Chapter 3
1115 Words
When Aaron arrived at the Queen's Garden Party, he knew immediately that there would be trouble. He looked out of place and was poorly dressed, so when he approached the gate with a hopeful smile, “Good morning. I’m here for the garden party.”
The security, expressionless behind mirrored sunglasses, didn’t return the smile. “Invitation, sir?”
Aaron hesitated. “I…I don’t have one. But Lady Seraphina’s daughter knows me. I’m her…”
“No invitation, no entry,” the security interrupted, already turning to wave the next guest forward.
“I understand,” Aaron said quickly. “But if you could just let her know I’m here…”
“Step aside, sir.”
Aaron's face flushed. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need to get in.”
“Sir,” the security officer said firmly, “you’re holding up the line.”
Across the lawn, a woman pointed at him to her companion at him. “Isn’t that Aaron Mills? The one who went to jail?”
Her friend chuckled. “He looks like he borrowed that suit from a charity bin.”
“He looks homeless, too.”
They giggled. But Aaron heard them all.
A black limousine hummed to a stop at the entrance of the red carpet and the driver with gloved fingers rushed to open the door. Out stepped Gray Mills, Aaron’s stepbrother, in a white tuxedo that gleamed like arrogance itself. On his arm was Lucy, radiant in a gown of emerald silk.
Gray spotted Aaron instantly and smirked. “Still trying to sneak into places you don’t belong, Aaron ?”
Aaron's jaw tightened. “I’m not sneaking. I just wanted to speak with Lady Shirley.”
Lucy laughed, her voice like glass. “Maybe they’ve got a spare apron inside. You could help clear the dishes.”
Aaron looked at her, his voice low. “You look… different.”
“Marriage suits me,” she said sweetly. “Unlike desperation.”
Gray handed their invitation to the guard with a flourish. “Unlike some people, we were actually invited.”
The gates opened wide for them. As they walked past, Gray leaned in just enough to whisper, “You should’ve stayed in the shadows, brother. That’s where you shine.”
Aaron didn’t respond. If only they knew they were mocking the new mayor of London.
Watched them disappear into the garden amidst rounds of applause and admiration.
Suddenly, the rounds of applause and gasps of admiration were drowned out by the rev of a custom-made Pagani Huayra Mercedes which pulled up to the entrance.
Heads turned.
The car doors hummed open and out stepped master Laywone. His shoulders raised like he had just finished a thirty-minute meeting with Zeus.
He didn’t glance at anyone as he walked as his presence sliced through the crowd like a blade.
He paused when he got to Aaron.
“Who let the houseboy wander this close?”
Everyone laughed, even the security chuckled.
Aaron blinked. “I’m not…”
Laywone leaned closely and whispered. “I'm not interested in whatever you're doing here, but please, don't act like you know from anywhere?
He shoved past his shoulder, knocking Aaron off balance. “Get this lowlife off this ground. Security, remove him before he embarrasses the Queen.”
The security moved instantly.
“Sir, you’ll need to leave,” one said, gripping Aaron's arm.
“I’m not causing any trouble,” Aaron replied, his voice calm but tight. “I just wanted to…”
The security pulled his baton and advanced.
“Sir, I don't want to ask you twice,” he said, “You need to take your leave, NOW!”
“Hey!...Wait!”
A woman was shot from the crowd. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as she leveled her way towards Aaron. Her smile looked like they were carved at Mount Olympus.
“Wait!” she called, raising a hand. “Are you Mr. Aaron ?”
Aaron blinked. “Yes… I am.”
She stopped in front of him, her tone was now softer and kinder. “Why didn’t you identify yourself?”
“I tried,” Aaron said, glancing at the Security. “But they weren’t exactly interested.”
The woman turned to the security detail. “Stand down immediately. This gentleman is not just an invitee, he’s the VVIP guest of honour.”
The guards froze. One stammered, “Ma’am, we weren’t informed…”
“You are now,” she said crisply. “The Queen herself approved of his attendance. The party cannot begin without him.”
Everyone gasped in surprise. They had never witnessed such a manner of thing before.
“Did she say guest of honour?”
“That can’t be the same Aaron Mills.”
The woman offered Aaron her arm. “Please, Mr. Aaron . Allow me to escort you.”
Aaron followed her as they walked through the security check, he caught the eye of the woman who had mocked his suit earlier. Her mouth hung open.
They entered the garden where the Queen and other high-profile dignitaries sat underneath a golden canopy. She rose as Aaron approached, her smile warm and genuine.
“Mr. Mills,” she said, extending her hand. “We’re honoured by your presence.”
“Your Majesty.” He bowed slightly.
Aaron took his place beside the Prime Minister and the French Ambassador. A steward whispered something to the Queen, and she nodded.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “we shall now begin the toast, delayed, of course, until our guest of honour arrives.”
Crystal glasses were raised as Aaron lifted his, clinking gently with the Queen’s.
From across the garden, Gray and Lucy sat frozen at their table.
“Is this the wretched Aaron we know or is there another Aaron we don't know of?”
Gray asked out of confusion.
“He’s sitting next to the Queen. Next to the Queen.”
Lucy couldn't believe her eyes.
Gray leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Aaron's conversation. “He was supposed to be a nobody.”
Lucy didn’t respond. Her gaze was locked on Aaron , who now laughed politely at something the Prime Minister said.
A few seats away, Master Laywone, who had shoved Aaron, watched in stunned silence. His earlier swagger had vanished, and he now leaned toward a guest beside him.
“Is that Aaron?” he whispered.
The guest shrugged. “Apparently, someone important enough to delay the Queen’s toast.”
Laywone shrugged. “Unbelievable.”
And just after the national anthem ended, the garden party began in full swing.
- Writer
