Matilda Wray had not been the queen of Cyndaera for thirteen years, but that did not mean she would stop acting like royalty. Even though she no longer commanded her kingdom didn’t mean she would stop acting as if she did. She was perfect and that would never falter.
She awoke at eight am, just as she did every morning. No earlier. No later. She bathed in the bath the servants had prepared. The tub filled three quarters with water that was always exactly 112°, with twenty-five lavender petals laid on the surface. She then was dressed in her morning gown, a black maxi dress, before heading off for breakfast.
She had followed the same routine since she was a child. Once she was married her husband would follow the same routine a half-hour later. Once she had her daughter, Lindsey and her nanny would join along. When Lindsey was married, Gregory followed the schedule of Matilda’s husband. And the children followed the same schedule Lindsey had had when she was a child with their prospective nannies.
But then her husband died and the routine began to shatter. Instead of everyone being ready for breakfast by 9:15 on the dot, her family would just be starting to roll in by 9:15 and breakfast would not be served until 9:30. A fifteen-minute difference may not seem too big of a disruption, but perfection never likes changes.
Matilda eventually settled into this new breakfast routine. Almost everything was the same, other than the empty seat next to her. But perfection doesn’t have time to mourn, so she just had to adapt and overcome, as a proper royal always does.
Except for eight years prior there had been new disruptions to her routine, and Matilda was finding herself struggling to adapt. And as she strode perfectly down the long hallway to the grand dining room those very disruptions skittered past her with the ruckus they always seemed to carry.
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