No one walked in front of the king.
Ever.
Except maybe his mother, but she had too much class to do so in front of anyone else. Truth be told, it would surprise Katrín if she did in private either.
She wasn’t stopped as she neared the cordoned off section. Though few people roamed the palace without good reason to be there and knew better than to go beyond their personal boundaries, the cordon remained.
This time when she unhooked the velvet rope, no one stopped her.
The young guard standing there even had the grace to avoid looking at her.
She pushed through the door, easily as large as the one going into the king’s office and stopped. How was she to know where the king’s suite was, much less the consort?
Besides, she’d had no idea what lay beyond that door.
Her eyes swept across the room, hoping she’d be able to keep moving rather than follow King Benjamin’s lead.
The large area reminded her of an elegant hotel lobby with potted plants and small groupings of fancy chairs.
Hallways extended off the room on either side, but directly in front of her were doors that made the others seem normal by comparison.
So that was where she headed.
Of course the monarch would live in the most ostentatious portion of the palace.
Darting one way then the other around the groupings of chairs and indigenous plants, Katrín reached the doors and pushed.
Nothing.
Pulled.
Still nothing.
Not even a budge to tell her which one was right but she was too weak.
“This way.” King Benjamin’s voice caused her to turn but couldn’t see where he was coming from.
She started toward his voice.
A panel in the wall stood open.
“So secret entrance. Noted.”
His glare told Katrín her tone annoyed him. She didn’t care.
“There’s another entrance that’s less hidden, but you didn’t wait for me.”
She went through the panel and stopped as it closed behind her.
It wasn’t what she expected. Not his room, like she expected or even a sitting room.
Instead, it was more of another foyer.
King Benjamin pointed toward one nondescript door. “That’s mine.” Then a more ornate one. “Yours.”
“So if the palace is overrun by invaders, they come for me first?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Isn’t that the same thing you said about the purpose of the proximity of the two sets of quarters? Do you know anything?”
The king shot her another glare. “The building is hundreds of years old. I don’t know what the rationale for every choice the builders or designers made.”
A throat cleared behind them. Katrín turned to see the king’s assistant standing there. “Sir, ma’am.” He gave a slight bow.
“Why wasn’t she in the system, Chamberlain?”
Katrín glanced at Benjamin. He’d been mad earlier, likely at being interrupted, but now seemed more annoyed or irritated.
She looked back at Chamberlain. “Because you never told me to, sire.”
Was there subtext she was missing out on?
“I asked you to take care of whatever needed taking care of, didn’t I?”
“And I told you I would never presume to know what you need doing until you request it of me, sir.” How did he keep a straight face while actually retorting to the king? She needed to learn how to do that.
“You may presume anything you need to in order to make sure Katrín has what she needs.”
How about a new job? Or no job? Should the queen actually be working a regular job? Shouldn’t she be doing charity events and visiting sick kids in the hospital? It had been years since she’d done that and missed it.
She wasn’t about to say anything though. Better that she be forgotten in their little power play.
“Perhaps the queen should be given a tour of her new quarters and told the best way to get to them, as well as how to tell where the passages are, should she ever have the need to find a secure location quickly.”
“I’m sure you’re much more qualified for that than I am, Chamberlain. I need to call Christiana back and finish our summit.”
“I spoke with the queen. She sends her regrets but needed to end the call anyway. She and Duke Alexander have an engagement this evening, family dinner with their son, and it was time. Besides, I can imagine no one better to show the new queen around her sleeping quarters than her husband, the king.”
Katrín glanced at Benjamin, who didn’t look pleased. Because he couldn’t be bothered with her? Because he had more pressing things to do? Because he didn’t want to be in any sleeping quarters with her at all?
Chamberlain bowed a bit more deeply. “Have a pleasant evening, Your Majesties. I will be going home now.”
He left out a door Katrín hadn’t noticed before.
“That’s the best entrance,” Benjamin told her. “It’s down the hallway to the left of the main seating area. The door we came in is actually a secret panel. Please don’t use it unless there’s an emergency.”
“Noted.” She looked at the doors to her quarters. “Is there some super-secret entrance to my room too?”
“Yes, but those doors are the main one.” He walked back toward the wall where they’d come in. “See these four rosettes?”
Katrín stood next to him and ran her fingers lightly over the ornate wall. “What about them? There’s rosettes throughout the palace.”
“Correct. In different numbers and patterns. However, the clusters of four indicate a secret door.” He showed her the ten-step pattern. “That will open any of the doors. However, they are not to be used when anyone else is around unless it is a dire emergency and the alarms are sounding.”
“What if I’m being chased by someone who wants to kidnap me?” A likely situation.
“You will be briefed by security on what to do in different circumstances. Generally, if you’re in danger and can safely get into one of the secret doors, do it, but not if those after you can see what you’re doing. That puts everyone in danger.” He pointed to a tapestry hanging off the wall. “You’ll see these all over the palace. “If it goes floor to ceiling and has a knight with his dagger drawn, there’s a small alcove behind it. The knight is protecting the one hiding behind him. If he has a sword drawn, there’s access to the tunnels from the alcove. If he has both drawn the corridor has a safe room. There’s alcoves cut into the walls of the corridors. The safe rooms are three alcoves down on the right, so be sure to note which knight has what weapon still sheathed and keep track as you go.”
He pivoted on one heel. “I’m sure you know how doors work and can show yourself around your new quarters. You don’t need me to do so.”
Katrín watched him walk away, until the door to his private quarters closed behind him. She turned toward the door to her new rooms.
With a deep breath, she started toward them.
Here went nothing.
Benjamin pulled on a tank top as he walked toward the wall with the rosettes. He’d told Katrín they were only for emergency use, but he didn’t like walking through the halls, even of the residence portion of the palace when his family was out of town, when he was in workout clothes.
He just didn’t feel he could justify converting one of the rooms in the suite where the monarch had lived for the better part of a millennium into a workout room when there was a whole gym downstairs. This particular hidden corridor went where he needed to go, and faster than if he went the regular way, so he used it often.
His trainer waited in the outer room so he wouldn’t know how or where Benjamin entered the main training room.
“Sir.” He bowed slightly. It was the only time he’d be nice until the workout ended. “What kind of workout do you require today?”
“A hard one.”
One that left him so tired he couldn’t t
hink when he went to bed. Between the trainer, the nutritionist who worked with the palace chef, and Chamberlain, Benjamin ate well, worked out well, and got enough sleep. He hadn’t worked out in several days and hadn’t slept well either.
When he didn’t fall right asleep, he had too much time to think. And when he had too much time to think, he didn’t tend to like himself much. He compared himself to his father and always came up lacking.
“We’ll do two HIIT rounds then?” The high-intensity interval training workouts were certain to leave Benjamin so exhausted he couldn’t think.
“Sure.”
“Start with forty-five mountain climbers.”
Benjamin knew each workout well. He didn’t need the trainer to tell him what to do next, but to make sure he did the workout as intensely as he could. To drive him.
The man, a former drill sergeant, could yell with the best of them.
And he did.
Benjamin knew his form was a little off. His shoulders didn’t quite maintain their position, his arms didn’t want to stay straight, and his glutes weren’t cooperating, but it wasn’t as bad as the yelling would indicate.
“Have you never done these before, Your Majesty? Tighten that core!”
Benjamin lost track of his count, but the countdown his trainer provided helped.
“You get sixty seconds to rest.”
He wanted to collapse but couldn’t. Getting back up would be too hard.
“Plank.”
Benjamin held perfect form in his plank for nearly all of the two minutes.
“It’s a good thing you were never in the military, son! You’d never get away with such sloppy form!”
The first time such things had been yelled at him during his workout, Benjamin almost quit and fired the man, but it angered him, and he’d stuck with it. Before he left the fifth day, the trainer had smacked him on the arm, smiled, and said, “I knew you could do it.”
Even though he understood the rationale behind the yelling, Benjamin couldn’t slack off. He pushed himself until he could do it right.
“How long has it been since you worked out?”
“The last time you were here,” Benjamin groaned.
“Six days! Why?”
“I’ve been busy.”
The man chuckled. “Getting married. Too busy working out with the queen to get to the weight room.”
Before he realized what he was doing, Benjamin had backed the man against the wall, his forearm against the other man’s chest.
The trainer didn’t look scared. Amused maybe.
But Benjamin was seeing red. “I let you get away with a lot of things in here, but talking about your queen that way is unacceptable. Do I make myself clear?” That the insinuations were wrong didn’t matter. Holding a plank left him with the time to think that he so desperately avoided.
And when he’d said something about the queen, Benjamin knew his father wouldn’t have stood for it.
He’d reacted accordingly.
The only thing preventing Benjamin from ending up on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back and a knee on his spine was the other man’s acquiescence.
Finally, a nod. “My apologies, sir. Comments about your wife, the queen, are off limits. It won’t happen again.” And a smile. “Nice to see you capable of catching me even a bit off-guard though. You might be able to hold your own in a fight against a lesser opponent.”
Benjamin took a step back. “I don’t intend to be in any fights. I have security with me at all times. That’s enough to get someone to back off.”
“True, but things happen. I can think of two instances in the last year or so alone where members of royal families were kidnapped or assaulted.”
It took a second for Benjamin to remember. “Princess Yvette of Mevendia was kidnapped not long after she married Prince Nicklaus of Ravenzario.”
“And her sister-in-law?”
“Christiana was nearly killed by the man she thought was her uncle.”
“Both were able to use cunning to escape, but that’s not always the case. They both had the best security and both were reached on palace grounds. There is no guarantee.” He put his hands on his hips. “And didn’t you have a run-in with your own uncle not too long ago?”
Benjamin had long ago learned not to question his trainer’s sources. They were impeccable.
“All we had was a stare-down.”
“Are you one hundred percent certain it would never be more than that?”
After a moment’s thought, Benjamin shook his head. “Ninety percent, maybe.”
“Then next week we’ll add some self-defense and even a bit of offense to your workouts.” He pointed to the floor. “Push-ups. Now.”
Four rounds of workouts, circuit training on the weights machines, and an hour and a half later, Benjamin stepped under the hot water in his private shower.
Normally, he was so tired he couldn’t think and just let the water sluice over him. But tonight he wondered what had possessed him to jump up and confront his trainer.
It couldn’t be feelings for Katrín or even real indignation at the insinuations.
No, it was a gut feeling that his father would have done the same. Because his father never would stand for anyone demeaning his family, any of them, but especially his wife. The one person in the world he loved more than anything.
It would have killed him if she’d died first. It nearly did kill her.
Benjamin admitted to himself that he might be overdramatizing it a little bit, but few people had seen his mother for nearly a year. Even when they were together, she was a shell of her former self. Only after Alfred was born did she even began to smile again, and not until after the first anniversary of his father’s death that anyone heard her laugh.
Once dressed in his pajama pants, he went into his bedroom and stared at the bed. He’d never thought about it before, and he knew furniture could be changed out with new pieces or those in storage, but was this where his parents had slept every night?
Had his mother ever lived in the consort’s quarters before his father’s death when she did live there?
And now that he was, technically, a married man, did he feel the need to find out?
Rather than worrying about it any further, he collapsed onto the turned down covers and willed himself to sleep.
10
Katrín spent two hours slowly working her way through her new home, took a shower, then decided she needed to play her keyboard. It had been too long since her last session. With everything going on, she hadn’t played since the night she met the king.
For twenty minutes, she looked for it through every nook and cranny of the consort’s quarters and came up empty handed. Where could it be?
Her eyes narrowed, and she left through the same door she’d entered. When she reached the plain door on the other side, she banged hard with her fist. “Open up!” Every thirty seconds or so she did it again until finally the door opened.
Her mouth dropped open, but she snapped it closed. She wouldn’t allow the shirtless and adorably rumpled king to derail her train of thought. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” King Benjamin ran a hand through his hair causing it to stick up even more. Even his annoying beard seemed bedraggled.
Focus on that. Not the six-pack. She glared at him. Better than staring. “My keyboard.”
“I didn’t know you had a computer.”
“I don’t, you numbskull. It’s like a piano. But electronic. Where is it?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea.” Then turned. “Come on in. I’ll see what I can find out. Of course, it is the middle of the night so it’s possible I won’t find out anything.”
Heart racing, she followed him into the monarch’s quarters. Even more opulent than the rooms she was supposed to occupy, though that shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her. “It’s not the middle of the night. It’s ten.”
“For those of us who have to be up early, it’s t
he middle of the night. And why didn’t you just call?”
“You really think I know anyone’s phone numbers? Besides, I don’t have a phone, unless there’s one hidden in the consort’s quarters.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Why don’t you have a phone? Everyone has a phone.”
“Not when every dime you make goes to paying back the royal family. Then you survive without one. It’s not hard when you spend 24/7 either in the kitchen scrubbing dishes or in a 10x12 room with nothing but your music to keep you company.”
He tapped on the laptop sitting on the table in the middle of the sitting area. “Your things were inventoried when they moved them from your room,” he told her by way of explanation. He tapped a few more times. “Looks like it was disposed of because it didn’t work.”
Katrín expected anger. She got tears.
“It’s a keyboard. Just get a new one.”
She didn’t want to deal with him. Or this. Or any of it.
Katrín spun on her heel. “I’ll just use the piano downstairs,” she shot back. “Looks like you finally got me in your room.” She let the door slam behind her. Despite her marital status, the red piano was off limits. Technically, she was now allowed anywhere in the palace, but she wasn’t about to take advantage of that. Too much chance for embarrassment.
Instead, she went back to her new quarters. Was there anywhere she wouldn’t feel out of place?
“What’s your problem?”
Katrín gasped and clutched her stomach. “What are you doing in here?”
At least he wore a t-shirt now, though it appeared a size too small and did little to hide his broad shoulders and muscular arms. “I am allowed to enter any portion of the palace I want.” He shrugged. “Privilege of being king.”
“Stay out of my quarters. I don’t care if you’re allowed. I don’t want you here.”
“Too bad. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
She turned and glared at the same time. “You sound like a petulant toddler.”
“You’re the one with the no boys allowed sign,” he shot back.
The Indentured Queen Page 7