I Was The Perfect Queen But He Forgot My Name Chapter 10
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
I had Tessa open the sealed box.
On top was a good-luck charm. Before Julian left for the disaster zone, I had climbed thousands of stone steps at the mountain rescue memorial to pray for it on his behalf.
I removed the identity chip from inside and threw the plain cloth charm into the wind.
“It’s useless now.”
Next came a handkerchief. Years ago, at the royal autumn games, he had taken first place and insisted on keeping the handkerchief I had embroidered with a cedar motif.
I cut away the embroidered tree that represented me and let the wind sweep the cloth toward the river below.
There was also a stack of childhood practice sheets in the box.
The first English name I ever learned to write was Julian. He had taught me, holding my hand.
I tore the pages to pieces and fed them into the paper shredder beside us. White scraps whirled inside the clear bin like a tiny snowfall.
One by one, the rest of the old objects that couldn’t be publicly sold were formally destroyed under the witness of the royal guard.
At last, I cut off a small lock of my hair.
Julian looked at me, his expression finally turning complicated.
“You said it yourself—you’ll never regret it.” I met his eyes. “If you ever do, don’t come looking for me.”
“I won’t.”
I opened my fingers. The strands of hair blew past the barrier and dropped into the Lorne River.
I threw the scissors into a metal scrap bin set aside for recycling. They landed with a sharp, ringing clink.
The river rushed on, stopping for no one.