The Thing About Tea Parties

The thing about tea parties was...well...they were fine.

Fine in the spring when the rosebushes were starting to bud, filling the gardens with their sickly sweet scent and the earth had just begun to warm after its winter-long freeze. Fine in the summer when the hours were long and made for drinking tall glasses of iced tea, sweat running down the sides while Essie squealed with joy under the spray of the sprinklers.

Not so fine in the autumn when everything was changing colors and dying, leaves falling from the trees in droves so all anyone had to look at was their skeletal limbs. Not so fine when the air was warm until the cool wind knocked the chill into your bones. Not so fine when they were filled with surplus company: a gaggle of boys who ate all the best finger sandwiches and didn't know how to chew with their mouths closed.

Perhaps Hayden was judging them too hard. After all, they hadn't even gotten to the patio. She was making up scenarios in her head, terrible daydreams of having tea dumped on shoes or running out of clotted cream for her favorite blueberry scones.

Today isn't about you, she reminded herself yet again. Today is about Delia.

Every day was about Delia these days. It was becoming tedious, planning her schedule around her younger sister and her dates or her Selection activities. Sneaking out to speakeasies was absolutely impossible. But Rhys wasn't calling much these days...

Luckily, Vesper was always a phone call away. She picked up no later than the second ring and was always down to shop, or eat, or just sit in her office and gossip like they were sixteen years old at a daytime slumber party. Seeing Vesper soothed something inside Hayden that she knew she had been lacking, something Auden took with her and held hostage half way across the world. Vesper may not have been Hayden's sister, but she was the next best thing.

Hayden had Vesper to thank for the dress she wore now: strapless pink and skin tight with a hemline that brushed her toes. The bustier and the skirt were embroidered with delicate roses overtop lace. An extra strip of lace tied around her throat in a bow. When Hayden first tried it on in the boutique, she was afraid it was a little much. Vesper had convinced her that on Hayden, nothing was too much. She just had 'it'.

A knock at the door pulled Hayden away from the mirror.

"You ready, darling?" Mom called from outside.

A quick look at the clock had Hayden realizing she had admired herself a bit too long, and now she was going to be late for tea. A travesty.

"Coming!"

Mom wore a much more conservative dress: a white floral wrap with decorative ribbons edging the bottom of her knee-length skirt. Sensible black pumps that did not match the vibe in the least made Hayden twitch, but it was too late to send Mom back to her room to change. She would just have to hope that none of the photographers got shots of their feet. Such a shame; she had broken out her favorite nude Jimmy Choos for the occasion.

"You look beautiful," Mom praised, tucking a stray hair behind Hayden's ear as she smiled.

If this were Hayden's Selection, Mom would never have any reason to worry. No one would ever be able to tell the Queen of Illéa was stressed, but Hayden knew to look for the tells. The lines around Mom's eyes and the tension in her shoulders would be gone. Since this was Delia's Selection, God only knew what would happen in the gardens today. Hopefully nothing lewd. Best case scenario was absolutely nothing. Sad how that was the standard these days.

As expected, all eyes were on Hayden as she stepped onto the patio.

The space had been transformed, as if a portal to springtime had opened right there in their back yard. Cameras flashed and the crew started filming. More than one of the Selected was caught staring, and Hayden felt her confidence boost. It wasn't that she dressed to attract attention on purpose. She just liked how it felt to be admired for looking good. Because she did look good.

If her own sister wasn't going to rise to the occasion then someone had to.

Delia wasn't appropriately dressed for tea, but at least she was wearing a dress: shapeless, sheer white lace that barely brushed her knees topped with an oversized denim jacket embroidered with rows of pearls heavy enough to make the shoulders sag. Her hair was brushed and tucked into the collar. Her shoes were converse, but Mom had already ruined the shoe game with her grandma pumps. All in all, a solid five out of ten.

All the Selected were appropriately attired in suits and slacks despite the summer heat that refused to leave even in the grips of autumn. They stood with their backs straight and their eyes politely averted out of respect for their Queen. A few of them fidgeted with cuffs or pulled at their collars, trying to beat the heat. Thank God for umbrellas...and portable fans.

"Welcome gentlemen," Mom greeted in her best mom-voice. She wanted to make them feel included, like they were already part of the family. Hayden thought that was overkill, but she kept the smile high on her cheeks.

Someone nudged Delia.

"Oh, yeah, welcome," she parroted in a dull voice, completely uninterested.

This was off to a great start.

"Please, sit," Mom encouraged.

Everyone followed her lead, pulling out wicker chairs topped with plush cushioning flown in from France the week prior. So much time had been spent on new decor; Mom must have used the whole royal stipend on throw pillows. Elodie would have been able to list the price of each teacup down to the cent. But Elodie wasn't up for her usual tasks after returning from her impromptu trip, and so Hayden kept getting dragged around, pretending like she cared about these boys who were at best polite clout-chasers and at worst money-hungry scammers.

Butlers fluttered around the tables - four in total: three for the Selected and one for the royals - bringing silver trays of finger sandwiches and baked goods along with steaming trays of tea. Most of the Selected weren't used to being waited on in the way of a formal tea time. They didn't have to touch a single thing as the cups were poured and the lemon slices plucked from their plates and placed along the rim. Hayden didn't take her tea with lemon and held her hand out to stop the butler before he had the chance to mess up.

At the royal table, Hayden and her family were joined by a few Selected - picked at random as to not inspire favoritism. Hayden didn't recognize most of the faces (she wasn't as good at this as Elodie), but a few were recognizable. Teo Fernandez (iconic from the last name comment Delia made upon their first meeting) stuck out to her, but that was it. The rest of them were handsome, if not bland.

If this were Hayden's Selection, this was about the time when she would get up and start mingling. Because Delia was a gremlin raised under a swamp bridge instead of the princess she was supposed to be, she remained by Hayden's side with her head tucked down low, staring at her feet. The cameras were what kept Hayden from slapping sense into her sister.

Did she have to do everything herself?

"So, Teo, what are your goals for the future?"

The Selected nearly choked on his tea. It wasn't a loss - it was clear he didn't really like it much, sipping to be polite.

"Goals?" he parroted, eyes wide behind his black-rimmed glasses.

"Hopes, dreams, two kids and a picket fence kind of life?"

"I'm happy where I am at the moment. I am still young. Life has plenty more to offer me."

It was a diplomatic answer, but not an exciting one. Especially given where he was in life.

"So you're fine being a trail guide the rest of your life?"

"What, like you have any aspirations other than stay at home daughter?" Delia snarked. It was funny that she felt the need to protect her Selected after vocally professing she didn't 'give a fuck' about any of them to anyone who would listen.

"Excuse me! I am trying to become a lawyer." She turned to Teo with a hint of pride. "I'm studying to pass the LSAT next year."

"Yeah, and how is all that studying going, by the way?"

Delia's response was a challenge, plain and simple. They both knew Hayden wasn't studying.

Hayden narrowed her eyes and tossed a glance to the side. "I think Jae looks lonely."

That got Delia's attention. She looked at Hayden as if she had spoken Greek. Satisfaction curled in Hayden's belly.

"Just saying, he might want some company."

"That's a great idea, darling," Mom agreed, encouraging Delia with a smile. The cameras pointed their way provided extra motivation.

Delia glared at Hayden, promising retaliation. Hayden made a mental note to lock her door before dinner. It would be unfair to let her Louis Vuitton suffer.

But, it wouldn't be true true without twisting the knife.

"Even better idea, let's invite him to play a game."

"No," Delia's tone was firm, though that did nothing to hide the panic in her eyes. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, come on! You used to love it when we were kids."

"Yeah. As a kid."

"Chicken," Hayden taunted.

She didn't wait to see if Delia followed her. She got up from the table and made a bee-line for the nearest Selected.

"Good afternoon Gentlemen," Hayden chirped, plastering on her best camera-ready smile. They had followed her quicker than Delia, red lights ready to soak up every second. "Would any of you be interested in joining my sister and I on the green for a game of croquet?"

"I'm game," one of them replied - the pashmina stealer known as Andre Thompson.

It didn't take long for a few others to volunteer as well. Apparently Andre was pretty popular, and everyone wanted to follow where they went. Hayden led their group to an empty space in the grass while butlers set up the wickets.

Despite her grumbling, Delia had already selected her mallet: short and purple, but deadly. She had whacked many a ball straight across the yard in her day. There was a time Mom and Dad thought she might have had a career in golf due to her intense, accurate swing.

The rest of the guys picked from the remaining colors: yellow, green, and blue going quick. Hayden thought it would have been a problem for the man who ended up with pink, but Sydney didn't seem to mind. He swung his mallet over his shoulder with finesse, making the move look suave instead of stuffy.

"How do you play?" someone asked.

Jae snickered into his hand. "Perhaps we should use helmets in case these neanderthals decide to club each other upside the head with their mallets."

Hayden bristled. Just because you were thinking it, didn't mean you had to say it.

"Thank you for volunteering to teach everyone how to play, Mister Kim."

"My pleasure, Your Highness," Jae said, his smile anything but kind.

He took the initiative to go first as to give the guys a "good example." To his credit, he was good. He aimed true, blue mallet arcing perfectly to send the ball soaring through the correct wicket. It was annoying, but not as much as his smug grin. Polite applause from everyone else made that grin wider, and he actually had the nerve to bow.

"Normally, this would give me another turn, but it wouldn't be fun to end the game without giving you a chance," he said as he sauntered across the yard.

He stretched leisurely by his ball. He even had the nerve to yawn as Andre set up their shot.

Too much muscle mass and not enough finesse meant that Andre's ball went far past the mark. True, it made it through the intended wicket, but they would have a hell of a time getting to the next one when their ball was in the rose bushes.

The next guy up to strike was Ezra. Admittedly, Hayden knew little about Ezra. He looked nice enough, a little nervous and a terrible stance that would send his ball off-course. Eager to get Delia's approval, though.

"Oops," he said with a blush, looking at Delia and assessing her reaction even when she was staring off in space. When she didn't so much as take a glance his direction, he walked away.

Kind of desperate, if you asked Hayden. But hey, maybe her sister liked her men pathetic.

Hayden's own turn was not spectacular. Usually her game was much stronger, but she wasn't here to steal the show. Her shot wasn't powerful enough to go far, but managed to get close to the wicket. Nothing to write home about.

Snickers reached her ears. Hayden looked up and found Jae smirking behind his palm.

When it was finally Delia's turn, she creamed them all, her ball landing perfectly in the middle of the wicket with a clear line of sight to the next one. Right next to Jae's.

"It seems as though the princess is the only real competition," Jae commented with a wide, white smile. His smile was unnerving, so wide and false. Hayden was used to putting on a good show for the cameras, but this was something else.

Delia didn't notice; she was too busy fist-bumping Andre. It was strange, the suitors her sister was attracted to. Hayden would have picked an artsier type, someone like Sydney. But Sydney was busy reading as he waited his turn, nose buried in a leather-bound novel stolen from the shelves of the royal library.

Delia also didn't notice how close Jae got to Hayden, how their arms were close enough to brush. Completely inappropriate.

He leaned down to her ear and said, "Would Her Royal Highness be interested in private lessons?"

Hayden felt her cheeks flush.

Had Jae...had Jae just propositioned her? In broad daylight? In front of her sister and all the other Selected?

Rage was not enough to describe what was rolling through her, nor was disgust. His smile only incensed that dangerous combination. She had the urge to take her mallet and whack Jae over the head for his absolute disrespect.

"Hey, this guy giving you trouble?"

Hayden turned to find that Dante Wallace-Chavaria had entered the picture. His frame was wider and taller than Jae, especially as he postured with both hands on his mallet set firm on the ground in front of him. He eyed Jae warily, dragging his eyes from the scoundrel to Hayden. He would wait for her cue; he was that kind of guy.

"Hayden!"

Saved by the Queen.

She turned around to see her mother flagging her down. It wasn't hard to leave the game; no one minded her absence. In fact, she was glad to leave the boys behind. If there was a fight with her at the center, Elodie would never trust her with another royal duty again.

The game went on as she sauntered back to the table where her mother sat sipping her tea, eyes cast curiously to the scene beyond.

"What are you doing?"

"It's croquet, Mother," Hayden said with a satisfied smile. "Quite an exciting game, don't you think?"

Maybe all it really took for Delia to have an interest in her own life was to force games upon her. It worked for trivia, and it was working now. She was even talking to her Selected! A novelty!

"You've made your point, darling. Now let your sister do the rest."

"You're right, of course." Hayden sighed as she flopped in the nearest chair. "Croquet is murder on the heels."

"I knew I could trust you to do right by your sister," Mom said approvingly, her smile soft and proud. "Just as I know you'll do fabulously with the Hope Gala, as always."

"I was thinking...about the Hope Gala..."

Another guest arrived to the party: a vision in tea-length teal. Miss Josie pushed up the brim of her hat and waved as she approached, nude heels clicking on the pavers.

"Sorry I'm late," Miss Josie apologized, smoothing down the poof of her dress so that she did not crush the tulle as she sat. As she sat forward and fixed herself a cup of tea, she exposed an awful lot of cleavage for someone her age, but everyone had the good sense not to say anything. "We've just been so busy with packing."

"Packing?"

"I'm afraid we won't be sticking around for the Hope Gala after all," Miss Josie sighed, resting her tea cup solemnly back down on its saucer. "Jordan was quite insistent on returning to Allens as soon as the swearing in ceremony is done."

"Do you have to go?" Hayden asked, desperate to have Miss Josie around for a little longer. "Jordan might have Governor things to do, but you and Mr. Mathis are welcome to stay."

"Oh, you're a sweet girl to offer, but I think it's best if we go. Don't want to outstay our welcome, and we have already imposed on you too much."

"Nonsense Josie," Mom said gently, reaching out to take Miss Josie's hand in hers. "You know how much your being here means to Kaden and I."

"I do. But we are all beholden to our children, are we not?"

"Indeed," Mom agreed with a smile and a shake of her head. "Elodie will miss him fiercely."

"And he will miss her. He talked more about seeing her than actually getting sworn in as Governor."

"It will be good for them both, I think, to have an ally in the government. Not that Jordan will receive any intentional favoritism."

"Of course not, heaven forbid!" Miss Josie laughed and so did Mom. "Our families know how to work together well enough by now, don't you think?"

"Allens is in very good hands," Mom said, absentmindedly adding sugar into her next cup of tea. "Hayden, you were saying something before. About the Hope Gala?"

Anxiety chewed at Hayden's insides. She had been ready to bite the bullet before, but now that Miss Josie was around to watch, that confidence had dwindled. But maybe Miss Josie would be on her side? Maybe she was the silent support Hayden needed. After all, her absence at the Hope Gala would free up a couple spots on the VIP list...

"Yes. It's a shame Miss Josie can't go. But wouldn't it be a great idea, in a show of solidarity and peace, if we...maybe...invited the Illéas?"

The sugar spoon clattered on the tray, spilling sweet, white granules everywhere.

"Wherever did you get that idea from?" Miss Josie asked, alarmed. So much for being an ally.

"Well, I was doing some reading - for law school - and I remembered that Dad forgave the Illéas back when they helped thwart the attempted coup. There was no record of their subsequent disappearance from society, but I just found it odd. Maybe now is the time to bury the hatchet."

"Absolutely not."

"Mom!"

"No, Hayden. I have made my decision. I won't hear any more about it."

It was rare the Queen of Illéa ever raised her voice, but she had never sounded more a queen than in that moment. Hayden didn't dare say another word. She watched her mother scoop up her tea and saucer and walk to the other end of the patio.

"You'll have to forgive your mother," Miss Josie said, consoling. "I know you mean well, but the Illéas are a sore subject for her."

"Why? What happened?"

"It's a long story, but your mother was very close with Marid Illéa's late wife, Nadia."

This was news to Hayden. Her eyes widened, far past surprised. Of course, everyone knew that Kaden Schreave had history with August and Marid Illéa, but that history had always left out Finnley. Until now.

"The two became good friends. Or so Finn thought," Miss Josie explained. "Turned out that Nadia was helping her husband smuggle millions from the Treasury to fund their lavish lifestyle, and the only reason Nadia wanted to be Finnley's friend was to say that she was 'friends with the Queen'. It crushed your mother."

"I had no idea."

"Marid was Governor of Allens at the time, a title he was quickly stripped of once the press found out what he was up to and then given to Mathis. Your father felt betrayed. You know how well he handles betrayal. Banishment was rather strict, and it broke August and Georgia's hearts, but it had to be done." Miss Josie seemed genuinely upset about it, as if she were just as affected. "When Nadia died, Finnley allowed the banishment to be lifted on both of Marid's children so that they could be raised with their grandparents. Your father disagreed but she prevailed. I fear that is the extent of both your parents' goodwill towards that family."

"Why would Marid do that? I don't understand."

"That family has something rotten in them. You'd do best to stay away." Miss Josie put her tea cup down with a sudden seriousness. The look in her eye was urgent. "You haven't had contact with them, have you?"

"No."

"Good." A firm nod of her head marked the end of the conversation. A smile bloomed on her cheeks once more, and she clapped her hands together. "Now, what deliciousness has the chef come up with this time? During your father's Selection, he had the kitchens make the most incredible peach streusel..."

Hayden tuned out. Her brain was spinning. She needed some space.

Excusing herself, she got up from the table. Her room seemed so far away; a more immediately escape was needed. The closest place was the rose gardens straight ahead. The hedges were too big to look over. But someone would ask why she was walking alone.

She made a bee-line for croquet.

"Pashmina stealer," she said, yanking Andre Thompson by the arm. "Come with me. I lost my ball."

It was a shitty excuse. Also, she was pretty sure her ball was sitting back at the start of the course where she left it. But it mattered that the cameras heard it, that they didn't find her interesting as she wandered into the rose garden.

In the garden, Haden dropped the act. She paced back and forth on the grass, unsure whether or not she could do what she needed to do.

"Listen," Andre started, awkward as hell. "You're beautiful and I'm flattered, but I've got this thing going on with your sister and - "

"Shut the fuck up," Hayden cut them off. "I just needed to get out of there without anyone asking any questions."

Questions were what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

"Yo, you okay?" they asked, a bit nervous as they bit down on their lip. "You look a lil red. Like you're boutta pass out."

"I'll be fine. I just...I need to make a call." She pulled the phone out of her pocket, then stared at it like she'd never used one. The potential of this one call could ruin everything. She looked up at Andre, no doubt a bit unhinged. "Could you, you know?"

She shooed them off.

Thank God Andre could take a hint.

"I'll take a walk, see if I can't find that ball."

She watched them go, trying her hardest not to call them back. It was such a strange thing, to feel such fear surrounding a person who only moments ago brought Hayden such joy. But watching Vesper's name light up on the caller ID made a lump form in Hayden's throat. Her heart beat in double time.

The phone kept ringing.

Then, it stopped.

"Hayden, darling, so glad to get your call!" Vesper's voice was coated in her usual brand of honey and sensuality. The pet name made her cringe. She never minded when her mother called her darling, never minded when Vesper did it. Until now. "I wanted to go over outfits for the Hope Gala with you. And I wanted to bring a few people with me, all with generous hearts and pockets, if you don't mind -"

"Is is true?"

"Pardon?"

Hayden didn't meant to be so blunt. She wanted to ease into things. Wanted to modulate her tone and control her emotions so that nothing came off as an accusation. She had been studying interrogation tactics for law school, even if wasn't serious. She knew how to handle this. But nothing could overcome the heat of the moment, the buzzing in her ears telling her everything she had built had been a lie.

"Was your father really exiled for stealing money from the Treasury?"

"A nasty rumor. Wherever did you hear that?" Vesper snapped, so different from how she picked up. Hayden could imagine her lounging on the sofa in her high-rise office, sharp nails curled around her cellphone, her eyes narrowed to kill. "I bet it was one of your little friends. Or your sister. The whole family doesn't like me and now they're trying to poison you against me too."

Misdirection. Hayden took a deep breath and tried again.

"That's not what I asked."

"I am not my father."

More distractions. A diversion.

"Why are you my friend? Why do you want to go to the Hope Gala so badly, Vesper?" Hayden asked, voicing the question that had been on her mind ever since she extended the invitation. "Are you...are you just using me to get an invitation?"

Silence. So much damning silence.

"Oh, darling," Vesper let out a heavy sigh. "I thought that was obvious."

Hayden's heart broke. She didn't think she was crying, but she must have made some kind of noise that let Vesper know she was falling apart.

"Come on, don't be emotional about it," Vesper snapped. Hayden had been warned this woman was a viper, that she bit the hand that fed her more often than not, but she had never had that poison turned on her. Until now. "Don't pretend you weren't using me too."

"How was I using you?"

"You wanted a stand in for your twin sister, and I wanted the good press that came with the Schreave name so that I could finally take this ridiculous target off my back. A target your family put there. This was an even exchange, through and through."

"Your father was a criminal. And you...you're a liar."

"Hmmm...and what does that make my brother? Your beloved Rhys? Or did you forget we shared a name?"

"I have a hard time believing Rhys is related to any of you," Hayden snapped, a wave of fierce protectiveness surging in her. "He wouldn't lie to me."

"Your whole relationship is built on a lie," Vesper spat, twisting the knife where it hurt most. "Your great secret, your great shame, is my brother."

"I am not ashamed of Rhys."

"You know, he didn't tell me about you at first. I had to wait until he was asleep to go through his phone. I kept wondering 'who is so important that he keeps texting through our dinner?' and lo and behold, it was the daughter of our sworn enemy." A little laugh, completely mirthless filled the line. Hayden could picture Vesper alone in her sterile office with all its harsh lines and windows, tossing her head back and letting the humor flood her venomous green eyes. "You see, he knew even then that you were a bad idea. He wanted you far, far away. All the sneaking and hiding...who was he protecting? It sure as hell wasn't you."

Hayden was shaking, her whole body trembling. Every single insecurity had been flayed and left to rot under Vesper's expert knife. She knew just where to cut, what nerves to slice. It was diabolical, absolutely despicable, and yet Hayden wasn't surprised. She had been warned. She hadn't listened.

"You don't know a damn thing about Rhys and I."

"I know that Illéas and Schreaves don't fit. You never let us. Because every time we extend the olive branch, you take it away."

"No," Hayden said, finger on the end call button. "You broke this branch yourself."