The Royal Treatment (13 page)

“Thanks.” She squeezed his arm, then let go—it was his gun arm. “You’re the best.”

“Yup. Keep it in mind,” he added with a grin.

K
urt walked her back to her room, dropped a brotherly kiss to her forehead, and disappeared for parts unknown after admonishing her to beep him when she wanted to go somewhere again. But the only place Chris wanted to go was bed…she had a splitting headache and needed a nap. Possibly two. She hadn’t…well, she hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

There was a black velvet ring box in the middle of her (made) bed.

“Dammit,” she muttered. A) she’d been after the chambermaids to leave her room alone, and B) another ring.

She sighed and picked the box up. She ran through her litany of excuses: it’s not me, it feels funny on my hand, I don’t like the setting, I don’t like the band, it’s too expensive, it’s—

Oh.

She’d popped the lid open and stared hungrily at the ring. It was—it was just fine. In fact, it was beautiful. A largish, light blue stone, set in a simple silver setting. After months of turning down rings, she knew good cut and clarity when she saw it. The blue stone—topaz? aquamarine?—was about two carats. A little larger than she would have liked, but not embarrassingly so.

She slid it on her finger. It fit perfectly. The stone caught the natural light in her room and seemed to wink at her.

Oh, it was…it was just…

Oh.

T
wo hours later, she sagged to a stop outside Al’s office, then rapped on the door. For a wonder, he was in—usually he had snuck off to fish by this time of the day.

“What’s up?” he asked, glumly signing paper after paper.

“You know what you need? You need a computer like on
Star Trek.
You know how the captain says, ‘Computer, locate Commander Riker,’ and the computer says, ‘Commander Riker is boinking Troi in the holodeck,’ or whatever? That’s what this palace needs.”

“Who can’t you find?”

“Who d’you think? Your son! I’ve looked everywhere and I’m fucking exhausted!”

“Not just run-of-the-mill exhausted?” the king asked, grinning a little. “Fucking exhausted?”

“I’m going to ignore that with the dignity it doesn’t deserve. He’s not in the penguin room, he’s not in the gallery, the cooks told me he ate hours ago but he hasn’t left the grounds, Edmund doesn’t have a clue, Jenny just used the opportunity to bug me about shoe shopping, and Kurt doesn’t know.”

“He and his brothers and sisters are at the family plot,” Al said. He capped his pen and ignored the overflowing in-bin. “Today is the anniversary of their mother’s death.”

“Oh.” Shit. “Uh…” Shit. “Well…”

“It’s all right. We should have told you. But you’d left to see Dr. Pohl and frankly, we didn’t think hanging out at the family crypt was going to be your idea of a good time, so they went without you.”

“Well…no…but…” Incredibly, stupidly, she was hurt that the prince hadn’t asked her to come. She was going to be his wife. This was her dead future mother-in-law, after all. And he’d—they’d—left her. Gone off and left her. “Well. I’m sorry to barge in and all…”

“No prob, Chris. You’re welcome in here anytime.”

“Is there—how come you aren’t there now?”

“I went this morning,” the king said quietly.

“Oh.” She could feel her face getting red; this was turning into one of the most painfully embarrassing scenes she’d ever been in the middle of. And she’d been in the middle of plenty. “Okay. Well…thanks for letting me know. Sorry to interrupt your work. What are you doing, anyway?”

“Signing bills into laws. You know, regular paperwork.”

“Sure. Regular paperwork. Okay. Well, see ya later.”

“Stay out of trouble,” he said absently, already back at work.

“Too late,” she muttered, closing the door behind her. Where she promptly ran into Edmund. “Geeyah!
Must
you sneak up on me like a goddamned ghoul all the time?”

“Yes, my lady. A moment of your time?”

“Why didn’t you tell me the prince was hanging out by his mom’s grave, fool?”

Edmund blinked in surprise. “I didn’t think he still was.” He glanced at his watch. “Hmm. Well, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Well, good. I need to talk to him. Check this out!” She proudly flashed her ring. “Isn’t it great?”

“Praise the Lord—the lady has made a selection.”

“I’ve told you a zillion times, stop talking about me in the third person. What do you want, anyway?”

“I’d like you to come along with me and approve your apartments.”

“My what?” She fell into step beside him, which wasn’t easy because he had a stride like an ostrich.

“Where you and His Highness will live after the wedding.”

“Oh. We’re living here? Is that what David wants?”

“I would imagine so, my lady, as he’s the one who gave the orders for these apartments to be finished well before your wedding day.”

“Thanks for asking, Dave,” she mumbled.

“Beg pardon, my lady?”

“Nothing. So, we’re gonna live here? All the time? Not that I mind, because this is a really nice place, and it’s plenty big enough for all of us, but…”

“The prince also has homes in Boston, London, Prince Edward Island, and Rome.”

“Coastal towns,” she said.

“Well. His Highness
is
a marine biologist.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“My ears are burning,” someone said from behind them. Edmund didn’t break stride, but Christina whirled.

“David! There you are. I’ve been looking all over the place for you. Literally, all over the place. What’s this about living at the palace after we get married?”

“What’s this about honeymooning in New York?”

“Well, I was gonna run it by you,” she muttered.

“Ditto.”

He fell into step beside her. Today, interestingly, he was wearing a black suit, which set off his dark hair superbly. He was freshly shaved and she caught the clean, sharp smell of his aftershave lotion.

“So, um, how’d it go at the cemetery?”

“As well as could be expected. I’m sorry, I thought you had our schedule for the day.”

“I don’t read them,” she admitted.

“Ah.”

“Hey, listen, Dave, I love the ring.”

His brow furrowed. “Which one?”

“This one,” she said, showing him her hand. “It’s the greatest. And the latest! Thanks a million. I hope it didn’t—you know—it wasn’t too much trouble to find.”

“No.” He smiled, took her hand, looked at it for a moment, squeezed it, let go. “It wasn’t. I’m glad you like it. You’re keeping this one, then?”

“You bet I am!”

“Wonderful. Did you show it to Kurt?”

“Not yet—I just got back and saw it. Well…just got back three hours ago, I mean. I’ve been looking
everywhere
for you.” He was finally loosening up a bit; she was relieved to see it.

“I’m sorry you thought I was lost in the dungeons.”

“Uh…you don’t really have dungeons, do y—”

“Edmund is taking you to our apartments?”

“Yeah. I’m sure they’ll be fine, but listen, we don’t have to live here, like, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, do we?”

“No, of course not.”

“Okay. Maybe you’ll show me your house in Boston sometime.”

“Our
house,” he corrected, and slipped an arm around her waist.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I really love the ring.”

“I’m really relieved.”

“What’s the stone? Blue topaz?”

“Blue diamond,” he corrected. “I thought it would bring out your eyes. And the setting is platinum.”

Whoa. So, instantly, ten times more expensive than her estimate. Well, okay. She loved the ring. All the more so because it meant David had finally started paying attention.

“I didn’t know there were blue diamonds.”

“They’re rare. Like you.”

“Oh, David, that’s so…God, that’s really…just so…” They stopped walking; his face was coming closer, his hand was sliding through her hair, gripping the back of her neck, his lips parted, she leaned toward him, and—

“Ah-
hem!”

David jerked back. Christina glared. “What?”

“Your rooms, sir. My lady. As in, why don’t you get a room. Well, here it is.”

“Hilarious,” she said sourly.

Big surprise, the rooms were huge, gorgeous, amazing, wonderful, blah-blah. She had a moment of blushing confusion when she looked at the king-sized bed—if she had to live with this sexual tension much longer, the prince was going to be raped on his wedding night. But overall the suite—“apartments,” they called them—were terrific. There was a large bedroom the size of the average American’s living room, a palatial bathroom done in golds and (sigh) a sealife motif, a small kitchen where she could whip up some snacks, two offices (what the hell she was expected to do in hers she had no idea), and a small living room with a fireplace and big, plush couches.

“Edmund, it’s wonderful,” David was saying. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Then it’s an ordinary day, Highness. I’m pleased you’re pleased.”

“Yeah, it’s great…um, what am I supposed to do in my office?”

“Whatever you want,” David said, looking surprised at the question.

“Uh-huh. And what are you going to do in yours?”

“My work,” he replied seriously.

“An addendum to Nesting Habits of
Aptenodytes patagonicus?”

“You remembered the name of my paper!” he cried, so delighted he gave her a squeeze.

“Duh. But y’know, David, it’s great that you’re doing all this research and stuff, and I’m glad your papers are getting published because you work really hard on them, but what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a job anymore, and you guys wouldn’t let me cook for large numbers anyway…shit, I can barely get the cooks to let me make myself a sandwich. What’s my job? There’s got to be more to it than “crown princess of Alaska.’ Right?”

“Dad will probably start training both of us on the day-to-day running of the country.”

She tried not to look appalled.

“The legislature does most of it,” Edmund added. “But the sovereign—or sovereigns, in our case—has some duties, official and otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“Alaska is large,” Edmund reminded her, “but its population is small. So you won’t be christening boats or snipping ribbons on new buildings terribly often.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” David said. Then he frowned. “Okay, that’s not exactly true. But it’s nothing
you
can’t handle—how’s that?”

“Slightly less terrifying.”

“My lady, trust me on this if in nothing else: you would not be marrying the prince in thirty-seven days if the king had found you wanting. The fact that you’re still here bodes well…for all of us.”

“Swell. I don’t suppose I can fire the cook and take over his job, can I?”

“No. Besides, I hate to see a grown man cry,” Edmund said, glancing at his watch. “Particularly before dinnertime.”

H
ours later, she found the family plot. It was set on the far eastern edge of the palace property, practically
in
the lake. It was, as she expected, beautiful. What in Alaska wasn’t? Shoot, living in this place was like living in a glossy travel magazine.

She ignored the pressing feeling of not belonging. Like it or not (and she liked it…she was pretty sure…), this was soon to be
her
family. She had as much right to be here as anybody. More, maybe.

Even if they hadn’t invited her. Even if they’d gone off and left her—and was she a part of this family or wasn’t she?

Maybe not.

Queen Dara’s mausoleum was set between two soaring trees and, even with twilight coming on, looked sedate rather than scary.

Christina sat cross-legged on the small hill behind the stone building, and thought about dead queens.

I must be out of my mind. One day I’ll be queen and then I’ll die and they’ll stick me back here. What was I thinking about? This is no place for me.

Then her forthright nature reasserted itself. To paraphrase JFK, if not her, who? Sure, she didn’t have the pedigree for the job, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be great.

Well, adequate.

“That’s my goal,” she said aloud, watching the grass wave. “Adequacy. All right, then.”

She stayed by the mausoleum for a long time.

“O
ne
-two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—”

“Ow!” Princess Alexandria complained. “You stomped my foot
again,
you klutzy cow!”

“One more bovine insult,” Christina warned through gritted teeth—she was still counting in her head—“and you’re the only Alaskan princess with dentures.”

“Well, pay attention!”

“—two-three,
one
-two-three—”

“Owwwwww! Will you for Christ’s sakes let me lead?”

“No.”

“Edmund, why are you letting her lead?” Alexandria cried. “My brother’s not going to let her lead, you can be damned sure of that.”

“—two-three,
one
—because I like to live dangerously, Your Highness—two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—”

“Edmund!”

“Stop bitching and count,” Christina said.

“I can’t count—I’m distracted by the fact that my shoes are filling up with blood.”

“Look—I gotta learn to waltz. And if I danced with Edmund, I wouldn’t be able to see past his belly button.”

“Why isn’t David in here teaching you?”

“
One
-two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—because His Highness already knows how to waltz.”

“Well, so does
my
Highness.”

“Yeah,” Christina said, “but I want to be able to surprise Dave with my waltzing virtuosity.”

“So, you’re using a stunt-waltzer?”

“Shut up and count.”

“I hate you.”

“One
-two-three,
one
-two-three—we all do, Your Highness—
one
-two-three…”

Alex’s dark blue eyes—so like David’s—flashed dangerously. “It occurs to me that I outrank everyone in this room,” she declared. “So I’m just about done with the tootsie torture.”

“I can kick your ass and you know it.” Christina swooped across the room with Alex. “Hey, I think I’m getting the hang of this!”

“You aren’t. Trust me. Where’s your bodyguard? Isn’t it his job to enter into dangerous situations with you?”

“The last time I danced with Kurt, I kicked him in the balls.”

“And…turn!”

“Get out!” Alex gasped. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. So he’s understandably nervous about dancing with me again.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“He knows it, too, so watch out. Once you get past the ‘I’m too sexy for my shirt’ bush-wah, he’s a pretty nice guy.”

“Better friend than lover, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“
One
-two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—focus, ladies—
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—”

It was, Christina mused, a little like gym class in hell. Certainly the ballroom was big enough, and although she didn’t know the name of the waltz that was playing, the one-two-three beat was droning right through her head. Well, she would dare much for David. Waltzes and more!

“My lady? Ah! Here you are.” Jenny hurried into the ballroom. The place was as big as a high school gym, and their voices echoed off the walls. Christina had stopped counting after half a dozen chandeliers.

As usual, Jenny was impeccably groomed and dressed in her Tuesday suit: the gray pinstripe with the white blouse, nude-colored pantyhose, black pumps. “Are you ready?”

“No. Go away. I’m busy.”

“My lady…”

“No.”

“My lady, be reasonable. Just this one time.”

“Come on, quit bugging me. There’s plenty of time.”

“I beg to differ,” Princess Alexandria said. “You’re getting married a week from tomorrow. And don’t hold me so tightly, or I’ll get my pepper spray.”

“You make it sound so damn dire. It’s just shoe shopping. Shit, I can do it online in about ten seconds.”

“But you haven’t. And now we will take care of it ourselves. Be reasonable, my lady—it’s one of my duties as a bridesmaid.”

“And mine, too,” Alexandria said cheerfully. “Kathryn’s blowing us off, though—she’s got riding lessons this afternoon.”

“What’s she riding? A Bengal tiger? Is he going to mind when she starts chucking rocks at his head?”

“An Arabian, and very funny. She’s only throwing things at you right now.”

“Oh,
very
comforting.”

“One
-two-three,
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three—”

Princess Kathryn’s reputation preceded her. She was very much King Alexander’s daughter. Except, of course, she hardly ever said a word, and tended to express herself by breaking things or throwing food. Chris felt sorry for her, a little…trapped in the middle of a rambunctious, larger-than-life family, with a to-die-for gorgeous older sister to boot…it was no wonder she expressed herself through mild violence.

But then, Christina thought, it was obvious they were all the king’s kids, one way or the other.

“She trusts our selection,” Jenny was blathering. “But we need to do it now, this morning.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re doing the tasting menu this afternoon,” Princess Alex pointed out. “And tomorrow’s booked with Dr. Pohl and the minister. And the day after, you and David are doing a coronation rehearsal.”

“Why?” she whined.

“Because you don’t want to look like a big dumb-ass up there when they plop the crown on your head, do you?”

“Oh, God help me,” she muttered. She stopped waltzing. Alex immediately sat down on the highly polished floor, took off her tennis shoes, and rubbed her feet. She was wearing white socks, and Christina noted there wasn’t a trace of blood anywhere.

“You’re interrupting waltzing lessons to go buy footgear?”

“Yes,” Jenny and Edmund said firmly.

Great. Sounded like it was going to be a real yawn-o-rama. “Fine, let’s get it over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” Alex cried. She slipped her shoes back on and jumped to her feet. “With a positive attitude like that, you can’t go wrong.”

“Listen, how come there’s a coronation? Aren’t I automatically a princess when I marry your big brother?”

“Yup. By law, anyway. But the people like to see a ceremony, something concrete. And Dad always says, when at all possible, give the people what they want.”

“
Your
dad says that?”

Alex ignored the sarcastic question. “But like I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted by a commoner, by law, the second you say ‘I do’, you’re the crown princess of Alaska.”

“Lovely.”

“Relax. It’ll be cake.”

“Sure it will.”

“You’ll be a splendid princess,” Jenny assured her. “Otherwise, His Highness would have—um—I’ll go get the car.”

“Otherwise His Highness would have tossed me out on my ass by now, huh?” Christina asked Alex, who nodded without a trace of a smile.

“Should we bring your bodyguards, or mine?”

“Mine,” Chris said firmly. “Yours all look like they’ve been embalmed.”

“They do not! They just take their jobs very seriously.”

“Sure. So they got embalmed.”

“I have the swatches right here,” Jenny said, patting her tote bag, which bulged in all directions rather alarmingly.

“What the hell is a swatch?”

“We’ll tell you,” Alex said, slipping her arm through Christina’s, “on the way.”