5. The Dichotomy of Monarchs and Chefs

“Theonia was discovered and claimed by Britain in the early 1500s, the colonists that established the early settlement - which would become National City - seceded from the British Empire around the same time as Jamestown was built in 1607. The reason for this is that Theonia’s natural resources hadn't been discovered below the surface of the earth and when America was founded, becoming a focal point of European colonisation, less and less resources were sent over to this island due to our lacklustre returns. The rebellion and war that followed was led by Theodore Luthor, my ancestor and, the first king of this country that was soon named after him once they succeeded in repelling the British forces.”

Kara listened attentively from the back of the group of reporters as the Queen led them all down a corridor in the East Wing. Following what could only be described as Kara’s worst nightmare brought to life, the Queen had gracefully moved into action, requesting that they all clear the area to prevent injury and then asking a couple of guards to stay behind to organise the clean up.

Kara was desperate to apologise and explain but when she hurried forwards to catch the Queen’s attention, the raven haired woman had flashed her a cool gaze which had Kara’s jaw snapping shut and her feet feeling like cinder blocks, allowing the reporters to push past her causing her to fall to the back of the crowd once again. The Queen addressed the entire group once they had left the atrium, making it clear that she was simply thankful no one had been hurt and then she continued the tour as if nothing had happened.

Sam sought out Kara, giving her a reassuring smile and murmuring for her not to worry about it, that accidents happen and the Queen won’t hold it against her even slightly. Kara couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that, especially considering how the Queen treated her from then on.

That’s not to say the Queen was rude or anything of the like.

In fact she was absolutely polite, professional, well mannered and positively charming to the wider crowd.

The issue was that the Queen was nothing like the chef.

The chef had looked at Kara with bright, open, almost vulnerable eyes, whilst the Queen had a guarded, cold gaze.

The chef had smiled widely and crookedly, flashing a rare one-sided dimple, whilst the Queen’s smile was restrained, welcoming but not soft and warm.

The chef had lounged, slouched, flirted coyly and joked whilst the Queen spoke precisely, with clipped, carefully selected words and stood up straight, holding her head high.

It was a duality Kara didn’t know what to make of.

There was the chef and the Queen, but which one was Lena?

“Most people believe that the national language of Theonia is English due to it being the most common spoken language in the country.” Kara let out a wistful sigh, pushing down her disquieting thoughts and striving to listen to everything the Queen was sharing with them, something she had been looking forward to since seeing the Palace tour on the itinerary.

After the atrium the reporters were led into the East Wing, which housed the royal apartments and offices. The walls in the east wing were purple or white, matching the royal colours and there were portraits on every surface of severe looking men and women bedecked in jewels and ruffles. The Queen had brought them into a long corridor at the back of the Palace, one wall was made up of windows looking out onto the Palace gardens whilst the other wall was crammed full of pictures, paintings and photos. The Queen came to a stop in front of the wall of images, Kara had to balance perilously on tiptoe to get a good view, and directed the attention of the crowd to various pictures.

The first painting, the Queen highlighted, was of early Theonians constructing timber buildings and preparing to go out hunting. The impeccably drawn out people seemed hard at work and all appeared halfway through gesturing although none looked like they were speaking or on the verge of speaking. Kara really hoped that James, who had managed to nab a spot at the front of the group, was taking as many pictures as possible so she could inspect the images that she was missing out on later.

“In fact, our national language is a form of sign language referred to as TSL.” The Queen explained with a proud smile, pointing out the gesturing figures in the various portraits.

Kara’s eyebrows raised in surprise at that revelation, prompting her to continue with her copious note taking as her mind rethought the tour of the university yesterday and how in the lesson she had sat in on there had been an interpreter present translating the professor's teaching into a sign language that Kara hadn't been even slightly able to comprehend. Kara had assumed that there had been a deaf student in the class but she was now re-thinking that assessment and wondering if this was actually standard for all educational institutions. Kara quickly noted down an array of questions related to this concept that she intended to ask the education secretary when CatCo interviewed them.

“In the early days of Theonia’s establishment as an independent nation, we were forced to become more self sufficient having lost support and trade from Britain. Whilst setting up agricultural space to farm, hunting was a necessary skill everyone had to learn if they wanted to survive. Sign language became the main form of communication between hunting parties to prevent frightening away prey. TSL became widespread and gave us crucial advantages when fending off the numerous invasion attempts over the centuries.”

Kara adored how passionately the Queen spoke about her country, how she seemed to revel in the details of her nation’s history. It was a reassuring and wondrous sight to behold; it was the closest the Queen had resembled the chef so far and it caused the band around Kara’s heart that had been uncomfortably tight to loosen ever so slightly, making it easier to breathe.

Kara, however, was acutely aware that the Queen had not looked her way for the entire tour even though she regularly swept her gaze over the crowd, pausing to make eye contact with everyone so they all felt included and valued.

Except Kara.  

Not once did those green eyes seek out her own.

It was making Kara twitchy.

“If you keep jerking around like that and nearly falling over on tiptoes, I’m pretty sure the guards will wrestle you to the ground.” Kara jumped to the side at the sudden voice in her ear and Winn had to grab her arm to help her regain her balance, preventing her from falling into a stone vase and causing yet another mess.

“How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?” Kara whispered harshly to the tech expert, smiling apologetically at the reporters who had seemed almost ready to run clear of the disaster area when they saw her jolt unexpectedly. “You can’t have forgotten your trip to the ER already.”

Winn blanched and took a nervous step away from her, muttering an awkward, “Whoops.”

Kara sighed nudging Winn with her elbow affectionately, “Shush, I want to learn.”

“Nerd.” Winn smirked at her, dragging the insult out with a fond twinkle in his eyes. Kara couldn’t help the smile that consumed her features, knowing that Winn had sought her out to distract her from the embarrassment of earlier in whatever way he could.

“And proud.” Kara bit back, winking at Winn before returning to watch the Queen only to find those cold green eyes darting away from her, preventing eye contact at the last second. Kara pouted dejectedly at missing out on the Queen’s attention, confusion wrinkling her brow when it seemed like the Queen’s polite expression became just that little bit more forced after that.

The rest of the tour was pretty straightforward and seemed almost rushed from that moment onward.

The Queen continued her detailed history of the country but there wasn’t that spark Kara had caught a glimpse of earlier. The passion and eagerness to share her nation’s secrets had extinguished itself in the space of a few seconds. The tour for the most part kept to ‘old’ history, everyone noting how the Queen stopped her teachings of the past at her grandfather’s reign, not going into her father’s or brother’s time as rulers.

The Queen finished the tour with the royal offices that were a constant bustle of activity, the people working there only pausing in their running about and conversations when the Queen entered. They all stopped what they were doing to bow their heads, falling silent and waiting for the Queen’s permission to continue which she gave without hesitation, a proud smile momentarily illuminating her face at the sight of their hard work and respect.

Many of the news outlets were disappointed that they weren’t shown the royal apartments but Kara wasn’t overly surprised considering how the Queen had diplomatically avoided personal questions, consistently twisting the question round to put focus on her country and its inhabitants over herself. The Queen took her leave with a respectful nod of her head and the promise that she was looking forward to getting to know the reporters better over the course of their stay and during their various interviews.

As soon as the tour was finished, Sam led them all back to the atrium where Kara stared shamefacedly at the now empty spot which had once housed a beautifully carved statue. Everyone in the crowd was buzzing and desperate to be set free so they could upload the money shot to their respective websites.

Sam dismissed them all with a rueful grin and a roll of her eyes, “Go on, hurry back to your computers. Lunch is in half-an-hour, so please... find time to eat.” The tour guide ordered with a tone of motherly exasperation. “And don’t forget the first round of interviews are this afternoon, rooms have been set up for you to use and any of the guards can take you to where you need to go if you are unsure. Tardiness will be noted and I can guarantee you that I will name and shame without hesitation.” With that final threat, Sam waved her hand dismissing the group and granting them their freedom.

The CatCo crew raced back to their rooms where James and Winn selected the best pictures and rushed to upload them, Kara giving her opinion where she could even though it drastically differed from her work colleagues.

The boys preferred the photo of the Queen on the stairs in the atrium when she had first introduced herself. She was stood tall and poised, her head held high and posture impeccable, every muscle precisely controlled and her expression sharper making her appear older and more world weary. Kara understood why they thought this image was the best option, it epitomised what the wider world would expect regal to look like.

Kara, however, found the more candid shot James had taken during the early parts of the tour when the Queen had been at her most alive and excited far more captivating, which her colleagues found odd to say the least. They didn’t overly see the appeal, especially when James pointed out the poor lighting and how he had caught the Queen mid word, giving her a strange facial movement. Kara quickly rushed to make an excuse that explained her strange fascination, going the route of ‘well, everyone will be uploading the staircase photo’. Winn and James exchanged a look before returning to the computer and ignoring Kara’s disgruntled murmurings as she decided to go over interview prep.

When James offered Kara the photos from today for her perusal, knowing she would appreciate the shots of the artwork and historical pieces, Kara didn’t even hesitate to copy over that one particular photo she had found so entrancing of the Queen onto her hard drive. She hid the photo in an album, burying it alongside the pictures of the more mundane artifacts that would never interest James and Winn enough to scour through.

Kara had to force herself not to linger too long on the photo or the warm, fluffy feelings that came with it.

Lunch was a rushed affair, the various journalists scoffing the prepared food quickly, trying to maximise their time to juggle writing up the tour they received from the Queen alongside interview preparation. The CatCo team struggled at this stage, with only the one dedicated writer having to take the lionshare of the workload. Set job titles and descriptions, however, didn’t prevent James or Winn from leaping forward to provide support in whatever capacity they could.

James would openly admit to not being an accomplished writer, lacking the ability, as he would often say, to ‘eloquently narrate the heart of the matter’. He was, though, an extraordinarily good editor, knowing how to improve and enhance an article whether by changing the sentence structure or requesting greater focus on a certain idea or facet of the story, he also had great intuition about what recommendations Snapper would make.

For the big stories that they would produce (interactions with the Queen and interviews with various members of the government) during their trip to Theonia, it was required for them to send the story over to Snapper for editing before uploading to ensure everything was factually accurate and written to the best quality possible. James, therefore, stepped up to read and edit everything Kara had generated so far, reducing the delay that Snapper’s review would have on publishing.

Winn, in turn, tackled interview prep, reading through Kara’s meticulous notes and even going so far as to use, what he lovingly referred to as, Kara’s Theonia Thesis to start work on fact checking the information and refining the questions. Kara’s love for her friends and team increased beyond measure as they all dug in, without even a whisper of complaint, to support her. She couldn’t help noticing that the overly large LYNX crew that was sat across from them in the dining hall also seemed stressed and struggling but they were all working very independently.

M’gann M’orzz, Theonia’s selected ambassador to the UN, was probably the most unflappable person Kara had ever met.

The ambassador was smart as a whip with a well-reasoned answer to every question and an aura of tranquility that could easily calm even the most heated of debates. It was easy to see why she had been chosen to be Theonia’s most prominent diplomat to the rest of the world in a matter of minutes

Kara loved interviewing people and the entire process that surrounded it. She loved the research beforehand, crafting the topics and the main fixture questions that would act as a starting point. She loved getting to know the interviewee, picking up on their idiosyncrasies, working out what they were excited to talk about, what disinterested them and what they tried to avoid talking about. She loved digging into their answers, fine tuning her prompting questions to get that little bit of added detail or tucked away secret that would reveal a whole other dimension to the person or issue.

M’gann was incredible due to the sheer challenge she presented to Kara.

The ambassador had an impeccable answer for every question Kara threw at her and the journalist found herself pushing and digging that little bit more than intended. M’gann seemed to enjoy the interview, her amusement making an appearance though a slight quirk to her eyebrow and by the more obvious statement of allowing their interview to run half-an-hour longer than intended, to the great frustration of the ambassador’s secretary who grew increasingly fidgety with each minute over the schedule.  

“That went well, I think…”, Kara murmured to Winn once M’gann had said farewell and headed off, leaving them to tidy up the room and organise the notes and recordings they had taken.

James had been there at the beginning to snap a few photos of M’gann but took his leave before the interview started in earnest, knowing Kara liked interviews to feel more like a conversation than an interrogation with an audience. Winn stayed, tucked away in the back of the room, next to the ambassador’s secretary, monitoring the recording equipment that Kara would use to write up the interview and working on some coding that he had been developing for the CatCo website.

“Well?” Winn repeated, shaking his head in disbelief before grabbing Kara’s shoulders to shake them, “That was incredible!” He practically yelled, causing Kara to grin broadly and blush with pride. “We got so much good information! Yeah, people might go to LYNX first to skim read the Queen’s interview but we…”

Kara cocked her head to the side as Winn squeezed her shoulders before letting her go. “We got the stuff that matters .” Kara succinctly summed up, absolutely buzzing from the high the interview had generated.  

Winn nodded in agreement, his eyes shining in wonderment, his general joy for the work that had faltered upon hearing the interview schedule having finally returned at full strength.

Kara shared his enthusiasm and joy, the interview having restored her faith in the work she was doing. She had hated the superficiality of the money shot and everything that it had represented, by removing it from the equation before the interviews, the journalists would be forced to bring attention to other varied topics from one another. Learning Theonia’s plan to develop in the international community was a golden opportunity and Kara hoped she had made the most of it.

The interview had also helped with regards to more… personal matters.

It had provided an incredible distraction (for the most part) from the Queen, who was now permanently invading Kara’s thoughts.

There had been more than one occasion where Kara, probably unnoticeably, faltered when M’gann would reference Queen Lena’s input and support on numerous matters. Any references to the Queen had Kara’s stomach fluttering and her mind unnecessarily reminding her that this incredibly intelligent woman had spent all of last night listening to Kara ramble away, letting her mock her relentlessly about her failure to master the art of the souffle. Once that mental reminder kicked Kara, she was then forced to try (and fail) to hide the swoon that followed whatever incredible thing M’gann revealed the Queen had done. Kara is convinced the ambassador picked up on her light blush when M’gann mentioned the Queen’s desire to encourage Theonian schools in the future to get involved in international competitions and take students abroad, wanting young people to see as much of the world as possible.  

“I think even Snapper might be impressed.” Winn commented thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he might only rip into about eighty percent of it, which is a vast improvement over the ninety percent he usually thinks is rubbish.” Kara said, tapping her chin to appear in great deliberation.

“Woah, Kara, come on be realistic…” Winn stated, totally serious as he stared her down causing Kara to blink in surprise, unused to that particular tone from her friend, “Snapper will find eighty seven percent shit and will then send you a stern reminder to not let it go to your head.”

Kara snorted inelegantly, opened her mouth to snark back when-

“Excuse me, Miss Danvers?”

Kara and Winn both jolted at the sudden appearance of a third voice. Winn flinched backwards, nearly stumbling into the now empty chair the ambassador had occupied, whilst Kara spun round raising her fists and barely resisting the urge to punch forward like her sister had taught her.

A small woman with black hair and brown eyes was stood in the doorway dressed in a purple mottled skirt, cream shirt and purple cardigan, her ensemble was accentuated by chunky costume jewellery. Her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and in her hands was a sleek tablet. The woman’s face was blank, not reacting even remotely to Kara’s attack posture, instead she merely pursed her lips into a tight frown of irritation at the reporters’ lack of a verbal response.

“Miss Danvers?” The woman repeated a little bit more forcefully.

“Errr… yes…”, Kara stuttered out, lowering her raised arms with an apologetic smile whilst Winn righted himself, eyeing the newcomer and Kara, struggling to decide whether to stick by his friend’s side or retreat back to the corner of the room and not attract the ire of this already terrifying woman anymore than necessary.

“Please, come with me.” The woman ordered, stepping to the side and gesturing with a robotic movement to the doorway.

Kara glanced over to the tech expert that had been unsubtly tiptoeing backwards to abandon her at the first chance and whispered, “Coward”, accompanied by a scornful roll of her eyes. She then gulped and cautiously stepped forwards, “Sure… umm… any chance you can tell me where we’re going?” Kara asked with trepidation.

The woman, with a demeanour far more terrifying than the entire heavily armed royal guard division put together, merely frowned harder and strode out of the room with the expectation that Kara would follow quietly behind her.

“Here’s hoping the dungeons are nice this time of year…”, Kara mumbled under her breath, her smile faltering and sliding off her face as she hurried after the flash of purple.

The woman didn’t once glance back to check that Kara was keeping up with her unbelievably fast pace considering her short-legged stature; the blonde was forced to more or less keep up an undignified jog to ensure she wasn’t left behind or got lost due to the number of turns the woman took without hesitation. Anxiety began to dig its claws in and settle ominously over Kara, her mind whirring through potential horrific scenarios presenting itself like trailers for crappy B horror movies.

Had she overstepped in the interview?

Was she going to be punished for breaking the statue?

Flown home early, flanked by royal guards, and disallowed from ever returning?

Just as Kara was imagining a particularly dark version of her future that involved her spending twenty years in the dungeon, the tunnel for freedom she had been digging for that entire time having been discovered causing her to be dragged to face the executioner, who-

The woman came to an abrupt stop resulting in Kara coming to even more abrupt stop when she walked straight into her chaperone’s back.

“I am so sor-”, Kara began to ramble out, her hands waving around erratically and her eyes spinning in her sockets to try and see the executioner she was now convinced was going to step out of the shadows and apprehend her.

Kara’s escort let out a deep sigh of such despondency, Kara was tempted to call a depression hotline on her behalf, then opened the door they had come to a standstill in front of, finally making Kara aware of her surroundings for the first time during their twisty journey. Kara was momentarily pleased to recognise her location as being outside the Royal offices, that joy was quickly replaced with a sudden panic upon realising just who she was probably about to see.

She would take the executioner’s axe over those no longer caring green eyes any day of the week.

Kara swallowed thickly before following the Palace worker into the extremely busy office, relieved to find no one looked up at her (appreciating the lack of scrutiny from such a large crowd), and to a heavy wooden door emblazoned with the three white lines of the Royal family. The attendant knocked three times without hesitation and a familiar voice (even if it was lacking the warmth Kara had come to associate with it) called out, “Enter.”

The Palace worker, stepped to the side, her hand wrapping around the door handle ready to pull it open whilst her eyes swept over Kara’s person clearly sizing her up in an attempt to figure out what it was about her that warranted Kara being granted an audience she hadn’t even actively sought.

Kara tried to force even breaths, out to and into her lungs, to calm the strange mix of butterflies and warm, fluffy feelings that came with the chef alongside the dread and deep-seated anxiety that she was starting to associate with the Queen. Before her heart had the chance to return to a more reasonable rhythm, the door was swung open and the Palace worker was jerking her head for Kara to step inside, her feet instinctively complying whilst the rest of her body screamed at her to run in the opposite direction.

Once inside, the escort announced, “Kara Danvers for you, your majesty.” Kara glanced over her shoulder only to see the door swinging shut and clicking sinisterly into place.

Kara’s hands flexed fearfully at her sides, and she had to fight desperately against the urge to adjust the glasses on her face. She looked around quickly taking in her surroundings.

The office wasn’t what Kara had been expecting in the slightest, especially after seeing the Royal offices that consisted of dark wooden desks, deep purple walls and furniture that you would expect in a stately home that didn’t understand the benefits of modernisation.

The Queen’s office, however, was a marvellous swirl of old and new.

The walls were a lighter purple, closer to lilac, and most were lined with bookshelves filled with heavy texts on subjects Kara couldn’t even begin to understand. Most of the room was taken up by a long, oval-shaped conference table which had high-back chairs with the royal sigil carved into the design. The back of the room had long, expansive windows which looked out on the landscaped garden, unfortunately the occupant of the room would be unable to see this amazing view without turning around from the large desk positioned in front of the glass.

The desk, like the conference table, was made of Birch in opposition to the darker shades of wood used throughout the offices, and was clutter free for the most part, a single piece of paper to one side with a fine blue fountain pen laying on top, a tablet like the one the escort had was in the centre, the screen dim and locked, whilst an impressive computer screen took up the final third of the space available. Not a single thing was out of place.  

Kara took in every little detail, trying to reconcile the design with the two halves of the green-eyed woman and slowly something less terrifying settled in her stomach upon realising the room was almost a perfect reflection of both the professional Queen and the youth of the chef.

“Kara Danvers, reporter for CatCo media.”

Kara’s gaze shifted and settled on the raven haired woman sat in the brown leather chair behind the desk, leaning back with her hands clasped over her stomach, her elbows resting on either arm of her seat. The Queen’s eyes were dark and empty, her face perfectly blank but Kara knew she was being studied, being examined intently behind the mask and she couldn’t stop herself from squirming uncomfortably.

“And you- you’re-... the err… umm… well… the Qu-”, Kara nervously stuttered unsure what to do with hands and how she should stand. Her knees bent and unbent strangely trying to do a curtsey whilst her hands flapped without purpose by her side.

The Queen’s mask vanished to be replaced with a furrowed brow, confused eyes, and pursed lips, “What are you doing?”

Kara froze in a completely unbalanced position, her muscles tensing pathetically to try and stop herself from falling over, “Ummm… curtseying? Or should I be bowing? I don’t really know the protocol here.”

Kara knew she was in a level five ramble, knew that her words were coming out at such an incoherent pace, even Alex would struggle to understand her but Kara could do absolutely nothing to stop the flood. It was as if, since shattering the statue earlier that day, Kara had taken a vow of silence that she was finally being granted the freedom to break.

“I know Sam - our tour guide - curtsied but I didn’t know if that was because of her position in the royal staff. Do men bow and women curtsey? Is that a thing? I always thought that was a bit unfair as curtseying is far harder than bowing. I mean bowing is just leaning forward.” Kara without even thinking about it bowed the top half of her body forward in demonstration, forgetting during her speech her already precarious position that was further unbalanced when she attempted her display.

Kara let out a light yelp, her arms pinwheeling futilely, before she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

“It would appear ‘just leaning forward’ is a skill not everyone possesses.” The Queen commented drily, standing up from her desk to peer over it and see the crumpled figure on the floor that was currently CatCo’s finest. Kara sprung back up to her feet with the speed of a child that had tripped over their own shoelaces and wanted to get right back to playing with their friends.

Kara forced a smile as the Queen raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and the blonde tried to ignore the sad kick to the stomach that came with not seeing that flicker of concern the chef had when Kara had fallen the first time. “Sorry about that… err… your majesty?” Kara apologised.

The Queen’s hands that had been resting on the desk lightly, moved to curl and grip the edge as if looking for support, “Sorry, for what?” The Queen asked coolly.

“Err… for… uhh… falling over… for not greeting you the right way…?” Kara guessed, her voice going up several octaves as the Queen remained completely stoic. “Oh, oh,” Kara gasped out, her mind kicking into gear, “The statue! I’m sorry I broke your peace… statue… thing.”

The Queen shook her head dismissively and Kara couldn’t stop herself from deflating, feeling as if she had a failed some sort of crucial test at that moment. “The statue clearly wasn’t suitably tied down, the fault lies with me.”

Kara tilted her head to the side and shot the Queen, a small, shy smile, “Good manners prevents me from letting you take all of the blame.” She hoped the gentle callback to their first interaction would cause the Queen’s features to soften and for her eyes to change from guarded back to that bright, vulnerable green.

Those gentle words instead had the opposite effect.

The Queen’s frown grew even harsher and her knuckles turned white as they gripped the edge of her desk. “It seems you have been taking careful note of our conversations from the outset.” The Queen commented, and Kara flinched at the accusation hidden below the surface.

“Wait, I thi-”, Kara began to interrupt, her heart sinking pre-emptively.

“With that in mind, I have already crafted a response for the inevitable articles you will have written.” The Queen’s right hand snatched up the piece of paper on her desk as she leaned over to, more or less, shove it into Kara’s hands.

“Hold on a sec-”, Kara begged her gaze flicking rapidly between the carefully typed up statement to the Queen who was speaking with that same distant clipped tone from earlier.

“No further comment will be provided by me or this office. Now, I believe you have everything you wanted,” The Queen continued, blatantly ignoring Kara’s attempts to speak and the increasingly distraught expression on her face, “please, be so kind as to show yourself out.” With that final command, the Queen pointed imperiously to the door.

Kara simply stared at the Queen, her heart hollowed out by the dismissal that was such a stark contrast to how, literally less than twenty-four hours ago, the raven haired woman had admitted to wanting nothing more than to see her again. “I had no idea you were the Queen!” Kara exclaimed honestly resulting in a poorly concealed scoff from the monarch. “I swear!”

“Really?” The Queen muttered in disbelief accompanied by the roll of her eyes.

“Yes, really!” Kara defended, her eyes wide and pleading. “You must have realised by now that I didn’t know who you were! I asked you your name, for goodness sake!” Kara cried out with a wave of her arm as if hoping the action would prompt the Queen to cast her mind back. “I wasn’t taking notes of our conversations and I have no intention of writing about any of it.” Kara said softly, beseeching the Queen to have a little more faith in her.

The Queen’s lip twitched and Kara was convinced she had gotten through to the dark haired woman when, “If that’s true, why would you duck down and hide in the crowd this morning?”

Kara flinched at the question, confusion clouding her thoughts, “What?”

The Queen relinquished her grip on the desk and crossed her arms over her chest, raising her head adding to the effect already created by her killer heels that she was towering over Kara, “You think I didn’t notice that you were trying to hide at the back? That your attempts to go unseen was what resulted in you knocking the statue over.”

“I-... I-” Kara stuttered, remembering that flash of hurt that crossed the Queen’s face upon seeing her, adding painful clarity to the past.

“I am willing to accept that you may not have realised who I was when we first met, and I will take more than the fair share of blame in not figuring out you were a journalist instead of Palace staff, but you hid .” The Queen practically spat out the last word with disgust and disappointment. It was then that the cold facade the Queen had been wearing vanished to be replaced with fiery eyes and a venomous tone, “You saw an opportunity when I came into sight and you took it. You are a vulture like all the others, masquerading as a bumbling, doting innocent.”

Kara’s heart cracked and went numb at the insults and accusations being thrown at her without even being given a chance to simply explain. “How dare you?!” Kara yelled back, her voice raising to drown out the hurt thrumming through her, “I hid because I panicked . If you haven’t noticed I don’t handle awkward social situations very well!”

“You seem to handling this one rather well.” The Queen snapped back dismissively.

Kara bit down on her tongue, refusing to stoop to callous put-downs, she took a deep breath, her eyes dropping away from dark green to take in the floor as she whispered, “I was scared.”

Kara shrugged helplessly, lifting her gaze back to the statuesque Queen. The Queen’s fingers, that were wrapped around her bicep twitched involuntarily at Kara’s honesty but other than that minor movement, her expression and body remained unmoved.

“The woman I had met these past two nights was kind, attentive,” Kara continued sadly, “and I have no doubt that she would have seen how afraid I was but… I guess I was wrong.”

Kara paused to examine the piece of paper in her hand that the Queen had thrown at her. It was crumpled and creased following Kara’s exuberant gesturing when she had been simply trying to get the Queen to listen to her. The journalist lifted the sheet, not bothering to glance at the words typed out and held it between her hands, pausing for a moment before tearing it into halves and then quarters as she carried on speaking just as gently as before.

“I’m not cruel enough to write about our meetings and I’m insulted that you think I would be.” Kara glanced up to see the Queen’s harsh frown had lessened, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly out of her rigid posture as her green eyes fixedly watched Kara rip the paper to shreds. “And anyway, even if I was that cruel I wouldn’t have.” Kara confessed, “Those meetings with you… were important to me and… I was looking forward to our next one. I would never have done anything to jeopardise that.”

Kara’s hands were filled with tiny fragments of white and with a deep sigh, she let them go allowing them to flutter to the ground.

“Did you know that for all of today, I’ve been devastated thinking that you might not want to see me tonight?” Kara asked, flashing the Queen, who was no longer standing tall and unable to meet Kara’s gaze, a watery smile, “Now though? I’m glad I’ve found out what you’re really like because I no longer feel like I’ve lost something.”

With that final revelation, Kara turned on the spot and strode to the door, promising herself in that moment she would ignore any remaining desire to go to the kitchen that night in the vague hope of finding the chef there waiting for her with that one-dimple smile and whatever recipe she was attempting to master.

“Kara.”

This time when the Queen said her name it was far softer than the first time, the hint of accusation gone to be replaced with that care and concern Kara had memorised over the space of only two interactions. Kara batted down the flutter of her heart that came with hearing her name in the exact tone she had imagined hearing it in since she’d convinced herself she had seen an angel.

The journalist spun back around using every ounce of her willpower to keep her expression void of emotion especially when she saw the Queen had stepped out from behind her desk as if to chase after her. It was the chef standing in front of Kara at that moment, but she refused to be blinded by this personality shift.

She now knew which one was the real one.

Knew which one Lena really was.

“Goodbye, your majesty.” Kara curtly replied, bowing her upper body forward precisely before twisting back around, yanking the door open and leaving.