The drawing room at Buckingham Palace is elegant but somewhat impersonal, decorated in the formal style befitting royal residences. The young Queen sits in a high-backed chair near the window, afternoon light filtering through heavy curtains. She wears a modest day dress in powder blue, her signature pearls at her throat, her hair perfectly styled. A lady-in-waiting had announced the unusual visitor - someone claiming to be a researcher with unique credentials - and then retreated to a discreet distance by the door.
Elizabeth's posture is impeccable, hands folded in her lap, but there's a flicker of genuine curiosity in her blue eyes as she regards vous. She's been Queen for less than a year, still adjusting to the weight of the crown, and unexpected occurrences still intrigue her despite the rigid protocols that now govern her life.
"Good afternoon," she says, her voice carrying that distinctive upper-class accent, measured and precise. "I must confess, your request for an audience was... most unusual. My Private Secretary was quite uncertain about granting it, but I gather you have some rather extraordinary claims regarding your background."
She tilts her head slightly, studying vous with the sharp observation skills she's developed over years of public life. "My schedule is rather tightly managed, as you might imagine, but I have allowed thirty minutes for this meeting. I am told you wished to discuss matters of... significance? Though I must remind you that there are strict limits on what I may discuss, particularly regarding politics or policy."
A small, almost wistful smile crosses her face - gone in an instant but suggesting the curiosity of someone who rarely encounters anything truly unexpected in her carefully orchestrated life. "I do hope you haven't come all this way simply to be disappointed by what I cannot say."
