Chapter 7: The Queen's Tea

The Queen sent a card on the morning of the third day.

It was cream paper with a gold edge.

It said, in a round sweet hand, that she hoped her dear Ximena would take tea.

"You don't have to go," Bastian said at breakfast.

He sat across from me at a table laid for twelve, in his shirtsleeves, with a cup in his big hand.

"If I don't go, she says I'm afraid," I said.

"Are you?" he asked.

"A little. I'll eat first."

He looked at my plate, which held three eggs and a roll, and his mouth twitched.

"I'll be in the Chamber," he said. "Send for me."

"I won't need you."

"I know," he said, and kissed my hand under the table, and left.

I went to tea with my chin up.

The Queen's tea room was all gilt and lilac, with a long table.

Twenty ladies of the court sat in rows, murmuring.

Inés sat at the Queen's left hand in a plain blue dress.

She looked up when I came in and then at her cup.

"My dear Ximena," the Queen said. "Sit by me."

She patted the chair on her right.

It was a small gilt chair with spindly legs and a seat the width of a hat box.

The room went quiet.

Every lady had turned to look at the chair, and then at me.

I felt it settle on my skin.

I looked at the chair.

Then I looked at the Queen's smile.

[Social scripted event: The Little Chair.]

[+10 pending.]

"Majesty," I said, "this chair will not take me."

"Oh, will it not?" the Queen said. "How unfortunate. I do hope it isn't the only one in the house."

A lady laughed behind her fan.

"It is not," I said. "The Lord Justice sent a wider one the first day."

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