“That sounds heavenly.” Elise sighed, a far off look crossing her face. “Just the beach, the sun, the waves, and Marty.”
“We’re coming, too!” Marissa jumped in. As best Katrín could tell, she was Marty’s sister. “Harry and I want to sit on the beach. At least during the winter.”
The conversation changed to the best vacations they’d ever taken. Katrín stayed quiet, as did Benjamin. He still held her hand, but remained stiff.
“James aren’t you going to win that panda for Kat?” Marty asked tossing Benjamin a ball. “You’re almost there.”
“Sure.” He dropped her hand and went back to the game.
Three rounds later, she held the giant panda, but the moment wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for a few minutes earlier.
“I need a bun.” Elise looked around. “Where are the snack vendors?”
“We just had dinner.” Benjamin looked confused. “How can you be hungry again?”
Katrín slipped her hand through his arm as the rest gaped at him. “He’s never been, remember?” She smiled up at him. “There’s always room for buns, sweetheart.”
He shrugged. “Okay, then. Lead on to the buns.”
In just a few minutes they were seated at an impossibly small table. So small, it had only three chairs, but it was the only one they could find, and their food wouldn’t take up much room.
She could see Benjamin waffle about what to do. As king, he would expect to be given his own chair. As a gentleman, he was expected to not take one so his wife could.
Marty solved it for all of them, but sitting down and pulling Elise to sit on his leg.
Katrín had half hoped the men would stand.
Harry and Marissa bought two plates piled high with the sticky buns. Benjamin sat down and looked up at Katrín. She sat tentatively on his leg, as far away from his torso as she could. It didn’t look very newlywed-ish, but she didn’t care.
Benjamin didn’t let her stay too far away, though. His arms went around both sides of her as he leaned forward. “Are these the same buns they serve before Lent?”
Katrín picked one up. “Similar.” Like Iceland, Eyjania officially celebrated three days leading up to Lent and the Easter season. The first one, everyone ate all the buns they could. Light and fluffy and filled with cream, it didn’t take many to get sick on them. The second day, Eyjania departed from Iceland in their traditions, but it consisted of meals filled with meat before giving it up for Lent. Ash Wednesday, like Iceland, saw children dress up and visit businesses and homes to sing for candy.
As they ate, they talked. Elise told a joke about King Alfred the First.
They all laughed, but something sounded off.
Katrín turned to see Benjamin’s face turning red, and his eyes bugging out. He pounded on his chest.
“What is it?” Katrín stood up.
His eyes stayed wide as he tried to gag.
“Get up, James.” Marty’s voice rang with authority.
Marissa grabbed Benjamin’s arm and pulled him up as Marty climbed on the chair.
His face was beet red.
Tears had begun streaking down Katrín’s face as she wondered where Thor was.
Marty wrapped his arms around Benjamin’s abdomen and heaved. Benjamin gagged then Marty did it again.
This time a bite of bun popped out and landed on the ground. Benjamin drew in a deep breath.
Before anyone could say anything else, they were surrounded by security, who rushed them through a nearby gate.
“What’s all this?” Elise asked, her arm grasped by one of the men Katrín barely recognized.
“Look at me.” Thor stood in front of Benjamin, his face grim. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” Benjamin still seemed to be gasping for air, but his color had already become more normal. “Really. I’ll be fine. Thanks to Marty and Marissa.” He looked over at Katrín as she realized tears were still streaking down her face. “I promise.”
“What is all this?” Marty demanded.
Benjamin took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. “You weren’t wrong, though we’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourselves.”
Marty’s eyes went wide, followed one by one by the rest. “You really are...?”
Benjamin nodded. “Katrín and I wanted to get out without everyone knowing who we were.”
The four of them practically fell over themselves to bow or curtsy.
Elise gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “What we said about you and your family...”
Benjamin shook his head. “Were all things I’ve needed to hear. How can I know what the country thinks if no one will talk honestly with me?”
Before anyone else could say anything, medics arrived. Benjamin tried to shake them off. “I’m fine, Thor.”
“Too bad.” He gave a glare that would have made the Norse god proud.
While Benjamin sat down and let the medics check him over, Katrín, along with their four new friends were guided away.
“I will need all of you to come with us and give a statement,” one of the guards told them. “It’s just a formality, but since His Majesty needed medical intervention, it’s required. All of you will be taken in separate vehicles to prevent you from influencing each other.” His look softened. “I’ll need your phones. It’s protocol.”
The four of them just looked kind of shell-shocked, but they handed over their phones, complete with selfies the six of them had taken.
“Wait.” Katrín held up a hand. “You’re not going to do anything with the phones are you?”
He shook his head. “Just hold onto them until the statements have been made.”
She turned to the couples. “Look. I get it. Believe me, but could you do me a favor?”
They all shared a look, but no one said anything or even nodded.
“I don’t want them to take any of the pictures off or anything, but we do ask that if you share them with anyone, you laugh about the king’s look-alike and the wife with a similar name, just like you would have done if you’d never found out. Can you do that?”
After another glance, they all nodded. “We can.” Marty spoke for all of them and handed his phone to the guard. “At least for a few years. Then maybe we’ll tell the truth.”
A wave of relief washed over her. “Thank you.”
In two minutes, they were all in separate security or police vehicles beginning the trek back to the palace.
That’s when it hit her.
The thought of something happening to Benjamin had rocked Katrín to her core, though she’d barely had time to give the thoughts space to form.
What did that mean, and what, if anything was she going to do about it?
18
“The piano is red.” Benjamin heard Marissa make the exclamation as he walked into the room.
“It’s a red grand piano,” he confirmed.
They all turned and bowed or curtsied. It felt far more normal, but at the same time, he thought he would miss being “James.” “We have several others in black and white throughout the palace.” He smiled in Katrín’s general direction. “This is where we first met.”
She hung back, uncertainty all over her face.
“You can go hug him, kiss him even,” Marissa whispered loudly. “We won’t tell.”
Katrín moved hesitantly to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer, glad she was there.
“Wait.”
They turned to look at Elise.
“The family business you inherited? You mean the throne?” He could see it all starting to register.
Benjamin nodded. “Yes. I do a lot of executive type work including negotiations with companies and other countries. In many ways, it is like a business.”
Marissa looked at Katrín. “You’re a dishwasher, though? Really? That has to all be part of the act, right?”
> Katrín moved away from him. “I’ve been a dishwasher, and I’ve worked for the palace since I turned eighteen. I do have a contract that is technically still in place, though it’s enforcement is not what it used to be. There’s a clause that specifically says it’s still applicable in case I get married. I think most of the contracts with the palace are like that.”
“So you’re not actually still a dishwasher?” Marissa seemed as confused as Benjamin was starting to be by the whole thing.
Katrín laughed. “Can you imagine the headlines? Eyjania’s New Queen Works As Dishwasher In Palace Kitchen.”
She didn’t lie, but the truth behind it bothered Benjamin.
Everyone else laughed with her, but not Benjamin.
Harry raised a brow at him. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but I think I liked you better as James. You weren’t nearly as uptight.”
Benjamin just nodded as Thor came and told everyone they were free to leave. Thor escorted the six of them toward the portico where a car waited to take the other two couples back to the Festival.
“Thank you again,” he told Marty and Marissa. “I appreciate your help.”
They grinned at each other. “We’ve worked together before. We used to be lifeguards. You wouldn’t believe how many kids choke on snacks.” Marissa told him. “And we were glad to do it. It was a privilege to be of service.”
After another minute of idle discussion, the other four climbed into the car and drove off.
By the time Benjamin turned around, Katrín had already started to walk back up the stairs toward the residential section.
“Wait,” he called after her.
She stopped three stairs up and turned. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
He searched her expression for a hint of whether it was anything more than concern for a fellow human being. “It scared me.”
“I can imagine.”
Benjamin stood in front of her, their eyes nearly level. “Are you okay?”
A sheen of tears covered her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Maybe there wasn’t anything else behind her concern. “Because you were right there.”
Katrín reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder before letting it drop to his upper arm. He found himself wanting to reach out and take her in his arms.
“It was scary, but I’m fine.” Her hand fell to her side. “I have to be up early in the morning, so I’m going to turn in unless there’s anything else you need from me?”
Benjamin found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her, but didn’t say anything and just shook his head. “No. Sleep well.”
He went back to the Rainbow Reception Room and walked across it until he reached the case. He stared at the dagger. One day, he wanted to take it out, hold it, turn it over in his hands, and imagine what it would be like to have it handed to him after being knighted.
But no. Even the king of Eyjania wasn’t to take such an ancient piece of weaponry and art from its protective case except on extremely special occasions.
He couldn’t explain it. Something about the story of King Alfred called to him. Not just the daring knight’s adventures that made up any Medieval story, but something about Alfred specifically. By all accounts, he was head over heels for his wife - a scullery maid traveling with a larger contingent, including the lady Alfred’s brother was to have married. When vagabonds ambushed their group, the lady and most of the others had been killed and the treasure stolen. Only Alfred and this maid survived.
Though no one particularly cared about the reputation of such a lowly servant - Alfred did. As the story went, he behaved completely honorably during the week or so they traveled alone together, the message for his father secreted on his person. But when they finally reached a town where it was safe for them to reveal their identities, one of the first things Alfred did was marry her, banns or not.
When he returned to Eyjania a couple of weeks later, Alfred discovered that his father and all three of his older brothers had been killed when their ships collided in a storm. At the time of his marriage, he was already king.
Conscience pricked Benjamin. Since he was young, he’d wanted to be worthy of Alfred’s dagger.
Yet, he was planning to arrange the alleged death of his wife in a year. Play the grieving widower. Eventually, remarry and have children with a woman of higher breeding.
All while his current wife’s family believed her to be dead.
It wasn’t a very knight thing to do.
He’d vowed before God and country to lead his people to the best of his ability. He’d been thirteen. Had little choice in the matter, though he still took that oath seriously.
He’d vowed before God and country to love, honor, and cherish Katrín for as long as they both shall live. He’d been twenty-six. Felt he had little choice in the matter, but the reality was he could have found a way around it. It wouldn’t have been easy, but he could have.
“Staring at that dagger again?” His mother’s voice didn’t surprise him.
He didn’t turn around. “Wondering if King Alfred would be proud of me, of the man I’ve become - am still becoming.”
“That’s a question only you can answer.”
Which meant she wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if her oldest child was the kind of honorable man his father had been.
And that meant he probably wasn’t.
Benjamin needed to figure out where he was deficient. It couldn’t just be not meaning his wedding vows. It had to be something else. Something... more.
He turned away from the case holding the dagger to find his mother already gone. Had she ever even been there? His family wasn’t supposed to return for several days. His gaze passed over the red piano.
Katrín played beautifully. She knew King Alfred’s Overture by heart. But he’d never heard her play except the once. Never asked her how she learned. Why she loved it.
He’d even dismissed the loss of her keyboard, belittled her feelings when it clearly upset her, though he didn’t see a reason for such an old instrument that didn’t work to mean so much.
Benjamin knew he wasn’t worthy of King Alfred’s dagger.
And maybe he never would be.
Katrín wandered around her quarters, still shaken from Benjamin’s near-near-death experience. She’d lived there for weeks now, but still hadn’t slept in the consort’s bed. She still far preferred the lady-in-waiting’s room with its more normal size and Furniture-of-Historical-Insignificance.
She leaned against the doorframe and stared into the bedroom. Had the Queen Mother slept here? Had she slept with her husband? Given the number of children they had, and the pictures of the two of them together, Katrín suspected the latter. Katrín’s own mother had told her stories about the late monarch and his wife. Or hadn’t Benjamin said the younger kids lived in this suite while his parents lived in the other one?
Well, Katrín wouldn’t spoil this room for Benjamin’s permanent wife. She wouldn’t sleep in here at any time before her alleged death.
But it still called to her. She wandered around the room, running her fingers lightly over the wood tops of the tables, desks, and dressers.
Some of the wall panels held ornate carvings like parts of the rest of the palace did. One held rosettes.
Where did this passage go? Likely an escape tunnel should they be under attack.
She pressed them in sequence, and the panel swung in. As she expected, a tunnel went off both directions. To the left, a set of stairs told her it was the exit route. She went to the right, just to explore a little bit.
A minute later, she found another exit, this one on her left. It likely went into the consort’s sitting room, though she was a bit turned around. It might lead to the giant foyer area.
She pressed the release and moved out of the way of the door as it opened inward.
Katrín blinked and her jaw dropped.
“Sorry,” she gasped as King Benjamin turned, his eyes a
s wide as hers likely were.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his expression turning into a smirk instead of the shock it had been.
“I was just exploring the tunnel.” She looked anywhere but at him. His bathroom was even nicer than hers. “I thought this door went to my sitting room.”
“Not even a little bit.” He walked toward her, that annoyingly smug expression she hated seated semi-permanently on his face.
He reached for the towel wrapped around his waist.
Katrín gasped and turned. “Really?”
“Relax. I’m just making sure it’s secure. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
It shocked Katrín to realize that she believed him. The night she’d first met him, she would have felt differently.
“You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.
Katrín stared at the ground. “I’m not sure I know you well enough to believe you.”
“The towel won’t come off, literally or metaphorically, until you take it off.” She heard him walking toward her stopping when his feet were in her line of sight.
“Good to know.”
When his finger crooked under her chin and raised her face until she could see his. “What?” she whispered.
King Benjamin shrugged. “Wanted to look you in the eyes while we talk.”
Katrín found herself very aware of her loose fitting, but fairly low cut, pajama shirt - and her husband’s lack of shirt all together. “What are we going to talk about?”
“For starters, how you probably shouldn’t just walk through random hidden doors unless you’re prepared to get an eyeful of someone you didn’t expect to see. This tunnel also has exits in several other sets of quarters.”
“Duly noted.” She didn’t want to notice the amusement lurking in his dark eyes. “But shouldn’t you have some code in the hallways to tell you where each door goes? Nothing as obvious as the king’s bathroom or the consort’s bedroom, but something.”
“Also duly noted.” His finger left its spot under her chin and found a new one near her temple before tracing a line down the side of her face and along her neck.
The Indentured Queen Page 14