The Indentured Queen

by Carol Moncado

  “We didn’t plan the other times either.”

  Her face softened some. “No. We didn’t.”

  “Could you already be pregnant and not know it yet?”

  Her eyes closed, and she seemed to be counting, at least if the twitching of her fingers was any indication. “It’s possible, but I don’t think it’s likely. The timing wasn’t right.”

  That particular knot in his gut began to loosen. “If you’re wrong, you’ll tell me as soon as you know?”

  “Because you want to know if my anticipated death will leave you both an allegedly grieving widower and a very real single father?” Her tone was far softer than the words would imply.

  “Yes.”

  No.

  He didn’t know anymore.

  She’d begun to sneak her way under his skin. When he’d proposed the deal to her, he hadn’t expected to get to know her. If pressed, he would have said he didn’t expect their lives to change much at all, though looking back that seemed incredibly naive.

  “You wouldn’t really be a single father, you know. Not if you didn’t want to be one.” Her voice cut through his thoughts.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know your mother has been a very hands-on parent, and your father was, too, but you don’t have to be. Lots of monarchs aren’t. Find a good nanny or two. Trot the kid out on big occasions. Make sure he or she knows how to be a good king or queen eventually. But you don’t have to start that training until the teen years are nearly over.”

  Did she really think that little of him? Most of his people probably thought the same thing, though. If what their newest employees said was truly accurate. He shoved the thought to the side. “I was king when I was thirteen.”

  “And odds are, you’ll be king until your heir is much, much older than that. Look at Queen Elizabeth. I’m pretty sure they conducted some experiment on her and Prince Philip during World War II and made them both invincible like Captain America. I think they’re both immortal. Prince Charles has been in waiting since he was like three or four. He’s almost seventy. Your kid could be waiting until, literally, the next century.”

  Benjamin let his head fall back against the wall behind him. “You really think that’s likely?”

  She gave the half-laugh/half-snort thing she did from time to time. “No. Of course not. But I doubt your child will become queen or king at thirteen like you did.”

  His eyes closed. “I sincerely hope not.”

  “Hey. Look at me.”

  She’d leaned forward, her navy gown shifting with her as she did. “I really don’t think you’re going to be that kind of dad. You grew up quickly without one. I can’t imagine you doing the same thing to your children when you’re still here to be with them. In fact, I think you’ll even let them show up for breakfast in their pajamas sometimes, even after they turn five.”

  He managed a half-smile. “I might.” Something she’d said before they were married came back to him. “I might even do the pajamas on Christmas thing.”

  “You should. At least until you do any official stuff that day. I wouldn’t show up wearing reindeer pants if you go to that soup kitchen like your mother sometimes does.”

  That pulled a small laugh from him. “It might boost my popularity.” He stared at the ceiling until he realized she was walking across the small room.

  Katrín sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder as she took his hand. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “Being in here?” It wasn’t as bad as it had been a few minutes earlier.

  “No. The popularity thing. It bothers you that the people don’t like you.”

  Benjamin started to give his standard, glib answer. It didn’t really matter how many people liked him. No one was liked by everyone. But she would see right through him.

  How did she do that?

  “Not so much popularity as approval.” He needed to change the subject, though. “Have you lost someone close to you?” he asked, avoiding the question.

  “My father left us when my brother was tiny. They told us he wouldn’t survive his first week after birth. My father would have preferred that. When the going got tough, he took off. I have no idea where he is, except he’s probably not in Eyjania. For all I know, he’s dead. Or remarried with five kids and twelve grandkids.”

  “Really?”

  “Probably not the grandkids. It hasn’t been quite twenty years yet.”

  Benjamin let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “You know that hole inside that never quite goes away?”

  She nodded against the front of his shoulder.

  “That’s how the popularity thing is. I want Eyjanians to like me, to think I’m doing a good job, to approve of the job I’m doing. I’m doing the best I know how, but I’ll never be the man my father was.”

  “You don’t need to be. Your father did the public persona thing incredibly well. From what I’ve read, he never made a public misstep, though it’s possible those he did make have faded in the wake of his untimely death. You’ll never be him, but hiding here, in your palace, only showing up when you have to and looking cranky the whole time, isn’t the way to make the public fall in love with Benjamin. They want to, but they don’t know you.”

  He leaned his head to the side, her tiara catching on his beard and causing him to shift his head a bit further back. “How do I do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Her hand rested on his thigh, just above his knee, and her forefinger began tapping. “I’ve done a lot of research on some of the other royal families, particularly of smaller countries recently, particularly the ones represented at the party in Montevaro. What if you found a reporter you could trust? Let him or her into the palace to see how hard you work, see you with your siblings. I know you help Alfred with his homework sometimes. I’ve seen you with all of them. You feel like you have to be their father figure, even though that’s not your job. Let your people see you working out with your trainer. Maybe even show them this room. Tell them what it’s like to be stuck in here when you have no idea what’s going on in the outside world.”

  The tension flooded back, and he stood, almost not caring that she nearly fell to the side. “No. No one comes in here.”

  Catching herself before she hit the corner of the trunk, Katrín pushed back upright. “Touched a soft spot, did I?”

  He glared.

  She kicked off her shoes. They hurt. Standing in front of him as he paced, she reached out and put her hands on his chest. “Listen to me.” Using her most soothing tone, she tried to get him to focus. “Take a deep breath in and hold it until I tell you to let it out.”

  His nostrils flared as he continued to nearly hyperventilate.

  “Don’t make me have to find a paper bag in this place.” Her tone sharpened. “Deep breath in.”

  She saw him suck in air and hold it. After counting to five, she spoke again. “Slowly breathe out through your mouth. In through your nose, ten count, out through your mouth.”

  His blue eyes snapped, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Do it,” she ordered.

  A minute later, his shoulders began to relax.

  “Now, you’re going to have a seat over on the trunk. I’m going to look through the cabinet.”

  Benjamin followed her instructions, taking his seat again, though this time he tugged at his tie until it came loose and he’d unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

  Katrín turned the handle on the metal cabinet that looked surprisingly modern, but had to have come from the 1980s or so. Inside, she found a case of water bottles. Looking for a use by date, she realized it had been restocked in the last year. But it was water. It would have been okay anyway, wouldn’t it?

  She poked her thumb through the plastic and tore it open until she could get two bottles out. Holding one out to Benjamin, she waited for him to take it. “I wouldn’t drink too much too fast. You don’t want to have to go to
the bathroom down here.”

  That brought another half-smile from him. “No. I’d rather not.” But he twisted the cap off and took a sip. She did the same then turned back to the cabinet.

  “What else is in here?”

  “Should be some snacks, enough to get us through a couple of days if needed.”

  “And if whatever this is drags on longer than that?”

  “We stay here until we, literally, cannot stay any longer. Then we leave and go to the actual shelter unless we’ve received instructions otherwise.”

  That made her turn and glare at him. “There’s another shelter? One that probably has real furniture and food?”

  “It does. Thor never told you where it was?”

  She glared at him. “Does this look like the face of someone who knows these things?”

  He glanced her way. “No. But the rules are you get to one of these shelters. If there’s no all clear or no one comes for you, and you’re out of supplies, then you go to the main shelter. The only exception is if you’re already close to the main shelter.”

  “Where is it?”

  He looked over at her, mild shock on his face. “You really don’t know?”

  She glared again and shook her head. “I really don’t.”

  “Your room? The one you lived in for the last few years?”

  “I remember it well.” Too well. She hated it.

  “Most of that side of the hallway is really a secret hideout. Even behind your room is part of the complex. There’s a secret door between your room and the shelter.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

  His brows pulled together. “Why would I joke about that?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t believe I never knew that.”

  “Most people don’t.” He didn’t even smirk. “If they did, it would void the whole concept of a secret shelter.”

  “Good point.” Something else occurred to her. She’d meant to ask earlier when she told him about her father, but had been sidetracked. “What about my family?”

  “What about them?”

  “Where do they hide out?”

  He took another sip of his water, and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs as he undid another button on his shirt. “I honestly don’t know. I’m sure they’re fine. They haven’t even moved in yet, have they?”

  “Not until next week, but they were here today going over what they wanted to keep in the cottage. My sister, Nína, officially still works for the Crown Prince of Mevendia’s wife, but they’re taking a breather right now, so she’s here until they go back to Mevendia. She redid their house earlier this year, so she’s working with Mama and the people here.”

  “Good.”

  “So where will they go?” She pressed for an answer.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure the security teams are on it.”

  He took another sip of water, prompting her to as well. “What about your family?”

  “They’re probably all in rooms like this.”

  He grew silent after that statement, and she turned to the cabinet. “There’s some games in here to help pass the time.” Pulling a deck of cards off the shelf, she turned and held them up. “Poker?”

  “What do we have to bet with?”

  “There’s a box of chips, but that’s a good point. There’s no real stakes.” An idea popped, fully formed, into her mind. “Unless we play a version of Truth or Dare at the same time.”

  He looked up from the water bottle he’d been studying intently. “What?”

  She waved her hand to dismiss his question. “Never mind. I know how we’re going to do this. Push the two trunks together over there, would you?” After pointing to where she wanted them, Katrín pulled the chips out as well.

  Setting them on the trunks, she hiked up her skirt and sat on the floor with her back to the wall. Picking up the cards, she pointed to the other side. “Have a seat. Give us each a single set of chips while I deal? One color each, don’t divide them out.”

  “You really think playing for pieces of plastic is enough incentive for this?”

  “Nope. I do think bragging rights could come into play. I also think you won’t want to lose.”

  “Of course I don’t want to lose.”

  She dealt the cards. “It’s more than that. Don’t bet more chips than you can afford to lose. Because every time I collect ten of your chips, you have to answer a question and answer it honestly. Same the other way around.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  Time to sweeten the pot. “I promise I won’t ask why you’re freaked out and claustrophobic.”

  Benjamin gave a wary nod. “Fine.”

  Hopefully her smile hid her true intentions. She wouldn’t ask, but Katrín had every intention of figuring out why so she could help him through it.

  “Fold.” Benjamin tossed his hand down, even though he was almost certain it would have won. Without absolute certainty, he wouldn’t play.

  Katrín was cute when she was annoyed. “You haven’t played one hand yet.”

  “So? I’m not going to bet a bunch of chips when I don’t think I can win.” It was bad enough she’d insisted both of them had to toss a chip in every hand. Eight hands in and he had none of her chips, but she was closing in on being able to ask him anything she wanted.

  The tenth hand came before he knew it. As much as he didn’t want to play it, the hand was too good.

  Her mouth dropped open when he tossed four more chips on the pile. “You’re playing it? Really?”

  “Call or raise?”

  “Call.” She put four chips in and turned her cards over. “Two pair. Aces and eights.”

  A smile crept across his face as he turned his. “Full house. Queens over Aces.”

  Katrín groaned but pushed the chips toward him. “You live another round, Benji.”

  And another round was all he lived. She won, somehow managing to end up with fifteen total chips.

  Counting out ten, she handed them over. “Which of your siblings is your favorite?”

  Not what he expected. He’d thought she’d try for something deep and personal. Instead, he had to actually think about it rather than just refusing. “I don’t know. Genevieve, I guess. We go to the most events together, or we did. For identical twins, she and Evangeline have very different personalities. Half the time, when Evangeline was supposed to join me for something, she’d cancel and Genevieve would come instead.”

  “Well, neither one of them have to worry about being your official date again for a while.” She tossed some more cards in front of him. “Ante up.”

  Ten minutes later, she asked him another question. “What happened the night we met?”

  Benjamin blinked. “You were there.”

  She waved her hand. “I mean at the Mevendian dinner. No one seems to know.”

  Right. That. “I stood up to my uncle for the first time when he almost hit Princess Margaret. I grabbed his arm as he went to backhand her.”

  She looked as shocked as he’d been when it happened. “Wow.”

  “That doesn’t go any further than this,” he warned. “As far as I know, no one else knows, except the four of us that were there.” No, that couldn’t be right. “I’m sure William told his family. They were all there that evening when Margaret passed out.”

  “She passed out? Is she okay?”

  He’d gotten a report from his family physician, though not all the details. “Apparently, she’d been working too hard, not taking care of herself, and was newly pregnant. She didn’t actually pass out, but came close. I was dancing with her when she collapsed, and I carried her to their room.” He tried to give her his best king look. “She’s a lot like someone else I know.”

  Katrín just rolled her eyes. He didn’t really think they were too much alike in that sense, though they both worked hard. He suspected Katrín knew when she needed to say enough was enough and was willing to do so more than Margaret had been.
/>   “What happened between her and Prince Isaiah?”

  Benjamin wasn’t sure how much to say without making his uncle look worse than necessary. “He RSVPd that he wouldn’t be there, showed up an hour late, and made a scene. When she refused to give him a seat at the head table, he became enraged. When I stepped in, he tried to pull rank on me. He went so far as to tell me I had to respect him because he’s my uncle. I reminded him I was his king. Then I told him he had three days to get out of the palace.”

  Realization crossed her face. “That’s what was going on at the other end of the palace. I thought I could get away with playing the piano that night because everyone was preoccupied with all that.”

  He pointed to the cards. “I think you got more than your ten coins worth.”

  She shuffled again. He asked her a question, though he couldn’t come up with anything really good.

  A few minutes later, it was her turn again. “How many other women have you ever told to meet you in your quarters? Or your office or anywhere else?”

  If he’d known what she was going to ask, he would have expected her to avoid looking at him, but instead her dark eyes held his gaze without flinching. He had to be honest. “None.”

  “Then why did you think you could tell me to?”

  Benjamin thought about reminding her she hadn’t earned another question, but had the impression this question was more important than he realized. He couldn’t tell her about the men in his family, how they knew who they’d marry the first time they met a woman. Not when he’d only just starting admitting to himself it might actually be the case. “You intrigued me. I wanted to get to know you.”

  “You didn’t think to ask me to dinner? Instead you thought propositioning me was the way to go?”

  Benjamin pulled his knees up until he could rest his forearms on them. “Isaiah always told me I could expect any woman I wanted to jump at the chance to sleep with me. I didn’t really expect anything to happen.” No, he had to be completely honest. “I don’t think. I really don’t know what I expected.”

  “You put up a good front,” she told him softly. “You talk a good game, but deep down you’re just like the rest of us. Scared of failure. Of being found wanting. Not being enough. But for you, the stakes are much higher than they are for most people.”