Fifty-Three

Athena

The queen and I sat beside the supermarket in a rustic little restaurant. She remained mute while I waited patiently for her to speak.

She looked so beaten and defeated, like someone carrying the world's weight on her shoulders.

"Would you like anything to eat?" I asked gently.

“I'm not hungry." After a brief pause, I added, "We need to buy something, or they won’t let us sit here.

“A soda will do."

I signaled the waiter and ordered orange juice for myself and soda for the queen. She folded her arms and stared into the distance. After a few moments, she broke the silence.

“You must see me as some evil, cheating, irredeemable person,” she said, taking a slow sip of her drink.

I didn’t respond immediately, so I'm unsure how to navigate this. She wasn’t entirely wrong in her assessment, but I wasn’t here to condemn her.

“I’m not here to judge you,” I said softly. “I care about your family—about Cameron—and I’ve seen how much they’ve suffered from all of this. I know you’re suf