The Queen had escorted us up to our room herself, Randall waiving off an Omega who had offered to carry our bags up, insisting he do it himself. Queen Cora smiled at that, occasionally glancing at him over her shoulder with a small smile. “He’s a good one,” she whispered to me and I couldn’t help but agree with her. He really is.
“I’ll send someone up in an hour to walk you down to his office,” she tells us before she left us. "Honestly, I don't know what he wants. Good luck."
I pace the room, unsure what to do. Perhaps it’s best that he wanted to speak as soon as we arrived. It leaves less time for me to sit and worry, but now I just don’t feel like I have enough time to prepare. Randall opens my bags, placing everything away for me and pulls out the dress I had brought to wear
