The Indentured Queen

by Carol Moncado

  He pulled on his pajama pants as his phone rang, causing him to turn away from her retreat. Darius? It was the middle of the night in the States.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.” His brother seemed out of breath.

  “Is everything all right? Esther? The babies?” Had he even told Katrín why his brother missed their wedding?

  “We’re at the hospital. The babies should be here later today.”

  “Have you told Mother?”

  “No.” Darius’s voice went quieter than expected. “You’re my brother and my king. I thought you should be the first to know. I’ll call her in a minute.”

  How things had changed. Where he initially scheduled ten minutes for his weekly conversation with Darius, Benjamin now set aside at least an hour, though the calls seldom lasted that long. “Thank you. Esther will be in our prayers.”

  “We’d love to have you come visit, even briefly, once things settle down. I haven’t met your wife yet.”

  “We’ll see what we can arrange. Call Mother. I imagine she and at least one of the girls will want to fly out immediately.”

  “Why?” Benjamin looked up to see Katrín in the doorway wearing something more appropriate for church than the robe she’d been in before.

  He held up his hand. “Keep me posted, Darius.” He hesitated. “And the thing we don’t ever talk about? If I found out you’d fixed it somewhere else before the year is up, and I can fix it on this end, I wouldn’t take any official action.”

  As much as he wanted to, Benjamin couldn’t tell his brother he’d ignore the statute requiring him to exile Darius, but he could hint around it.

  “Then I won’t tell you that it’s been fixed so you don’t have to decide whether to take any official action or not. It was fixed the first week in January”

  As he’d suspected. “I’ll talk to you soon.” Darius hung up before he could.

  “Where are your mother and sisters going?” Katrín sat in a chair on the other side of the room.

  Benjamin sat against the headboard. “I haven’t told you where Darius is, have I?”

  She shook her head. “I overheard a conversation that may have told me more than I was supposed to know at the time.”

  He sighed. “Last March, he went on vacation to Sargasso, met a young woman, and spent some... quality time with her. She didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know who she was. A month later, he stood in my office and married Princess Esther of San Majoria after her father threatened to kick my family off the throne.”

  Katrín blinked. “How could he do that?”

  “A treaty from three hundred years ago or so. Esther was pregnant. If Darius didn’t accept responsibility by marrying her, Edward could take the throne and give it to someone of his choosing, likely Esther. They married and moved to the States.”

  “So you’re an uncle?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. She miscarried, but is now in labor with their twin girls.” His head rested against the headboard as he looked toward the canopy covering it. “I was his first call. Until Christmas, I don’t remember the last real conversation I had with any of my siblings. Something not superficial or related to business. It’s gotten better since then.”

  “No one was here in the days leading up to Christmas. Speculation was rampant where all of you were. Visiting Darius, wherever he is, was one of the top contenders.”

  “They invited all of us and the San Majorian royal family.” He stared down at his hands. “Edward called me out on a few things, told me if I wasn’t careful, my heirs wouldn’t have a good example to look up to. Not just as the monarch, but as a father, a husband, and a man. Not like I did.”

  Benjamin blew out a breath. “He wasn’t wrong. He told me whenever I had a decision to make I should ask myself what King Alfred would have done - either my father or King Alfred the First. That’s why I was in the Rainbow sitting room that night. Alfred’s Wulfrith dagger is kept in there. I always wanted to know I was worthy of it. Not in the sword fighting sense, of course, but is my character worthy of being knighted by the famed Wulfrith family?”

  “And are you?”

  28

  Katrín didn’t know what possessed her to ask the question. She hoped he wouldn’t be mad at her for it.

  “No. I’m not. Not yet, but I like to think I’m somewhat better than I was at Christmas. I don’t know that I ever will be.” He looked up at her, the most honest look she’d seen from him on his face. “This time last year, I was looking forward to the anniversary celebration later this year because I’d finally get to handle the dagger that was my birthright. Now, I’m intimidated at the thought of those who earned one and what they would think of me.”

  “Your sister told me something when we got back to the party in Montevaro. She said it doesn’t matter that I’m married to a king, that as far as anyone knew I was the beloved wife of the king of my country. What mattered then was that I was a child of the King of Kings. The same is true for you. Despite the crown or the responsibility you carry on your shoulders, that’s what really matters.”

  Before he could respond, his phone rang. “My mother,” he told her as he swiped across. Maybe he’d at least consider what she’d said. Katrín knew she needed to remember it much more often.

  She left him to his conversation and stared out the windows over the city of Akushla.

  “We won’t be attending church after all. Several members of the family are leaving almost immediately. They’re hoping to arrive before the babies do.”

  She turned to see him looking at her.

  “If you’d like to go with them, you could.”

  Katrín shook her head. “I’ll stay.” His family had been nothing but kind to her, but she wasn’t comfortable enough with them for this kind of trip just yet.

  Benjamin seemed to hesitate before he spoke again. “Would you like to have lunch with me this afternoon? Just the two of us?”

  She gave him a small smile. “I’d like that.”

  Another call came in for him, so she left him to it and went to change into something a little more comfortable. She likely wouldn’t leave her quarters.

  Instead, she curled up with a book on her ereader, then swallowed her disappointment when a text from Benjamin canceled lunch. Something came up.

  She barely saw him for days. She continued the lessons on etiquette and other things she’d need to know for her mother-in-law’s birthday party.

  That was the next time she saw Benjamin for more than a few minutes. The sleek navy gown was much more her style, and made her feel wonderful, though the slit up the side was a little higher than she’d normally prefer. The tiara was practically stitched into her hair and the silver heels were also a bit too high.

  Who was she kidding? Any heels were too high.

  This time she beat Benjamin into the outer portion of their apartments. She studied a painting of his parents’ wedding day. They looked so in love. Since marrying Benjamin, she came to realize she’d likely never have that, but more recently - after the Festival, after London, even after he bought her that amazing piano - she found herself longing for him to look at her that way.

  Eventually she’d come to terms with it, but not until she’d been “dead” for a very long time.

  “Ready?”

  She looked to see Benjamin wearing his tuxedo with a sash that matched her dress. Was that the same color as he always wore or chosen specifically so they would match? Or had her dress been chosen to match his sash? “Yes.” She tilted her head to look from Benjamin to the painting and back. “You look a little like your father.”

  He stopped next to her. “I’d rather be like him, I think.”

  “You’ll get there. He likely wasn’t the man everyone remembers when he was twenty-five, and he hadn’t been king for twelve years already.”

  “Twenty-six.” Benjamin continued to stare at the tapestry. “I know that on one level, but at the same time...”

  “I didn’t
realize I missed you’d had a birthday.”

  “A few days before we met.”

  “Speaking of birthdays, I haven’t heard how your brother’s babies are doing.” Katrín slipped her hand through his elbow as they exited the room.

  “I talked to Darius earlier today. He said they’re still very little, but doing fine.”

  “Of course they’re little. They’re babies.”

  “Even I know that.”

  Katrín glanced up at him, her lips clamped tightly together as she tried to hide a grin. “Was that a joke?”

  His mouth twitched into a half smile. “It might have been. But what he meant is that they were both just over five pounds when they were born. They have another doctor’s appointment Monday to see how they’re doing. Mother said they reminded her of me. I was born just over a month early. Darius did wish he could be here for the party, but it’s just not really an option.”

  “I didn’t know you were a preemie.”

  “Most people don’t. I was small but healthy.”

  “You overcame your preemie status, and I’m sure they will, too, but you never told me why they haven’t gone public with their relationship.”

  He sighed. “That’s a discussion for another time.”

  “Have they named the girls?”

  Benjamin stopped mid-stride and pulled out his phone. “Yes, but I don’t remember their names. Let me see if I can find the text.” He scrolled back. “Alexis Susanna Eliana Grace is the older one.”

  “Very elegant.”

  “Victoria Amelía Miriam Louise is eight minutes younger.”

  “Also very nice. I’m kind of surprised they didn’t use like Benjamina or Alfreda.” She slid her arm back through his as they started walking down the hall.

  He actually chuckled. “Unlikely it even crossed their minds. Darius did say they thought about Akushla after the first Alfred’s wife, but ultimately dismissed it.”

  “Probably for the best.”

  Benjamin stopped again, turning to face a tapestry hanging there. “This is Alfred, from his days as a knight.” He pointed to his left hand. “That’s the dagger from the Rainbow Reception Room. A Wulfrith dagger. He trained at Wulfen Castle in England and was knighted there.”

  She tried to remember what he’d told her about the knight tapestries. “Is this one of the ones you mentioned to me when you told me about the rosettes?”

  His face returned to its normal look. “Yes. It is.”

  Clearly something that bothered him. He started back toward the ballroom where they were going.

  A shuddering boom stopped him in his tracks seconds before a loud clanging sound filled the palace.

  Benjamin froze for a split-second then grabbed her arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  Katrín tried to wrench her arm from Benjamin’s grasp, but he held firm as he dragged her behind King Alfred’s tapestry.

  There was no light once it whispered back into place behind them, but she could hear Benjamin muttering to himself.

  “There it is,” he said a little louder.

  “What’s going on?” She tugged her arm against his grip.

  “Sh.”

  She could hear the series of clicks that meant the wall would be opening. After they were through it, he loosened his grip slightly and turned on his phone’s flashlight. Their footsteps echoed throughout the corridor.

  The spiked heel caught in a crack pitching her forward into Benjamin’s back, her nose connecting with his shoulder blade.

  “Come on.” His urgency didn’t diminish but he did slow a bit.

  An alcove appeared on the right. He pushed her in ahead of him, blocking the corridor from her with his body. “Open it. Down on the bottom.”

  She took his phone and found the small stones about knee level. A few seconds later, the door swung toward the inside. When it closed behind them, Katrín breathed a sigh of relief, though she still didn’t know why.

  “Care to tell me why we’re here?”

  In the glow from his phone’s light, she saw him turning on a lantern. “I don’t know why we’re here.” He turned, his eyes going wide. “Are you all right?”

  “What?”

  He started looking around. “Your nose.”

  Katrín reached up to find the skin below it sticky, her fingertip red when she pulled it away. “You gave me a bloody nose.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Your back did because you were practically dragging me down the corridor, and I tripped.”

  He pulled the pocket square out of his breast pocket. “Here. Use this. There’s supposed to be all kinds of supplies in here, but I’m not finding napkins easily.”

  Whatever adrenaline that had kept her from realizing she’d hurt herself began to wear off. “Do you have any pain relievers in here?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair as Katrín looked around for a place to sit down. A cabinet, probably filled with those supplies, stood on one wall and a giant trunk on another. She walked to it and sat down as Benjamin began to pace.

  She checked his phone. “So palace wifi doesn’t penetrate through this many stone walls?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Much like he had weeks earlier in the elevator, he walked in squares, mumbling to himself.

  “Why are we here?” she asked again.

  “I have no idea. The alarm goes off, you get to a secure location as soon as you can. Period.”

  “And this is a secure location?” She needed to get him talking again.

  “Supposedly. You have to know where to find the secret doors and how to open them. Then you have to know the alcove has a door to this room.”

  She looked at the handkerchief. The bleeding seemed to slow already. Good. “This isn’t your first time in a bugout room, is it?”

  “No.”

  With her head leaning back against the wall, Katrín closed her eyes. “I bet Thor does drills, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. I don’t participate. Not fully. I’ll go in the corridor, stay near the door for a few minutes, then use the tunnels to get as close to my quarters as possible. Once I make it there, I let him know and stay put.”

  “You don’t think he’s doing a drill and just didn’t tell you to make sure you respond appropriately?”

  “No.”

  The single word, bit off at the end, told her something. He’d been in a room, much like this one, and it scared him. Something happened to him in one of those rooms. If Thor didn’t run surprise drills, at least not surprises to Benjamin, there was a very, very good reason for it.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t chill. We could be here a while until they clear up whatever the situation is.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  She managed not to sigh and glare at him. “That we’re going to be here a while or you’re going to make yourself sick?”

  “Both. Whatever is going on must be something really bad for them to sound the general alarm and not text me immediately that there’s no real danger. My stomach is in knots, and I’m glad I haven’t eaten anything.”

  He was going to wear a deep path into the stone. “Benjamin!”

  Snapping at him worked for a few seconds until he went back into his annoyed state. Then he glared and kept walking.

  What he’d said the last time they were stuck. “When we were getting off the elevator, you told me no one knew you were claustrophobic.”

  “No one does.”

  “Then why does Thor always tell you about the drills? Why doesn’t he surprise you like everyone else?”

  “Because he knows I absolutely will not stand for it. He does not know why.”

  “You don’t think he suspects?”

  “I have no idea what he thinks.” Benjamin let out a frustrated growl. “This room isn’t big enough to pace in.”

  “Then sit down.”

  “No.”

  “Then make yourself sick. See if
I care. I’m warning you, though, if you start gagging, I probably will, too.”

  “Is your nose okay?”

  “I think so. No permanent damage done.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  Keep him talking. “How many of these bugout rooms are there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That was helpful. “Do you know where they all are?”

  “I think so.”

  He needed a distraction. “Then count them.”

  “There’s this one.”

  Katrín couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I’m proud of you for noticing.”

  That brought him to a halt. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously what?”

  “You’re going to give me a hard time.”

  “If it gets you to stop pacing I will.”

  With that he started again, ticking the safe rooms off on his fingers. “A dozen? Maybe a couple more I’m forgetting.”

  “But you’re still pacing.”

  He stopped, but jumped up and down in place a few times. “I won’t sit still until we’re out of here.”

  Time to pull out the big guns. “What if I told you I was pregnant?”

  29

  That stopped Benjamin in his tracks. His knees gave way beneath him. Fortunately, he was near enough the other trunk to sit on it. “What?”

  She stared him straight in the eye, her face as expressionless as he’d ever seen it. “I said, ‘what if I told you I was pregnant?’ Would that get you to stop pacing?”

  He managed to calm himself enough to really hear what she said. “Are you pregnant?”

  Katrín didn’t wilt under his gaze. “No. I’m not.”

  “Could you still get pregnant?”

  She arched one neatly groomed eyebrow at him. “Are you planning to do any of the sorts of things that people do to get pregnant with me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I can’t get pregnant.”