“You are taking delight in surprising your staff today. Either they will hate the effect I am having on you, or love me. Which will it be?”
“Confusion; but the change will be appreciated in due time. Breaking free of one’s comfort zone takes time.”
“I can attest to that.” Megan watched him pick up his wine glass and look to her to do likewise. “Ryan, I thought you didn’t drink alcohol? I don’t drink wine – ever. Never could acquire the taste for it and the misconduct it promotes in a sane person goes against my faith.”
He winked. “It non-alcoholic – some cranberry cocktail mixture that is quite delightful”
“Thank you,” She raised her glass and they clinked together. “To our first in-house date.”
He grinned but did not pursue the dating subject. “So, you are a religious woman?”
“Christian – there’s a difference.”
“I would love to debate the topic with you. My family are traditional church members, baptized into the faith, but I would not classify them as evangelistic Christ-like followers. Perhaps you’d like to pray before our meal?”
Megan bowed her head. “Lord, we thank you for your abundant blessings and this meal that has been prepared for us. Bless the staff that has labored on our behalf and make the food nourishing to our bodies. Amen.” Before she lifted her head, Megan added, “P.S. And thank you for bringing Ryan across my path. May our relationship, whatever it is to become, bring honor and glory to your name. Amen.”
Ryan reached for Megan’s hand as they silently walked through the gardens. “We have much to talk about, yet I relish the quietness with you. It’s like you are already my best friend, comfortable on all levels of communication. I believe I’ve heard it called, love at first sight?”
“I have many good friends – don’t confuse that type of love with what transpires between a man and a woman. It needs to be a blend of both.”
“I’ve never loved a woman. Sad thing for a man of my age to admit. Lady Francis Winslow comes closest to meeting love’s requirements in my world, but now I see we are merely good support for one another, with like-minded interests and goals. But no chemistry – not like I feel with you.”
“The lady at the ruins, right? Is she still at the castle?”
“Ran like a shot when she heard I’d invited you. Probably needs to go home and re-think her plan of attack.”
“This man-hunt sounds serious,” said Megan.
“I never promised her anything but friendship. Our parents have manipulated our futures but I shall be king soon and will follow my heart.”
Megan could not deny the relief she felt in his words. The man who’d freely opened his royal soul to her, was fast satisfying every detail her heart craved. A separation at this point seemed unthinkable, for she could not imagine life without him.
“Ryan, I’m scared, and feel like a naughty child playing outside the boundaries of my reality.”
“Other kingdoms have traversed the blood lines of their monarchy. Edstrom can do likewise.”
“We talk around love and commitment like it’s a commodity we can switch up at a moment’s notice. Edstrom is steeped in tradition and one reckless week with an American does not a marriage make, Ryan. How did our dreams reach so far into the future?”
“I will wait for you as long as it takes, Megan, for I’ve known from the beginning that you were meant to be my Queen.”
Megan laughed nervously. “Queen! I was thinking wife. Your country is not ready for me.”
“But I am, and love is one area I will not surrender to the set of rules written ages ago.” That playful look returned to his face. “No one has ever taken a poll from my countrymen. Perhaps commoners could care less about true blood. The only thing I know today is that my mind is freed to reveal a life I’d have never felt brave enough to chase. It’s as if a thickly veiled curtain has ripped open wide and I feel the urgency to race through before it draws closed again.”
“Enough doom and gloom. “’Tis the season to be jolly and time will tell our story. I’ve not even met your mother yet, but Princess Jasmine is adorable.”
“Would you care to trim a tree? Our Christmas Spruce is being delivered and set in place as we speak. One in the family room and the other in the Ballroom where the upcoming festivities will take place.”
“Does Prince Ryannaus usually help the staff to decorate?”
“Not at all. He’s usually too busy working,” he chuckled. “But perhaps we should stick to the family room. Put some new touches on the old tree. Jasmine and Eramosa can join us. They’ll consider it great fun.”
Megan had almost given up on the idea of trimming a tree – in fact this vacation had been a secret escape from such a task, but somewhere in the past week that had changed. “There’s nothing I’d rather do. Let’s tackle the tree.” When they stepped back through the patio doors, Megan gasped. “That’s the largest and most perfect spruce I’ve ever seen.”
“We have our own Royal Forest.” Ryan addressed the maids who toted in boxes. “Miss Fairchild and I would like to assist. Please, Syri, would you fetch my sisters so they can join in the fun?” The maid hurried off to do his bidding while the mountain of containers grew in the corner beside a ladder brought in for the job.
“How does one design such a massive tree?” asked Megan.
He motioned toward the workers. “These are the experts. This once, I feel we should dress the tree as they recommend and not rock the boat. Mum will expect it to be picture-perfect.”
“May I be so bold as to ask for my own personal, table size tree in my room?” This year, she’d like to hang the Tiara ornament in her room. The theme of the gift from Ms. Claus seemed all too coincidental and accurate, demanding at the very least, her private recognition.
“You can ask for the moon and I would try to deliver it to your door,” said Ryan.
“Thank you. The tree is fine for now,” she said. They sat on the couch and watched the men string hundreds of lights, and when they turned them on to test the layout, they heard gasps at the door. Princesses, Jasmine and Eramosa had arrived.
The youngest raced to Ryan’s side and hugged his waist fiercely. Looking up into his face, she mouthed the words, “Thank you, for rescuing me.” Megan noticed the guardian taking her place off to the side and bit back the grin. Ryan bent and whispered in the child’s ear and immediately arms transferred to Megan and she could barely hold back the tears the action generated. It felt so good to be hugged.
Soon James and Suzanne came in search of Ryan and Megan, and now a party of six slowed the advance of the expert crew. No one dared to openly disagree with ideas from the royal family but on the sly, shifted items here and there to compensate for balance.
“When I was young,” Megan told the girls, “the entire family had specific jobs; one did the lights, another the bulbs, tinsel, ribbons, and my part was to spray the tips of branches with snow.”
“Snow!” squealed Eramosa. “I want snow on the tree.” She appealed to her brother. “Ryan, where can we find snow in Edstrom?”
Ryan shrugged his shoulders and glanced at James for the answer. “I believe they sell an artificial brand in cans that you spray on, sir.”
“Can we?” Jasmine danced. “I’ve seen pictures of Christmas around the world and winter wonderlands are my favorite.”
Ryan nodded to his right-hand-man. “Can you see to that, James? The family wants snow. Mum shall have to bend this tiny bit.”
A voice at the door spoke in a firm tone, and everyone in the room silenced and pivoted to face her. “What does Mum have to do?”
Ryan moved toward his mother. “Jasmine was saying how she appreciates photos of wintry-white landscapes and apparently you can buy the stuff in a can at the store. Meg says you just spray the tips of the branches, as if real snow landed and stuck there.”
“Meg says that, does she?” The stately woman dressed in a green suit, wore a crown of chestnut hair wound tigh
tly on top of her head. She turned her attention to the newcomers in the room. “And which of these lovely ladies is Meg?”
Ryan rushed over and grabbed her hand, winking before he turned to escort her to his mother. She’d seen the staff curtsy when the lady of the house walked in the room and hoped she could mimic their action.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Megan Fairchild, an American guest from Springvale, in the Americas.” He turned an encouraging smile toward Meg. “This is Queen Ursula Jamane Edstrom, my mother and the most beloved female in all the kingdom.” He chortled when Megan managed a curtsy then turned playfully to the older woman who scanned the younger from head to toe. “Until I take a bride, of course, who will undoubtedly win the favor of the people with her outgoing charisma.”
The noble did not rebuke her son with words but Megan recognized the motherly scolding that told all. She refocused her attention on Megan. “And do you think our country needs a Queen that wins favor by belittling herself to the whims of commoners?”
Megan could kick Ryan for bringing such a conflicting subject into the introduction. She swallowed the lump in her throat and decided to ride the fence. “As a visitor to this wonderful country, Your Majesty, I could not hope to know what the people want in their leadership.”
“Wisely answered.”
“But from what I’ve seen, your son has a great rapport with the villagers, and is wise beyond his years.”
“With all the training his father has poured into him, I should hope so. His Coronation is in five days. Has he invited you?”
Ryan interrupted. “Not as yet, Mum, but I was getting around to it. I would love for Megan and her friend, Suzanne,” he backed up and yanked the woman clear of James’ grasp, “to attend both the induction and the ball. They will be our guests until the New Year.”
Suzanne did her best curtsy, and smiled. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty. Thank you for opening your home to me.”
The Queen mother huffed politely – if that were possible – and pressed through the middle of the group that had formed. “As if I had a choice,” she murmured while her eyes bore into Ryan on the way toward her daughters. “What’s this I hear – you want snow on the tree?”
“May we, Mum?” pleaded Jasmine, her round eyes shining brighter than the lights glittering on the tree.
“Appears I am a pushover these days. Yes, you may have your snow, but not on the tree in the Ballroom. The public will expect it to look as it always has. And be sure not to leave a mess on the carpet for the staff to clean.”
Queen Mother turned back to Megan. “Will you join me for tea in the parlor?”
“I’d be delighted,” said Megan, not sure if she would or not.
The woman exited the room without a glance back, her erect, unyielding spine giving one last stab at her authority. Ryan nudged his sister. “I think that went well, how about you?”
“Wonderful! I get snow and you get Megan. Mum is having a good day.”
Megan turned and walked to a window. Ryan moved in next to her. “It did go well. I think she likes you.”
“How would you know that? She barely acknowledged me and the dig about outgoing charisma – I hope you are entertaining other women for the position because you weren’t talking about me. I’m an introvert who sneaks out of the shadows on occasion to encourage a man trapped in his grief. Getting swept along in his fantasy was not part of my plan.”
“Deviating from the set-plan is my latest conquest,” Ryan said. “I picture you differently – an introvert, yes, but one with purpose and strength of character. Perhaps you’ve locked yourself a prison tower of your own making.”
Suzanne joined them at the window. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ve been telling her to loosen up for years. Family problems – in case she didn’t tell you.” Megan cast her friend a glare and she backed off. “I think that’s our cue to leave, James. How about we go to town and purchase snow for the holidays?”
James looked at Ryan who nodded. “Enjoy your free time. I do not expect you to ask approval every time you make a move while our guests are here and Legislature is shut down.”
He bowed his head slightly. “We shall return with the snow later this evening.”
The couple skipped from the room and Ryan turned back to face Megan. “Tea is at four.”
“Are you coming?”
“I wasn’t invited. I’m afraid it may be a drill session but please, just be yourself, respectful but don’t let her bully you. I want her to see the giftings that I’ve grown to love and appreciate in you.”
“You throw the word love around far too casually. It holds a much deeper commitment for me and…” he lifted her chin with one finger and wiped traces of a tear with his other finger.
“My nature is not casual. I know the depths of which I speak and its importance to you. But I will not stand down or be put off by your fears. I love you, Megan Fairchild, from first contact when I caught you peering at me through your binoculars.” Megan gasped. “Yes, caught in the act, my dear, but you will find me a willing prisoner. So, despite our short acquaintance, I am smitten, and will continue to beg for your hand until you surrender or choose to leave on your own accord.”
Megan bit her lip as his gaze searched her soul, deep where rejection and the twisted love her father had shown her over the last two years lay in decay. “I wonder if you have the key to my prison tower, Ryan Edstrom,” she whispered.
Ryan pushed Megan gently into an alcove while the room buzzed with activity. There he claimed her trembling lips. When he pulled away, he said, “I have the keys to this entire country, fair maiden. Surely one will fit your tower.”
Ryan squeezed her hand at the entrance to the parlor door where his mother entertained business ventures and a few friendships privately. This was her space to wage war or build bridges. “I will pray she is kind and offers grace to my desires.”
He knocked and she called out, “Enter.” Megan squared her shoulders. She’d faced lions in her lifetime and she’d not back down to even a well-meaning tyrant. Queen Ursula moved out from behind a mahogany desk. “Just finishing up some correspondence.” She grabbed a bell and rang it. Almost immediately a side door opened and a trolley was wheeled in. A silver tea set sat in the middle with two cups and saucers. “Please sit, Miss Fairchild, while tea is served.”
No one spoke while the maid passed napkins, tea cups filled to the brim, and a side plate of fruit pastry, adorned with a tear-shaped swirl of whipped cream. Megan felt grateful there’d be no chance to mess up her face with gooey dessert while in the Queen’s parlor. When the door closed and her hostess took the first sip, Megan joined in the tea party.
“My son tells me you saved his life so I must assume he hid his grief from me. Death plays havoc on a family’s unity.”
“He cares for your well being and did not want to increase your burden,” said Megan. “I am sorry for your loss. My mother is deceased and Father has estranged himself from me, so I can relate to disunity and the ripples death creates on the home-front. But I hope that changes in the near future. My father appears to need more adjustment than your well-discipled son.”
“Yes, Prince Ryannaus has been schooled well in his responsibilities. He is next in line for the throne.” She peered at Megan over the rim of her cup.
“He told me that.”
“And that fact does not scare you?”
“Of course, it does. Any commoner in her right mind – especially an American visitor – would be in awe at a Prince taking notice of her. But I cared for him when he was merely Ryan, before he dropped the bombshell of his true identity.”
“All well and good to say, but you’ve admitted an American is a worse choice than even a commoner within his own country. Surely you see that such a relationship would never survive.”
Megan boiled on the inside at the twist made on her words but chose not to contradict the Queen Mother. “I’m curious; has history proven that the heart cannot make as good
a choice as third parties who train lifelong partners from birth? I believe such unions are not characteristic of the way God ordained marriage to be.”
“And yet it was done successfully in Bible times.”
“Many roads traveled by our forefathers did not have love as its motivation or cornerstone,” said Megan, “but that doesn’t make it right. Who knows how the tides of history might have evolved if love had been allowed its way?”
“I’ve watched other countries face devasting scandal from women not suited or prepared to share a King’s throne,” the Queen Mother insisted.
“And what would you have me do? Break your son’s heart and deny us a chance at true love?” asked Megan.
“Yes, exactly.” Her cold eyes peered through Megan, causing her to squirm under the rigid confrontation. “Hearts will mend but an unstable kingdom shall surely fall.”
“Ryan and I were hoping for a more gracious attitude. You must know your son has set his mind on pursuing me. I’m afraid he will not be swayed by you or me.”
“A woman has power over a man’s heart. This is not on my son, but you, to do the right thing.”
Megan placed the cup on the table and stood displaying the firmest set to her jaw – the one she used on patients that needed to give-it-up. “First, you need to relax and let this romance play out one way or the other. We are not planning to elope. And secondly, you need to give your son breathing room to become the King he envisions himself to be. He is a fine leader and spouts ingenious plans for his country.”
“You are a strong woman to speak so frankly to me,” Queen Ursula said. “I understand you are a doctor of psychiatry?”
“I do my best to unravel troubled minds and set captives free,” said Megan.
“Sanity reins in Edstrom Isle, and frankly, my dear, your services are not required.”
Megan choked from the air that suddenly became heavy and corrosive. She gulped in the few remaining whiffs that the woman had not poisoned. “Is teatime over, Your Majesty, or do you have more venom to spit my way?”
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