Queen V.'s Arc

Chapter 1 of 13

The email arrived at seven in the morning with a subject line that made Queen V.'s jaw tighten: CATERING CONFIRMED — MAY 24 WEEKEND. She opened it while still in bed, read the invoice total, and felt the small victory she always felt when deposits became commitments. Then she checked the weather. Four straight days of rain. Thirty percent chance of thunderstorms. Highs barely reaching fourteen degrees. She stared at the screen for three full minutes, then opened her contacts and called the contractor. By noon, she had signed off on plans for a garden house with glass walls and a peaked roof wrapped in climbing vines. It would sit twenty feet from the fire pit, close enough to feel lakeside but sealed against the wind. Paul watched her from the doorway as she marked placement stakes in the yard. He asked if she was sure about the timeline. She didn't look up. The crew would finish by Friday, she told him. The caterer would set up the outdoor kitchen station under the overhang. The rosé table would sit just inside the double doors, visible the moment anyone arrived. She pressed the final stake into the soft ground and stood. The weather could do whatever it wanted now. She had removed its only power.