The Royal Guard

by Cindy M. Hogan

  After that, Tara seemed to back down a little. “I’m only trying to help you see what kind of a man your captain of the guard really is. I’m sorry if I burst your bubble. Forget I said anything. I’m sure you’ll end up getting that promotion the right way—from your merits. Yeah. I’m sure it’s a time issue. You only need to be in the guard a bit longer. That’s all.”

  ***

  Marisa climbed into bed feeling conflicted. If the captain really was a womanizer and wasn’t holding true to his contract as the captain of the guard, maybe her using the photo wouldn’t be so bad after all. His relationship could jeopardize the entire royal family. Maybe it would be better if he was let go. His daughter’s sweet face filled her mind. He was a resourceful man; he’d find something to do. She was sure of it. But could she do it? That was the question.

  And the answer was no. No. She was no blackmailer. If the captain was acting dishonorably, it would have to be discovered without her interference.

  ***

  She pulled on her uniform, hung neatly in her locker after yesterday’s shift. Because she hadn’t slept well, she felt off, her thoughts not as clear as they usually were. It didn’t help that she was later than usual. She liked to be five minutes early to everything. She hustled to her post and had just unlocked the doors when a group of women turned down her hallway. The entire castle was double secure with all doors requiring manual unlocking before electronic. After they used their proxy cards to enter the room, Marisa took her post again. They brought up the captain of the guard, which made her remember her decision not to use what she knew against the captain. She fingered the picture in her pocket for a long while until she decided to really look at it. She saw once again that the little girl, Zaina according to the back of the picture, had some features that made her look just like her dad. She was so mesmerized by Zaina, she didn’t hear Laterza’s steps until it was too late. Upon seeing him already around the corner, his beady eyes set on her, she slid the picture into her pocket.

  Laterza waited until he was only feet from her and said, “Not happy with your post? Needing a diversion?” His eyes flicked to her pocket.

  “No, sir.” The words were sour in her mouth.

  His nose twitched into a sneer, and he left her. She rolled her eyes. Christian would have demanded to see what was in her pocket. She had dodged a bullet.

  7

  Right before lunch, one of Queen Aria’s assistants approached and addressed her by name.

  Marisa bowed—when the queen’s messenger spoke to you, it overrode typical protocol.

  “The King has requested your presence in the men’s chambers,” the woman stated tersely. “Someone will be along shortly to relieve you.”

  Marisa nodded, fighting hard to keep her composure. This had never happened to her before. A personal audience with the king? What could it be about?

  As soon as she was replaced, she made her way to the men’s chamber at the end of the next hall, wondering what terrible thing had happened. The king and queen sat in their deep purple cushioned chairs off to the side of the oval table. The king’s wheelchair was tucked snuggly away on the right side of the room ready to take him where he needed to go at a moment’s notice. The accident may have taken much of his physical prowess, but his mind continued to be sharp. Despite his discomfort, he sat tall, his power exuding from him. The look on his stern face filled Marisa with dread, and she had to focus not to flinch. While his wife also exuded power and beauty, there was a regal elegance to her, but also a kindness in her bright blue eyes that made Marisa relax. She bowed before them and then stood up tall.

  “How long have you worked here, Donati?”

  “About a year, sir.”

  “Have we not treated you exceptionally well?”

  “Yes, sir. I love it here.”

  “Well, it has come to my attention that some treachery could be afoot.”

  “Sir?”

  “I hate to think what your father would say if it were true.”

  “Please, sir.”

  “Search her,” he said. She looked around, and two of the king’s personal guards moved toward her.

  “Please hold your arms out to your sides,” one of the guards said.

  She did. She had no idea what was going on until she heard the crinkle of one of the guards finding and taking the picture from her pocket. This was bad. What would she say? The search stopped, and he took the picture to the King, bowing as he handed it to him. She had to come up with something and quick. She would need to explain herself. Her mind flew through all kinds of possibilities. One thing she knew for sure, she couldn’t throw the captain under the bus. She would have to lie to the king.

  “What is this?” The king asked, looking at the picture with some confusion. She had no more time. She swallowed hard, and the answer came to her.

  “Sir, I found the item on the floor. I picked it up. Upon noticing it was a picture of a young girl, I knew I should turn it into Captain Di Stefano so that it could be returned to its owner.”

  “Ah, I knew when team leader Laterza came to us with the idea that you were a traitor that there had to be mistake. I am happy to discover I was right.”

  The queen smiled, and the king said to one of his guards, “Please inform team leader Laterza that Donati is cleared and free to continue working.”

  “As for you, young lady, get back to your post.”

  Marisa bristled at the young lady comment and felt two very different emotions as she walked away from the men’s chamber, relief and disgust. She was more than pleased that she had been able to lie her way out of the situation, but she would need to put Laterza in his place sooner rather than later.

  The king had not returned the picture to her, and she knew it would be taken to Christian as soon as possible. She needed to talk to him beforehand.

  Marisa passed the large statue of the miner in the middle of the main hallway and went straight to the captain’s office before reporting back to her post. He was talking to a thin, tall man in a royal uniform. The man hit his fist on the captain’s desk and said something in a low, vicious tone that she couldn’t make out.

  Before she could escape the tense situation, the captain looked around the man and said, “Donati?”

  “Sir,” she stepped inside the office.

  “Thank you for stopping by, Ottavio, but I assure you, we have everything under control. I can not divulge anything else about the security for the celebration other than what I have told you. Everyone’s safety is our top concern, I assure you. Thank you, and good morning.”

  Ottavio. So this was the visiting cousin. Now Marisa had a face to put with all the negative descriptions she’d heard of the man. His hands were cramped into fists, his white knuckles betraying how hard they were clenched. He gave Marisa a swift glance and then left the room, with the following warning, “This isn’t the end, Captain.”

  The captain rolled his eyes and then turned his attention to Marisa. He looked at her expectantly.

  “I have something to tell you, and I need to do it quickly and in strict confidence. Is your office secure?”

  “What is it? Is everything all right?” His eyes searched her face, concern and worry replacing the irritation he’d worn during Ottavio’s visit.

  “Please answer the question, is your office secure?”

  He stood up. “I don’t understand. Why…” He trailed off as he noticed one of the king’s personal guard step in front of his door. He glanced at Marisa, who turned to see the guard. She turned quickly back, eyes wide. He seemed to get the picture. Whatever she wanted to tell him had to do with this guard’s visit.

  “Enter.”

  The guard held out the picture for him to take. “The king instructed me to give this picture to you so that you could hopefully find the owner.”

  Christian took it from him without looking at it. “Thank you.”

  The guard turned on his heel and left.

  Christian looked at the picture
, his face paling slightly. “You were saying?”

  “Someone gave me that picture and told me it belonged to you.”

  “So you turned it in to the King?” Anger flashed behind his eyes.

  “No. I went to find you, but I couldn’t. I intended to give it to you today at lunch, but someone saw it in my pocket and thought it might be something dangerous and turned it in to the king.”

  “All happened as it should have.”

  She nodded.

  “And you are here because?”

  “I wanted to warn you.”

  Some people passed in the hall, he moved around her and shut and locked the door.

  “My office is free of listening and visual devices.”

  “That’s your daughter, Zaina, isn’t it?”

  He said nothing, but a pink color seemed to crawl up his neck.

  “I overheard you talking to your wife and daughter in the garage, and I thought I’d tell you, you should be more careful.”

  He scowled. “You overheard me talk to my wife and child?”

  She nodded.

  “First off, you shouldn’t eavesdrop. Second, I am not married. You know I can’t be to retain my position.”

  She nodded. “I do realize that, but I wanted you to know I know, and I won’t use it against you even though the person who gave it to me advised me to.”

  “I am NOT married,” he said, frustration edging his voice.

  “It’s okay. I know, and I won’t tell anyone about Zaina. She looks a lot like you.” She leaned her head toward the picture in his hand.

  He looked down at it, and a softness seemed to come over him. With his head still bowed, he said, “The woman you heard me talking to—that was not my wife, but this is my daughter. I only found out about her less than a week before my final interview for this job. She wasn’t born yet, and I had no way of knowing if the claims of her mother were true or even if the pregnancy would go full term. She was born six months later, and there was no doubting her parentage. And as is obvious, I got the job.”

  She reached a hand out to him. “It must be a terrible burden to have to keep it a secret.”

  His head popped up in a sharp jerk. “I assume your silence comes at a price.”

  She pulled her hand back. “I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind. I couldn’t imagine my luck. But the more I thought of it, the sicker it made me. Number one, it wasn’t right, and number two, it had the potential to ruin not only you but that sweet girl.”

  He nodded. A distinct shiver ran up her spine. She wanted him to pull her into a hug.

  “Thank you for not acting rashly,” he said. “And after me passing you up yet again. I do think you’ve made some progress on the control of your anger.”

  She looked to his face and moved a hand to his obviously swollen, bruised jaw. “I’m sorry about that. It looks terrible.”

  “It feels terrible, too.” His warm hand brought hers down between them, her other hand still firmly in his opposite one. There was a twinkle in his eye.

  “Why, though. Why do you insist on keeping me inside the castle when you know I am more than capable?”

  He bit his lip. “It’s for my own…”

  There was a knock on the door, interrupting them. They jerked apart, and he moved quickly to open the door. It was team leader Elia. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No. We were just finishing.”

  He inclined his head and said, “My pleasure.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she said, inclining hers before leaving the room.

  She hurried back to her post, unable to stop her mind from going in directions she didn’t think it should go. Not when it involved more than just a work relationship with the captain of the guard. She spent much of the time that afternoon looking at her hands and imagining him holding them, over and over. The warmth, the tenderness. And how she wished Elia had not knocked at that prime moment. Christian was about to explain why he refused to promote her, or at least she thought he was. Would she ever get to hear the explanation? And why had he been so tender with her? It surprised her that it had affected her as it had. By the end of her shift, she had convinced herself that it was only because he knew she had him over a barrel and he felt obligated to be good to her to prevent her from telling.

  ***

  It seemed she saw the captain at every turn during the hour before lunch. He even invited her to go to lunch with him and a few of the others on her same shift. They ate at a French restaurant. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she caught him staring at her more than once. At the end of the meal they talked about heading to the club after work and everyone was excited about it.

  “You coming?” Vadik asked Marisa, his hand running through his wild hair.

  “I don’t know, I…”

  Yale spoke up, the bugginess of his eyes accentuated by the fluorescent lighting. “She won’t come. She was there a few days ago, and she only comes maybe twice a month.”

  Had she been that obvious?

  Laterza piped in then, a nasty look on his face, “She laid out Barsetti the other day.”

  There was a roar of laughter at that. The captain stared at her, but she said nothing and neither did he until they were about to go into the castle to resume their shifts. The other six guards walked right in. Marisa was next in line, but a hand came out and shut the door in front of her. Christian smiled at her. “Any way I could talk you into joining us tonight?”

  Her stomach was doing flip-flops. The captain was asking her directly to come. Going against her better judgment, she said, “I might be able to arrange it.”

  He smiled. “I’d like that,” and opened the door to usher her in. She made it to her post with thirty seconds to spare. Carlo was there; it was the first time their shifts had met in a while. She realized she’d never bawled him out for standing her up at the club. They started the changing of the guard, and Carlo whispered, “Sorry about the other night.” She shrugged. On the second pass he added, “I didn’t think you’d show. Heard about what happened.”

  “Don’t worry about it. But I’m going tonight.” A shot of pleasure zipped through her at the thought.

  On the fourth pass Carlo gave her an odd look. “You feeling okay, Marisa? Your face is all red.”

  She could feel the heat there, but was unable to control it. Thinking about the captain and being at the bar with him tonight made her feel giddy and for some reason, embarrassed. It seemed she had a continuous blush the rest of her shift. There was something nice about the feeling, but it made her feel vulnerable, and she didn’t like that at all.

  8

  She hurried home and changed, letting her hair down and adding a few waves to it. She put on her little black dress and strappy bright green shoes and applied a little more makeup before heading out to the club. She felt a stab of guilt for going, but told herself that it wasn’t a date, only a work thing. Her stomach was full of fighting soldiers the whole way there, and when she entered the club, she was relieved to find Barsetti was not there right by the front door to torment her.

  It still held the unpleasant smell of too much and too many different types of cologne, of sweat and the stinging aroma of liquor. She was surprised at how busy the place was. She couldn’t walk two feet without having to go around someone. She had seen it like this on the weekends, but never during the week. Then again, she had never been there on a Thursday that she could recall. She tried to block that all out. Her eyes fell on the group of eight guards and then the captain of the guard at the back of the club. Carlo was there, too. All the comfort that brought vanished as the captain openly stared at her. She knew she was blushing furiously and looked away, only to find his eyes tracking her the entire time it took her to get to their couple of tables.

  The captain stood and so did the rest of the men, five from yesterday plus two others and Carlo, when she reached the table.

  “You came,” Yale said. “I’ll never second guess you again.”
She hoped they could see she was changing. It looked like they were changing, too.

  Carlo offered her his seat and went to get another one from a nearby table. The same surly, but pretty waitress brought her a drink right away. She wondered who had ordered it. Once she admitted to herself that she had come solely to spend time with Christian, she shook off the awkwardness. She found it was easier this time to laugh and joke with them, which surprised her. It had only been a few days since the fiasco at the club.

  After about an hour, several of the guys stood up to leave. Carlo leaned over to her. “Hey, you’re doing great. Mind if I go? An opportunity may have come up.” He jutted his chin toward a pretty woman across the bar, who was openly staring at him.

  “I see how it is, Carlo,” she teased.

  “You know I wouldn’t abandon you, but you really don’t seem to need me. You’re doing great.”

  Marisa thought he was selling it a little hard, but she had to admit things were going pretty well tonight. “Fine, you’re off the hook. But I don’t want any details later.”

  He grinned and sauntered off toward the woman at the bar. That left four at the table, and they all shuffled to maximize the space between each person.

  As if a bell had rung announcing that everyone must dance, the table emptied. Only Marisa and the captain were left. He got up and moved to the seat adjacent hers, pulling it closer to him, a beer glass in his hand. “I’m glad you came. A little shocked, but glad.”

  She laughed nervously. “Turns out I’m not as predictable as most think I am.”

  “I like your predictability.” One corner of his mouth twitched up.

  A rare slow song came on, and he stood and asked her to dance.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I haven’t danced much in my life, and if you love unbruised feet, you may not want me to join you.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I’ve seen you gracefully sneak up on an opponent. I’m sure you will amaze me.”

  He held out his hand. She took it, concentrating hard not to allow it to shake. It turned out she needed no skill whatsoever. He held her close, closer than she would have thought he would dance with a subordinate, and they turned in slow small circles, talking and laughing. It felt good. She wouldn’t need to be light on her feet after all.