The Indentured Queen

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The Indentured Queen Page 11

by Carol Moncado


  Made sense. “Where is she?”

  “They’re walking back in now.”

  “I’d like to ride up with her by myself.” Maybe see why she couldn’t be like this in public with him.

  Three minutes later, they were alone in the elevator. “I saw the videos from today.”

  She smiled up at him. “I had a great time. Liam reminded me so much of my brother, though he’s paralyzed after an auto accident when he was five. He remembers being able to run and play.”

  “You looked happy.”

  Her smile softened. “I was. I had a great afternoon.”

  A clang and clank startled him before the lights went out and the car shuddered.

  Before Benjamin realized what was happening, his arms were around Katrín as she stumbled into him. The jolt he felt wasn't only from the elevator's sudden stop.

  “Sorry,” Katrín muttered, pushing away from him and leaning against the far wall, as the emergency lights came on.

  The conversation they’d been having fled, replaced by incoherent mutterings filling his mind. Elevators just weren't his thing. Not enough room to pace.

  But he tried anyway. His phone buzzed. He ignored it. Two steps along the back wall, two on the side, two by the door, two more on the other side. Two and a half corner to corner.

  And his wife, in the best mood he’d seen her in, scurrying to get out of his way the whole time.

  Until she didn't.

  Leaning against the corner, Katrín glared at him. "Go around." She answered a call on her phone.

  He glared right back, but spun on his heel and went the other way until he reached her again. This time he went back to the last corner then across. By the time he made it back to her side, she'd slid down to the floor, with her legs stretched out in front of her, blocking his path when he wanted to go through the middle.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Nope. If you want to pace, go right ahead. That was Thor, by the way. An auto accident around the corner took out the power to the whole block. They’re trying to get to us.”

  His mind raced. He needed out. Running a hand through his hair, he looked up.

  “No.”

  “No what?”

  “You’re not going to try to climb out the top. Thor said they’ll be here soon. If they tell you to, then you can. Otherwise, stay put.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do, Katrín.”

  “No, I suppose I don’t, but I’m going to when you’re being an idiot.” She had pulled her ereader out of her bag and turned up a light on it. “And if you try to climb out, you’re an idiot.”

  “I can have you imprisoned for that.” He walked from one side to the other again.

  “For telling you the truth? Go for it. See how well that goes over when the country finds out you put your wife in prison because she told you not to do something moronic. That’ll do wonders for your popularity.”

  “Is that why you bought that kid lunch? The crippled one? To make me look good?”

  Katrín actually threw back her head and laughed. “I, quite literally, could not have cared less how my buying them lunch made you look. I did it because it seemed like a nice thing to do for a nice family who probably struggle to make ends meet. That’s all. If I could have done it without the photographers, I would have in a heartbeat. And don’t call him a crippled kid. He’s anything but. Liam is smart as a whip. He could probably school you on Eyjanian history or any other subject you’d like to choose.”

  “So a random ten-year-old in a wheelchair is smarter than me?”

  “What does the wheelchair have to do with how smart he is? I’ll answer for you.” She glared at him. “Nothing at all, so ditch that whole line of thinking right now.”

  Whatever.

  More pacing two steps one way, turn, two steps, about face, reverse.

  “You know, if you wanted to be more popular, you might work on your resting grumpy face.”

  “What are you talking about?” he growled.

  “Just that. Some people have rather pleasant faces when they’re not actively making one expression or another, but you’re not one of them. You look perpetually grumpy. I’m not sure if that’s because you are always grumpy or if you just have a grumpy resting face. Maybe you can find a face coach or something to help you with it. Now, would you mind sitting down? You’re driving me crazy. Probably driving yourself crazy too.”

  “I’d rather pace.” He glared at her.

  She glared back. “Sit. Before I make you.”

  14

  Whatever Benjamin’s problem was, it wouldn’t be solved by pacing in the elevator. Katrín also didn’t want to have to trip him to get him to stop, because he was driving her bonkers.

  “So tell me the truth,” she started. “Why did you really send your family away for a while? Ashamed of me?”

  The glare returned, but he did sit down as far away from her as he could. “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “Figured neither one of us wanted to answer their questions until we were a bit more settled in our routine.”

  “I see.”

  “I really don’t see my family as often as you’d think living on the same floor of the same building.”

  “Because it’s more like you have your own apartments rather than just your own bedrooms in a house.”

  “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

  “Why do you think you don’t see your family more? I would imagine they’d like to, especially your mother.”

  “Maybe.”

  He seemed to be calming down. She needed to distract him further. “When did you move into your current residence? As soon as you became king?” That seemed a better way to word it.

  He shook his head. “No. My mother had never used the consort’s quarters that I’m aware of, though all of us children lived in there when we were younger. As we grew up, we moved further down the hall. Mother moved in there with my youngest siblings - Josiah down, I think. I was thirteen, my twin sisters would have been eleven or so, and Darius was ten. Josiah would have been seven I think.”

  “So Darius and Josiah are the furthest apart of any of you, aren’t they?” She’d done the math once. Most of the children were somewhere between about eighteen months and two years or so apart.

  “Yes. I think Mother had a miscarriage in between, but I’m not sure.” He closed his eyes and rested his head behind him.

  “So she moved into the consort’s quarters with like seven kids?” Keep him talking.

  “Five until Alfie was born.”

  Katrín had to stop herself from gasping. “Alfie? You call your little brother Alfie?”

  “He’s starting to get a bit old for it, but yes. The twins don’t really have nicknames. I never did either, probably because I was the heir, I guess. Mother called me Benji sometimes, but not often. Darius and Josiah don’t have nicknames either. Everyone else still does, but may not as they get older, I guess.”

  “What are they? Isaiah and Isaac are the twins, right?” She knew this as well as any other Eyjanian, but if he was talking about his family, he wasn’t pacing and trying to break out.

  “Zay is older by five minutes. Zach gives him a hard time about it. They’re almost eighteen. They finish their schooling in a couple months. Angie’s fifteen and dying to learn how to drive. She comes to my office every couple weeks to beg me to let her.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “She’s my little sister and a princess. She’ll never need to drive and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “You do know women, and even members of royal families can drive, right? Have you ever seen Queen Elizabeth behind the wheel? She always has a smile on her face. Haven’t you heard the story about her and the king of Saudi Arabia?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “They were at her Balmoral Estate, I think it was. She was taking the king on a tour of the grounds. He sat in the passenger seat with his translat
or in the back. She climbed in the driver’s seat and peeled out. Women weren’t allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia at the time. She’s apparently quite proud, and rightfully so, of her driving abilities, learned during the Second World War. If she can drive, why can’t your sister?”

  “I can’t.” Something vulnerable had appeared. “None of my other siblings can either. She’ll be fine.” There it went. “Gabby hit her teens a few months ago. Alfie is ten.”

  “So your mom lived with six kids in the consort’s quarters? No one lived in the monarch’s?”

  “Not until I turned eighteen. Mother insisted I move then. My uncle had been trying to convince me to for a quite a while. Louise wanted me to, but for different reasons, I think.”

  Melancholy wasn’t what she’d been trying for but if it calmed him down, it worked. “What reasons?”

  “I think they both wanted me to move in there because I was king, even at thirteen. My aunt because it was just what the king did. He lives in the monarch’s quarters. For my uncle, I think it was more about the power that goes along with it all.”

  That’s what had always bothered her about his uncle. “He wanted to be king.”

  “I think so.” He seemed to be thinking something over. “I’m also pretty sure he’s the one who set up the press release about the wedding.”

  “You kicked him out, didn’t you? So he set it up so that you would marry the lowest person in the palace.”

  His eyes were still closed. “I don’t think you’re the lowest person in the palace.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  With another jolt, the lights came back on and the elevator began to move. Katrín stood up and held a hand out to Benjamin. “Come on.”

  He reached up and took her hand. She leaned her weight back to keep from tumbling onto him, but he didn’t let go once he was upright.

  She looked up, way up, straight into his sky blue eyes.

  “Thank you.” The look in his eyes was softer than she’d seen from him before.

  “For what?”

  “For keeping me from freaking out.”

  Katrín tried to keep her shock from showing. “A little claustrophobic?”

  He dropped her hand and looked away. “Something like that.” He sighed. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention it to anyone, though. I’m not sure anyone knows.”

  “Not even your mother? Or Chamberlain?” That surprised her.

  “No one.” Another pause. “Only my wife.”

  Several days after returning to Akushla, Benjamin climbed out of the car and turned to offer a hand to Katrín. She took it and emerged with a smile plastered on her face. Even he knew it wasn’t real.

  There were a few photographers waiting. How did they know? This wasn’t a scheduled event. In fact, it had only been decided a few hours earlier when a text from his mother asked him what he was doing for Katrín’s birthday.

  Chamberlain made reservations at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Akushla about four hours earlier. Unless Chamberlain had made them sooner and planned to do his suggestion-that-isn’t-really-a-suggestion thing.

  Benjamin tucked Katrín’s hand into his elbow and gave a small, reluctant wave to the press, just a lift of his hand.

  “What are you celebrating?” one of them yelled.

  Benjamin smiled but didn’t answer as they walked through the door held open by a restaurant employee.

  “Good evening, Your Majesties.” The maître d’ bowed at the waist. “Your table is waiting.”

  He led them past a dance floor to a secluded table with Akushla Park glittering outside the window.

  “Thank you,” Katrín said softly as the maître d’ held her chair for her.

  “My pleasure, ma’am. Happiest of birthdays to you.”

  Her smile became more genuine. “Thank you.”

  A second later they were alone. Benjamin leaned in a little closer across the table. “I don’t believe I’ve said happy birthday yet. I do hope you’re having a lovely day.”

  Katrín raised a single brow as she took a sip of her water. “I worked most of the day. I got off work just in time to get dressed and come here. I’d much rather be soaking in a tub or reading a book than on display for the entire country to criticize.”

  The waiter arrived before Benjamin could respond. Grateful he didn’t have to decide how to, he gave the man his order without looking at the menu first. Katrín hesitated then said she would have the same.

  Before he could say anything else, their wine appeared. When they were alone again, he spoke. “You didn’t look at the menu.”

  “What you ordered sounded fine.”

  Something else lurked behind her words. “There’s more to it.” It wasn’t a question.

  She leaned forward. “Look. I haven’t spent more than the absolute minimum on a meal in years. The lunch last week? Just my food cost twice as much as I usually spend. If I look at the menu here, I won’t order anything but water because that probably costs money too.”

  He took a sip of his wine. “There are no prices on the menu at a place like this. If you need to know how much it costs, you can’t afford it.”

  “Exactly. But you can hardly be annoyed at me for spending too much if I get the same thing you do.”

  “I won’t see the bill. It will be sent to my office to pay at the end of the month.”

  “Then Chamberlain can’t get annoyed with me.” She glanced at the restaurant. “You know people are sneaking pictures of us, right? Even among the upper echelons of Askushlan society, you out for dinner with a woman is enough of an anomaly for them to take pictures with their phones as surreptitiously as they can. You might want to look a little more enamored with your wife. We are newlyweds after all.”

  She had a point. Benjamin stood and moved his chair to his right so they were closer together and he faced the window. All anyone would see from behind was a blurry reflection and him reaching for Katrín’s hand occasionally.

  Maybe he should ask her to dance. That would be a very birthday celebration thing to do. Weren’t there photos of his parents dancing as they celebrated a birthday or two at this restaurant?

  He pushed away from the table again and stood holding out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

  “I don’t dance.” She looked up at him, a smile frozen on her face.

  “I think you can handle this one.”

  Her smaller hand slid into his as she stood. “Fine.”

  She walked almost directly behind him as they skirted several tables to reach the dance floor, which cleared as they arrived. The band leader bowed then turned and whispered to the rest of the band.

  They started to play Everything I Do. Benjamin slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer then leaned down to whisper. “Everyone’s watching.”

  “I know.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. This time her smile was soft. “Thank you for dinner tonight.”

  “You haven’t eaten it yet.”

  “No, but I’m sure it’ll be great. And even if the food isn’t, I don’t get the chance to dress up like this very often.”

  “You’ll get to do so more in the next few months. Do you like this dress better than the outfit from last week?”

  “Much.”

  “You look amazing.” The color was nearly the same as his shirt at the wedding.

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t know what the material was, but knew the shiny, smooth fabric showed off her curves, but wasn’t so formfitting that she should draw criticism for it.

  “Did you hear from your family today?”

  She shook her head. “No. I haven’t given them my new number yet. I’ll probably have mail waiting for me, though. Whenever I get it.”

  It bothered him that her family didn’t know how to get in touch with her, then her last sentence sunk in. “What do you mean ‘whenever you get it’.”

  She shrugged, the motion shifting her a little closer to him. “I mean tha
t my mail isn’t always delivered in a timely manner. Generally, I get a pile of mail once or twice a month, maybe every three weeks or so.”

  “Do you know why that is?”

  Another shrug. “I have no idea. It’s been that way since I arrived. I’m able to drop letters in the mail, and they seem to get delivered like normal, but I don’t get them like I should.”

  Could it have something to do with her position in the palace? Between this information and what he’d learned from her about living quarters, he needed to discover more about how employment in the palace actually worked.

  Focus on anything but Benjamin. The words ran through Katrín’s mind, but did little good. His cologne. His breath near her temple thanks to heels so tall they might as well be stilts. The warmth of his nearness.

  Why did he affect her so much? She barely liked him, didn’t really.

  But on a purely physical level, he definitely affected her.

  She’d said he didn’t have the charismatic, magnetic personality his father did, but maybe she needed to rethink that assessment. His was just more understated, or perhaps hidden due to their very different life circumstances. If he let that side of him shine in public, opinion would turn on a dime.

  Shifting even closer to him, to the strength he exuded, wouldn’t help her attraction, but would hide it from him a little better.

  As the song ended, Katrín started to move away, but Benjamin held her in place with the palm of his hand on the small of her back. “One more?”

  Her eyes closed as they moved slowly on the dance floor to the next song.

  Focus on anything else. It worked. And then she’d breath or he’d rub his thumb on hers.

  “This song sounds familiar,” he said softly, for her ears only.

  “When a Man Loves a Woman by Michael Bolton.”

  “Right.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t get any ideas. Any more than you should have from the last song.”

  “What was it?”

  “Everything I Do by Bryan Adams from Prince of Thieves.”

  “Prince of what?”

  “Prince of Thieves. It’s a Kevin Costner movie from the 90s. Robin Hood. Merry men. Maid Marian. Sheriff of Nottingham. All that good stuff plus Morgan Freeman and Christian Slater.”

 

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