Racheal drank from a cup of tea. Thankfully it was sweet, the way she liked her tea.

She might as well enjoy it, lunch was still far away.

But as she finally finished her tea, she looked up to see the assistant return with a tray.

He set it before them and Racheal gasped in shock. The tray contained toast and jam, a cup of cappuccino, yoghurt, nicely chopped fruits, scrambled eggs, two cupcakes and water.

"Here? The press conference will start in a few minutes." She could not help blurting out.

"I will not watch you starve." He said.

"I had them postpone the event for another hour. Eat!" He peeled open a finger of banana for her. "No unauthorized person will come here. This is a private waiting area."

Racheal wanted to die of embarrassment. He must think her a glutton.

And he said something about starving. If only he knew she had mastered the art. Her stepmother had starved her non-stop after all.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked

Racheal shook her head. "Thank you." She replied instead.

He nodded and looked away.

She was halfway into her meal when Thalia strolled in.

"You're having a feast sister." She said with a bright smile. Racheal wondered when they became sisters.

"What are you doing here? Who let you in?" Steffan asked darkly.

"Aunty insisted I accompany you." Thalia said sweetly.

"For what exactly?" Steffan barked and Thalia trembled. "Get out." He shouted and Thalia practically ran out.

But she sat with them at the long table facing the journalists later. Several national and even international television cameras were facing them directly as the journalists asked them questions.

IS THIS A LOVE MARRIAGE

DO YOU LIKE EACH OTHER

SO FAR, ARE YOU HAPPY

DO YOU THINK THE PEACE BETWEEN BOTH COUNTRIES WILL BE SHORT LIVED?

HOW DO YOU HOPE YOUR MARRIAGE WILL AFFECT THE WAY THE COUNTRIES' CITIZENS TREAT EACH OTHER

And then they switched to more personal questions for Racheal.

HOW ARE YOU ENJOYING YOUR STAY SO FAR

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT OUR COUNTRY?

IF YOU WERE NOT HERE, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WOULD BE DOING BACK HOME?

WHAT IS YOUR EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND

DID YOU EVER CONSIDER MODELLING? THE WORLD HAS BEEN RAVING ABOUT YOUR BEAUTY SINCE THE WEDDING

Racheal sighed in relief. She had been doing well so far with her answers. And she had given Thalia no chance to jump in.

One journalist raised a hand. The director nodded.

ONE LAST QUESTION, NOW YOU ARE MARRIED, WHERE DOES YOUR LOYALTY LIE, YOUR HOME COUNTRY OR WITH US?

Racheal was at a loss for words. What could she say without offending anyone.

"Sorry, she cannot answer that question." Thalia said. And everyone turned to look at her.

There were whisperings in the audience between the journalists. Racheal shivered to think of what they would write when they left here.

They may twist the narrative and interpret her silence as different bad things.

She cleared her throat. She knew this was not the answer they wanted but she said so anyway.

"This is my new home."

Silence fell everywhere.

Finally, the director announced the end of the press conference. She saw Steffan's jaw was tight. He looked angry.

"I am so disappointed." He said.

Racheal was startled. "What?"

He nodded at the crowd of journalists and stood up. He took her hand and they began to walk outside.

"What did I do wrong?" Racheal could not help asking.

"It's not you. It's my mother." He said. Racheal did not understand what he meant.

"I never thought she would send Thalia here the way she did."

This was the first time she had heard him mention Thalia's name. She wanted to ask him for more details about their breakup.

But she knew better.

He looked like he was barely keeping his anger in check. She had never seen him this angry.

They waited for the security team to clear the way and form a protective wall around them. Then they began to walk back towards the reception area and out of the building.

Racheal was the first to hear noises outside. She wondered what it was about.

The security guard directly in front of them turned swiftly, almost knocking Racheal down.

"Sorry ma'am." He bowed in apology as Steffan steadied her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Steffan asked, finally losing his patience.

"The public has learned that you both are in this building. A crowd is gathering outside." The security guard said.

"Try to send them away, we will wait them out." Steffan said.

"It is better to leave now sir. We will protect you both. The crowd will only become bigger and more out of control the more people hear the news."

Racheal looked up at Steffan hoping he would do the right thing. What the security guard was saying made sense.

"Ok." Steffan finally said.

So he was a reasonable man. Many rich and wealthy people were proud and foolish. Their word was law even if they were wrong or knew nothing about the subject at hand.

She wondered why she felt a little proud that he was not that sort of man.

The security team formed the shape of an arrow head around the couple, with the chief security at the very front.

Steffan and Racheal followed their lead and walked quickly out of the building.

The sun was hot and bright and glaring down. It was almost difficult to see without sunglasses.

But she saw the crowd, both old and young. They were looking at her lovingly, some even tried to reach and touch her.

Racheal almost jumped when the first flower bounced off her chest and fell at her feet. They were tossing flowers at her.

Tears gathered in her eyes. This was a completely different reaction from what she had anticipated.

Then they heard a shriek that froze everyone in their tracks.

STEFFAN!

Even the security team turned because Steffan had stopped to look. It was Thalia.

"Please don't leave me behind." She said hurrying up to them.

"Sir, It is dangerous to stand out like this. We have to continue moving." The nearest security guard said urgently.

Steffan nodded and turned.

Then someone broke through the security guards. Racheal gasped.

It was an old woman so the guards were hesitant to handle her roughly.

"Please go away." A guard said with a hand on the old woman's shoulders.

The journalists and paparazzi were here now, recording the whole thing so they could not do much.

But the old woman did not move, she was standing before Racheal, barring her way.

"My son died fighting the war against your father." The woman said. Her eyes were sad and she looked weak but angry, very angry.

"My only child lost his life over a pointless war and you dare come here, stand pretty and receive flowers." She asked in a low dark voice. "You do not deserve flowers."

Then Rachael noticed the clear vase in her hand. Was that blood?

Before she could react, the woman had poured the content on her, from her hair down.

"Chicken blood for a pretty bird." She said as the guards finally dragged her off.