The Last Queen: Epilogue

“A ho`i a`e au. Until we meet again.” The last note fades, and I blinked away the teardrop clouding my eyes. I gripped harder on the painted railing. The children looked brightly back at me, a few holding onto colored poster boards, and broke into laughter as the choir finished the song. I allowed myself to smile, but inside, I heard my heart cracking.

“Thank you very much for that performance. I wish to--” I broke off my speech as a pair of natives climbed up the stairs and handed me a bouquet of yellow hibiscus. I muttered my thanks and walked down to the gathering, my speech forgotten. Around me, a group of volunteers poured out drinks while my maids prepared for the afternoon snack. The humidity clung to my heavy dress, forcing me to struggle to maintain my composure.

“Mrs. Lydia Dominis.” The arrogant tone behind me warned me unpleasantly of the American’s presence. I turned around slowly, allowing myself time to hide my thoughts. My eyes took in the appearance of General Johnson, leader of the troops stationed here. Looking bemusedly at the drops of perspiration gathering at his forehead, I stopped myself from asking about his ridiculous uniform.

“General Johnson, how may I help you?” I wondered if he realized that I purposely emphasized his name to point out his inability to pronounce mine. Knowing he would give another report on the daily affairs of the civilians, I tuned out his voice but nodded once a while. To my left, a dance began and the chanting of old Hawaiian songs filled the air.

“-wish to send his regards. Mrs. Dominis?” Annoyance dripped from his tone as he caught me off guard. Politely I smiled, one of those cryptic American smiles that I had picked up from the diplomats.

“Thank you for your time and service General. Your message is taken and considered.” I looked pointedly at him, and luckily for me, he took the hint and walked away. I scorned at myself at the sight of his rigid steps; perhaps next time I should pay more attention.

Ignoring the festivities, I turned my eyes back to Washington Place and I couldn’t help but think of Iolani Palace and to a time when I was known as Queen Liliuokalani. Sighing at the sight of the American flag over my beloved home, I wistfully looked down at the flowers still in my arms. Plucking off a blossom, I tucked it gently behind my ears. Maybe it was contentment that filled me as I walked toward a friend; perhaps I was finally ready to close the final chapter of my life.

The ancient chant had faded away, and a livelier beat filled the air as the hula dancers began their performance.