Page 7 of Unwilling Queen (Kingdoms #1)

Chapter

Seven

Colbie

S aturday morning, the streets in the neutral zone are even more hectic than the day before. Luckily for me, though, the curfew was still in affect when I walked to work, so I didn’t have to dodge mobs of edgy humans. As I look out the window and gape at the masses, I realize the trip back to my apartment after we close is going to be a nightmare.

We get a steady influx of people wanting takeaway coffees, but no one wants to give up their spot on the parade route long enough to sit for a meal, so I let the others go early. I can handle the takeaways on my own, and I know the three of them want to join the festivities.

The parade route doesn’t go past my bakery, but I know when it starts because my steady influx of customers dwindles to nothing. Sighing, I put up the closed sign and lock the front door early, then I return to the kitchen and make a new batch of bagels for Monday’s breakfast rush. Next, I prep some of the muffin and cupcake batters, measuring and mixing all the dry ingredients into portions for the different flavors. I’ll add the wet ingredients just before I bake them. I put lids on all the containers to keep any possible rodents or insects out and place them aside on the prep table, then I clean the coffee machine and wipe all surfaces down before hanging up my apron.

Flicking off the light, I pull the door closed behind me. The light is on inside the Romance Nest, and since I have a couple of free hours, I decide to pick up a new book to read. Maybe I’ll soak in my bath and enjoy a glass of wine as well. It’s been a long time since I wasn’t too tired to enjoy something like that. Hopefully with the parade today, Brock and Niles have forgotten all about my run-in with the watch at the beginning of the week.

Smiling with the decision, I push through the front door of the bookstore. The bell tinkles, letting Brock or Niles know someone is in their store. The place is deserted, but I hear noise downstairs. They are probably watching the broadcast of the parade. If I wanted to watch it, that’s how I would do it. There is no way I would squeeze myself into a crowd of people just to get a glimpse of the king and queens. Heck, I got my own private glimpse of the beautiful women yesterday.

I breathe in deeply and look around. There is just something about the smell of paper and ink that warms the soul. Now what do I want to read? Normally if I pick up a book, it will be a thriller or an action and adventure tale, but for some reason, I drift toward the paranormal romance section. I know it’s a popular genre, and Brock told me it’s his biggest seller, but the section sure is huge. I stare at it, feeling somewhat intimidated.

“Colbie?” I turn around to find Niles and Brock both watching me with small smirks. “Not watching the parade on this momentous occasion?” Niles asks, pushing a lock of blond hair behind his ear, his brown eyes shining with excitement.

I wrinkle my nose. “Pass. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it over the next few weeks from my customers. It doesn’t affect me, so I’m going to take advantage of a quiet day for some me time.”

Niles nods, a look of understanding crossing his face, but Brock practically bounces next to him with unrestrained joy. “But it’s a once in a lifetime event. Surely you must have had the thought that the new king or queen could be you?”

I frown, thinking about his words. “Um, no. I can be completely honest and say it has never once crossed my mind that I would be the unlucky human to be selected by the goddess.”

His eyebrows jump. “Really? You think the chosen human is unlucky?”

“Yeah, there’s no way I’d ever want that job. I pity the next human, whoever it is. I’m not sure I’m built to deal with that kind of upheaval. I would probably have a meltdown.”

“Huh.” Niles’s eyes narrow. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. I mean, the likelihood is slim, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Now, let’s pick a steamy romance for you to keep your mind off everything.” He steps up and runs his fingers over the bookshelf. “So what’s your poison? Vamps? Witches? Fae? What about some hunky shifters?” He pulls out a book and waves a hand like a game show host. “Now this has a cornucopia of shifter mates.”

“Mates? As in more than one?” I ask, and Brock chuckles.

“Yes, darling. Some lucky shifters get to share a mate between them,” Niles teases, even though I know he and Brock are a couple and perfectly happy, but I remember Violet said something similar. “Could you imagine having the attention of multiple men all focused on making every one of your desires come true?” He practically swoons, and Brock watches him with affection.

“Yes, this is definitely the kind of distraction you need today, I insist.” Niles drags me over to the counter and pops the book into a bag. I take out my phone to pay for it, but he waves it away. “No, this is our gift to you. All I ask is that you come by when you finish it and let me know what you thought, okay?”

I’m still feeling somewhat steamrolled as the two of them escort me to the door and practically push me out, but I guess I am distracting them from the parade coverage. I tell them goodbye, but they’ve already closed and locked their door. I guess they are not going to risk being interrupted again.

I walk down the now deserted streets toward my apartment, taking a different path than normal because the parade goes along a small section of my usual route. I can hear the roar of the crowd in the distance, and I grimace. Ugh, too many people all in one place for me.

I pick up some takeaway from a small Chinese restaurant which I’m sure is hoping to catch the after parade crowd, and then I grab a bottle of wine from the supermarket. The checkout clerk looks bored out of her mind. I’m her first customer since the parade started. She grumbles about having to work and missing it. I give her a fake smile of sympathy because I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s looking for, but as I leave the shop, I see her pick up her phone and hear the parade broadcast from its small screen. Well, at least she isn’t missing it completely.

Finally, I get home. The lights in Mom’s shop are off, and I consider stopping and seeing if she wants to share my bottle of wine, but then I remember her sending me a message saying she was invited to the retirement party, so she’s either in the middle of getting ready or has already left for the event. The queens must have issued her an invite yesterday, because she hadn’t mentioned being invited before, and she definitely would have mentioned it.

The elevator doors open on my level, and I tap my keycard against the sensor on my door and push it open. As I step through the doorway, I notice a fancy envelope on the floor like it was slipped under the door. I bend down to pick it up before going into the kitchen and putting my purchases on the island counter. The envelope is definitely made from good quality paper, and it has my name written on the front in elaborate calligraphy. On the back is a wax seal, and when I look closer, I see the royal standard stamped into the wax. Pursing my lips, I break the seal and pull out the card. It’s an invite to the retirement party. A small note flutters out, and I read it.

It was lovely seeing you yesterday. We would all love it if you could attend our retirement party. Maybe you can reconnect with our children.

It’s signed by all three queens.

For the smallest moment, I consider finding a dress and going, but then the smell of my takeaway drifts to my nose, and I look down at my book and bottle of wine.

It was a nice gesture, but it’s not really how I want to spend my day. I place the invite off to the side and head into the bathroom to run a bath. I’m really not the rubbing elbows with royalty kind, unlike my mother. A bubble bath, a rosé, and a good book are much more in my wheelhouse.

I splash some bubble bath that my mom gave me into the water. The scent of freesias fills my bathroom, and I smile. It’s my mom’s signature scent, one that has always brought me both comfort and heartache over the years.

When I was smaller, Mom was loving and kind and wonderful, teaching me to sew at her work desk and encouraging me to express myself creatively, but as I became older, her expectations of me have made my life difficult. It seems like nothing I do is ever quite good enough.

There’s also my lack of desire to be a social butterfly like her. She has a thriving social calendar, and I’m glad it keeps her mostly out of my hair. If only she would stop nagging me to have one too. Up until now, all my focus has been on creating a thriving business so that at least she might be proud of that. Now that my business is settled and booming, perhaps I’ll take her advice and have a look at one of those dating apps. I’m not having any luck meeting men at work. They don’t even register me as a person behind the counter, which is kind of a kick to the self-esteem.

While the bath fills, I pour myself a large glass of wine and prepare a bowl of rice and beef with broccoli. As I eat, I cave to my curiosity and switch the television on, changing the channel to the one dedicated to everything royal for the next few weeks. There are a couple of royal commentators discussing key points of King Lucas’s rule with a background of the parade route. The streets in front of the hotel where the retirement party is being held are chock-full of cheering humans, while the street directly in front is lined with limousines dropping off the wealthy and influential people who all managed to score an invite to the retirement party. I watch with interest as the commentators break off the subject they are talking about to announce the arrival of the vampire king and his consorts. Like King Lucas, the vampire king has three wives. All of them are as gorgeous as the shifter queens, but they have this kind of cold grace to them. They almost float across the ground, like statues come to life. There are no emotions on their faces, just blank stares. All four of them stop to pose for the cameras, which focus on them, and the vamp king winks at the camera and flashes a fang-filled smile. The crowd screams like he’s a pop star or a famous actor before they continue on their way, and I tune back into whatever the commentators are saying.

“Just like the kingdom of Aramis, the other kingdoms have the same kind of royalty succession. Next year, it will be King Victor’s retirement year, and some lucky human from Eryx will be crowned the next vamp king or queen,” the male commentator explains.

The female commentator screws up her nose. “I don’t envy them one bit. Imagine needing to drink blood to survive.” She gags slightly, which I think is super rude. The male commentator obviously agrees, because he scowls at her before plastering on a mischievous smile.

“I don’t know… Rumor has it there is something inherently sexual about blood exchanges. Sounds like a fun time to me.” The female stares at him with disgust, but he ignores her and tries his best to get the broadcast back on track. I’m sure the network does not want to make enemies of the vampire kingdom, and he’s working hard to deal with her faux pas.

“Let’s go to a quick commercial break before the next exciting guest arrives.” He smiles brightly at the camera, and a commercial comes on.

I use the remote to turn the TV off, absently wondering if that woman is going to have a job come Monday morning. I recognize them as the hosts of the popular morning program in Aramis, so maybe she will be okay.

I place my bowl in the sink and return to find my bath at the perfect height and temperature. Stripping, I sink into warm water and groan, closing my eyes and resting my head on the padded cushion. For a few moments, I just revel in the feeling of relaxation. It’s been a long time since I really let myself unwind and breathe. I free my mind of all my worries and let my mind drift over inconsequential things. Small little snippets of memories float to the surface of my brain—a tea party under my mom’s cutting table, giggling with three other children, a young boy with unusual silver and black hair and dark sapphire blue eyes helping me pour my teapot when my arm was broken, a small dark girl with a shock of curly black hair telling me that my cookies are the best she ever tasted, and a girl with blonde pigtails with pretty purple ribbons tied in them wrapping her arms around me, telling me that I smelled good and that she loved me.

My eyes pop open, and water sloshes over the edge as I sit up. “Whoa.” I guess seeing the queens yesterday brought my memories to the surface. I smile as a feeling of happiness washes over me. I loved my friends so much. I guess my brain was trying to protect me by forgetting them. I now remember how I felt when Mom told me they wouldn’t be coming to visit again. I press my hand against my chest as the feeling of absolute sadness batters my soul. No wonder I latched onto baking. I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. It’s not surprising that I decided to avoid any solid friendship after that.

Brushing away the hurt and loneliness, I dry off my hands and reach for the book sitting on the little tray across my bath. Yes, it’s indulgent, but having somewhere to put my glass of wine and phone is so handy. My phone buzzes with an incoming message, and I look at the screen, seeing it’s from my mother. I make the decision to ignore it. I’m sure I will receive an earful of her ire tomorrow, but parties are not my scene. I’m sure the queens won’t even notice that I am not in attendance.

Taking a large sip of wine, I open my book, ready to delve into a life other than mine. I’m certain this female main character’s life will be exponentially more interesting.