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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The breakfast with the queen Mother could only be described as intense. From the first moment I had graced her presence, she speared me with a piercing assessing look that had tagged the deepest of my roots, making me slightly restless. She was a bit taller than me, orbs tainted with the palest shade of brown and dark, thick hair pulled into a perfect bun. She was clearly one of the most stunning women of her time even without a smile on her face.
“Mother,” It was easy to note the tad bit of edge in Leon’s voice. Was he scared of his mother?
“Son,” a brief smile touched the Queen’s lips as she glanced at his son but then her focus shifted back to me.
“Your highness,” I bowed my head slightly in respect and acknowledgment of the older
