“And now he’s dating this American,” I say flatly. “It’s all very new.” The queen blinks and then bursts into tears. Loud, ugly, un-queen-like tears. Wrapping her arms around me, she sobs loudly, sounding like a barking seal. I’ve always been close with Suzette and James, but not this kind of close. I pat her back, because what else do you do when a queen wants to cry on your shoulder? And I do mean on my shoulder. I can feel the tears—oh, please let those be tears and not snot—on my neck.
