The Queen

The young Queen surveyed her guests contentedly. The ball was well underway. The musicians had struck up a faster tune and the dancing party had increased. She could hear the tinkling laughter and the clinking chalices. Feet shuffled  daintily as their owners twirled their partners.

The Queen

Occasionally, they would look over at her and give a small bow. At this, she would smile back graciously and give a small nod in acknowledgement.

The merriment wouldn’t end until dinner was served and it was almost time for the feast to begin. She was waiting for the gong to sound to descend and take her place at the head of the table. Her guests would then follow suit according to their positions.

She suddenly noticed a movement in the far corner. Sir Alex! He was cutting through the throng and seemed to be headed straight towards her. Her heart skipped a beat. He was too handsome and the Queen was very fond of him.

“Now, what did we talk about, Quinn?” he asked her.

“Oh, but daddy. I want to join the party. Please?” she tried to plead with him once more.

“My princess, you may, but when you’re a bit older,” said he, while kissing the top of her forehead.

With that, he scooped Quinn in her arms and carried her upstairs to her room to put the Queen to bed.

***

Image Source: “Little Girl Looking Downstairs at Christmas Party”

McCall’s, December 1964; oil on board, 10 x 10 ½ in.; Collection of George Lucas

http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/online/tellingstories/

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