Chapter 73 - Protocols (1/2)

Sui Estate

Maxen found himself back at the Sui's Estate for the second time in a week, standing before the tall double oak doors of the Audience Room at the right wing of the mansion.

His thick brows knitted, irked that he had to wait by the threshold like an outsider in his own home.

Ha! He sneered in his thoughts when his past haunted him in broad daylight.

The last time he stood before these doors that were intricately hand-carved with a pattern of the country's national flower, the Jasmine, was when that cursed woman died and dragged him and his friends through the mud.

Snapping out from his daymare, he fished his phone out from his suit pocket and a slow grin painted his face. One word from a special someone was enough to put his worries to rest.

Olivia: Home

His fingers danced over the phone screen sending her a reply.

Maxen: See you later.

It was already a few minutes and not a shadow could be seen in the hallway. Running out of patience, he looked over his shoulders where Jack stood behind him.

He scoffed when Jack smiled and nodded at him as if telling him to stretch his patience and someone would come out soon.

Dipping his hands in his pockets, Maxen faced the door again and let his thoughts wander. Looking back, he knew that things were never normal in his life. He grew up with a never-ending list of protocols he had to follow and one of which was to know the significance of the Audience Room.

He knew serious business was about to go down when the King and Queen demanded his audience at the Audience Room.

The doors opened and out came Secretary Abbott, holding it open for Maxen. ”The King is ready for your audience, Your Highness.”

Maxen followed suit and smirked at her mother, who was trying her best to hide the smile on her face.

”Ahem,” Secretary Abbott cleared his throat and was about to announce Maxen's arrival; however, Queen Isla dismissed the guy.

Swatting her hands in the air, she said, ”What nonsense. Save it, Abbott. You don't have to announce my son. You may leave us.”

She placed her teacup back on the porcelain saucer, her grace always to perfection that one may say she was born to be the queen. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, her knees kissed each other. And the way she bowed was as if she was a swan dancing in the lake.

Everybody talked about how she was born to be the queen, yet nobody talked about what she had to endure to reach that level of perfection.