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Chapter 8: The Queen's Banquet
The chandeliers of Buckingham Palace's Grand Ballroom sparkled like a constellation, their light dancing over a sea of velvet gowns and polished tuxedos. Queen Elizabeth's birthday banquet was a spectacle of grandeur, a celebration of her enduring reign as monarch, drawing an illustrious crowd—ambassadors, lords, and, tonight, a glittering array of Hollywood stars.
Edward Windsor, Duke of York, stood in his Kensington Palace suite, adjusting the lapels of his maroon formal suit, its rich hue striking against his chestnut hair. His blue-gray eyes flicked to Tsunade, who stood by the wardrobe, her reserved demeanor a steady presence amidst the evening's anticipation.
The cream cashmere shawl they'd chosen in Mayfair—embroidered with roses, lavender, and forget-me-nots to honor the Queen's love for gardens—rested in a velvet box on the dresser, a gift Edward hoped would resonate with his grandmother. The banquet, held in the safest fortress in England, was a high-stakes stage for Tsunade's cover as "Tsu Sendo, security consultant."
Edward glanced at her, noting her practical black suit, a bodyguard's staple.
"Tsu," he said, his voice light, "that suit's sharp, but tonight calls for something else. A dress."
Tsunade's brow furrowed, her amber eyes narrowing, her tone pragmatic. "A dress, prince? I'm your bodyguard, not a noble. Why change what works?"
Her reserved skepticism was clear, her shinobi mind favoring utility.
Edward paused, a flush warming his neck. Truthfully, he longed to see her in a dress, her beauty unveiled beyond the functional suits. But he leaned on strategy, his voice steady.
"It's for cover. The banquet's packed—actors, dignitaries. A bodyguard draws eyes, but a guest blends in. Undercover, you can watch closely without scrutiny."
She crossed her arms, her dry tone cutting through. "Undercover? Sounds like a flimsy excuse, prince."
But his earnest gaze chipped at her doubt, and she sighed, her reserved nature yielding.
"Fine. But if it hinders me, you're sparring tomorrow."
Edward grinned, pulling a gown from the wardrobe—a maroon silk dress, its flowing skirt and fitted bodice echoing his suit's deep tone.
"Try this. It's perfect for you—and us."
Tsunade raised a brow but took the dress, stepping behind a screen. When she emerged, Edward's breath caught. The gown accentuated her strength, the maroon enhancing her golden hair's glow, her diamond forehead mark subtly striking. She was breathtaking, a warrior in elegance, and with his maroon suit, they looked like a perfect couple, their harmony undeniable.
"You look… stunning," Edward said, his voice soft, his heart racing.
Tsunade smoothed the skirt, her expression composed but curious. "It's… strange," she said, her voice low. "Like a mission disguise, prince. Hope it holds."
Her faint smile hinted at trust, and Edward felt a spark, their bond deepening.
The Grand Ballroom hummed with opulence as Edward and Tsunade arrived, the party in full swing. Crystal glasses clinked, laughter wove through an orchestra's waltz, and Hollywood icons—Leonardo DiCaprio in a sleek tuxedo, Meryl Streep in shimmering gold, Chris Hemsworth chatting with a baroness—mingled with royals and statesmen.
Edward's father, the Duke of Clarence, and his older brother, the Earl of Wessex, stood near the throne dais, their eyes widening as Edward entered with Tsunade. The room's gaze shifted, a wave of whispers rippling at the striking pair—Edward's maroon suit sharp, Tsunade's gown a perfect match, their chemistry radiating.
Edward leaned close, his voice low. "Ready, Tsu? First, we pay respects to Gran. I showed you the protocol—curtsy, 'Your Majesty,' keep it short."
Tsunade nodded, her calm intensity steady. "Got it, prince. Like saluting a Hokage, but with more frills."
Her dry quip eased his tension, her reserved humor a quiet strength.
They approached the Queen, seated on a velvet chair, her silver hair crowned with a diamond tiara, her robust presence commanding despite her years. Edward bowed, and Tsunade performed a flawless curtsy, her gown flowing, her voice steady.
"Your Majesty," she said, her tone respectful, her shinobi discipline evident.
The Queen's sharp eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Edward had never brought a woman to such an event, and Tsunade's poised elegance was a first.
"Edward, my dear," the Queen said, her voice warm but curious, "and Miss Sendo, I presume? A delight." Her gaze lingered, a knowing smile forming. "You've chosen a remarkable companion."
Edward flushed, presenting the velvet box. "For you, Gran. A small token."
The Queen opened it, her fingers tracing the shawl's floral embroidery, her eyes softening.
"My gardens in thread," she murmured, draping it over her shoulders, the cream hue glowing. "Exquisite, Edward. Miss Sendo's touch, I wager?"
Tsunade gave a small nod, her voice calm. "It seemed suitable, Your Majesty. Like a leader's cloak."
Her reserved compliment earned a nod from the Queen, who waved them to join the festivities.
As they stepped away, Edward's parents approached, their shock palpable. His father, stern in navy, raised a brow. "Edward, who is she?" His mother, in emerald silk, studied Tsunade, her surprise mixed with intrigue. "She's… unexpected."
"Tsu Sendo, my security consultant," Edward said, his tone firm. "She's invaluable."
Tsunade stood silently, her composed demeanor deflecting questions, though her hand brushed Edward's, a subtle reassurance.
The party swirled around them, actors engaging—Ryan Reynolds tossing quips, Zendaya praising Tsunade's gown—but Tsunade's focus remained on Edward, her undercover role seamless. They shared a dance, her movements graceful despite her inexperience, their closeness sparking more whispers.
"You're holding up, Tsu," Edward murmured, his hand on her waist, their eyes locking.
She tilted her head, her voice dry. "This dancing's harder than taijutsu, prince. Don't step on me."
Her subtle humor drew a laugh, their bond tightening.
As the night progressed, Edward's mind flickered to the Mayfair tail, Malin's associate still unaccounted for. Buckingham's security was ironclad, but the threat lingered, a shadow beyond the ballroom's glow. He glanced at Tsunade, her calm intensity a shield, and felt grounded.
The Queen raised a glass, her shawl radiant, toasting her guests. Edward and Tsunade stood close, their couple-like aura undeniable, the evening cementing their partnership amidst the royal splendor.
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