving.
I slowed, because I thought he was praying.
He was saying it along with me, one half-breath behind, in the exact rhythm I had spoken it.
Isaveth Corrane.
He was looking straight at me, and he had not lost it.
I went through the doors with my heart pounding and did not stop until I reached the cold corridor beyond.
I heard his boots behind me.
"Majesty," he said.
"Don't," I said, without turning. "Whoever you are, it won't stay. It never does."
"Isaveth," said the man.
I stopped so hard that my slippers skidded on the stone.
He said it again, carefully.
"Isaveth Corrane, of Dunmarrow."
He took a breath.
"Your name is still written, my lady. It is in my Book, and it has been all along."
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend