Fit for a Queen

by Nicole Burnham

  Her night was spent with Royce, aboard the Donati.

  Taking advantage, Royce noted in the wee hours of Thursday morning as he nuzzled a tender spot beneath her ear.

  “At every opportunity,” she’d replied, then turned and pinned him to the bed.

  Following a romantic sunrise breakfast, they made their way to the palace. Royce rolled an elegant pearl color onto the walls while Daniela spent her morning in meetings with the public relations staff and King Eduardo’s assistant. She briefed them on the most important items to be auctioned, then covered plans for the traveling exhibition. Since the previous day’s announcement, two New York museums, one in Milan, and another in Berlin had inquired about hosting the display.

  She caught Royce between coats of paint for a quick lunch before Miroslav appeared with two junior members of the security staff to help Daniela move the auction items from closet into secure containers. Chiara Ascardi had arranged for storage in a climate-controlled room in the palace, then an armed transport to Villa Alfieri a few days prior to the auction. Daniela stayed late on Thursday, meeting with the staff members who would create the actual displays for the auction. At long last, after the sun disappeared behind the western mountains, she did a walk-through of the queen’s rooms. She lingered in the center of the closet, one hand on an empty shelf as she looked toward the row of windows. Aside from a few items Princess Isabella planned to retrieve the following week, when she returned from a trip to Egypt, the entire closet stood empty.

  “It’s surreal, isn’t it?” came a hushed voice behind her.

  Daniela smiled as Royce approached and put his hand on her shoulder. “I thought you’d returned to the boat. Your tools and tarps have been gone for hours.” She relaxed into him and brushed her lips against his knuckles, before adding, “I should have known you’d stay.”

  “I waited for the final coat of paint to dry in case anything needs a touch up. The last can of paint is on a towel beside the fireplace.”

  “You’ll replace the furniture tomorrow?”

  He murmured a confirmation. “Eduardo agreed to wait a few days before hanging the mirror and other artwork. He says the staff will handle that.”

  “Have the Roscha sisters come to make their inspection?”

  “Of course. After ten full minutes of walking around and squinting at the walls, Tetyana pronounced the color appropriate and said my work was ‘quite satisfactory.’ Olena—believe it or not—smiled.”

  She flicked a surprised look at Royce. “Smiled?”

  “Her face didn’t crack or anything.” He smoothed his hand along her shoulder, then ran it down her arm to capture her hand. “She and her sister love Eduardo as if he were a member of their family. They won’t say it, but they recognize the refurbishment for what it is.”

  “A new start.”

  “And they’re happy about it.”

  “I am, too.” She sighed and took a final look around the space. “I’m having breakfast with him in the morning. I’ll say goodbye to Miroslav, Chiara, and Samuel Barden afterward, then head to the airport. My flight’s a little after noon.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  She didn’t argue. On their way out, she paused beside the queen’s desk. The silver Montblanc pen she’d noticed on her first day lay on its surface. She held it for a moment, then placed it in the drawer, on top of the stationery. As she closed the drawer, she said, “I hope I handled everything as Queen Aletta would have wished.”

  “No one could have done better.”

  Rather than spend the night on the Donati, Royce insisted on driving Daniela to her hotel. As they slipped into the seats and fastened their belts, he said, “You need to pack. While you do that, I’ll order in dinner.”

  “You’re planning to go back to the boat, aren’t you?”

  “You need a good night’s sleep. You’ll have another long day tomorrow.”

  “Stay.” At his hesitation, she argued, “If you don’t, I’ll lie awake all night thinking of you.”

  He closed the space between them to give her a brief kiss. When his hand went to the ignition, he said, “All right, but only because I know I’ll do the same. And only if you promise to sleep.”

  She smiled, but she didn’t promise.

  The next morning, Daniela rose early to meet King Eduardo for breakfast in his private dining room. They discussed the auction book, which would be handled by the royal printers, and the best way for the editor to reach Daniela should there be questions. Despite the business focus of the breakfast, the mood was light. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making the crystal glassware sparkle, and piano music came to Daniela’s ears in snippets. Once, when she cocked her head in an attempt to pick out the tune, Eduardo tilted his chin in the direction from which the music emanated. “That is Federico’s wife, Lucrezia. She plays often for their two sons. It’s her hope they will discover the allure of classical music.”

  “You don’t sound optimistic.”

  “On a day such as this, they’d rather play in the garden. I can’t say I blame them.”

  The king seemed happy and at ease, which made Daniela hesitant to broach the topic of Queen Aletta’s custom shoes, but she forged ahead, mentioning what she’d discovered. “I wasn’t certain what to do with them. The auction doesn’t seem appropriate, but I wasn’t sure you’d want them in the exhibition, either. I left them out of the inventory and placed them in the wardrobe at the back of the queen’s closet.”

  His eyes lit at her description of the shoes. “They were a gift for our twentieth wedding anniversary. I thought it was brilliant of me to give my wife an item she could wear in public, but that held a secret only the two of us knew.”

  “They’re quite romantic.”

  “Aletta thought so, too.” His sigh was a happy one. “They can be included in the initial exhibition with a simple placard to describe them, but without a description in the printed materials or any mention in the press releases. When the collection eventually travels, I may or may not include them. I’ve reached the point where Aletta’s belongings inspire warmth and happy memories, rather than feelings of loss, but I’m not sure my children have. When I’m confident Isabella has reached that point, I’ll offer the shoes to her. She may wish to wear them on special occasions.”

  It was an intimate revelation for a monarch to make. Daniela nodded, honored by his trust.

  Throughout the meal, Samuel Barden popped into the room, as he’d insisted on serving them personally. At the end of the meal, he presented Daniela with a cardboard box tied with string. “I thought you might want a few scones for the road,” he told her as he set it on the table. “These travel well. If you enjoy them, let me know. I’m happy to share the recipe.”

  When he departed, Eduardo noted, “He rarely shares his recipes. You’ve impressed him.”

  “He impressed me. He’s a kind man, and talented, too.”

  “That he is. I appreciate all you’ve done, as well. I find myself looking forward to the auction and exhibition. They will be celebratory, rather than sad, and your work has set that tone.” He reached for the inside pocket of his suit jacket, withdrew a rectangular box, and set it beside her plate with a smile. “It would be my pleasure if you’d use this from time to time, and know that the work you did here is valued.”

  Curious, she removed the lid to reveal Queen Aletta’s silver Montblanc pen. The gift left her speechless.

  “Prince Federico was talking with Royce in the great room when he looked into Aletta’s rooms and saw you admiring it. I imagine you’ll put it to good use.”

  She thanked him, though she had to force back tears at his thoughtfulness.

  After breakfast and a promise to remain available should he need her prior to the auction, she stopped by the security office to say goodbye to Miroslav and Chiara. The discussion ended up being more emotional than Daniela had anticipated. Both Miroslav and Chiara had known and adored the late queen, and Daniela’s work had mattered
to each of them.

  “She was a good queen, and a good human being. Her charity work truly mattered to her,” Chiara said before Miroslav collected Daniela’s pass, then walked her to the employee parking lot. There, they met Royce, who’d spent the morning replacing the king’s furniture. Before she climbed into the passenger seat of Royce’s car, Miroslav surprised Daniela with a hug.

  “I have thanked you for your work for the queen,” he said. “But what you have done for King Eduardo is equally important. Queen Fabrizia is fortunate to have you.”

  The outpouring of gratitude felt out of proportion when compared to what she’d done, but she resisted the urge to say so. Instead, she thanked Miroslav for his attentiveness, and promised to find him and say hello when she returned for the auction.

  The toughest goodbye of the day was the last.

  They were halfway to the airport before either of them spoke.

  Daniela pushed past the lump in her throat to say, “The week went too fast. I don’t want it to end.”

  “I don’t want it to end, either.” Royce looked at her, and the emotion in his eyes nearly felled her. “I’ll miss you. I’ll call. I’ll text. But it won’t be the same.”

  “I can’t leave my job.”

  “Oh, you could. Any head of state would hire you in a hot minute. But you shouldn’t. You have a wonderful job with Fabrizia and you’re loyal to her, which is one of many reasons I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Tears burned her eyes. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed. She waited for him to meet her gaze again before she said. “I love you, too.” She waited a few beats before adding, “This would be infinitely easier if I discovered something wrong with you.”

  Royce’s laughter filled the car, scattering their tension to the wind. “No one’s perfect. I’m sure there’s something that would horrify you.”

  She grinned and leaned back in her seat. “Let’s see. You cheat at cards. You eat anchovies on your pizza. Or you have a secret girlfriend on the other side of the world.”

  “No, to all of those. Really, anchovies on pizza?”

  “I’m grasping at straws, I know.”

  They merged onto the road leading to the airport, then he said, “Well, I’m not the best in the world at the administrative side of my job. My billing system is half computerized, half scribbled notes. Oh, and I stole money. I lied to get it, then I lied to cover the theft.”

  She frowned, then gave a dismissive wave. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Not at my job. Before that.”

  “I still don’t believe you.”

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I told you that I moved fairly often when I was growing up. One of the schools I attended had a traditional cafeteria, the kind with sectioned plastic trays you’d scoot along a metal track, and the servers would give you a meat, a vegetable, a side, and a dessert. I’d never had that before, so I was thrilled until about the third or fourth week of school, when I discovered that another meal existed.”

  “Another meal? Sounds scandalous.”

  “Oh, it was. You could pay extra and get pizza instead. Two slices on a paper plate, and either regular or chocolate milk. My parents gave me money to cover the regular meal, and I didn’t have money of my own to make up the difference. So a couple times a week, I’d pretend that I lost some of my lunch money and friends or teachers would hand me enough to cover what I’d said I’d lost. I’d pocket it, then a few days later, I’d use it to pay the difference to buy the pizza.” He grinned at the memory. “I felt it important to wait a few days so they wouldn’t suspect.”

  “You evil thief. How old were you?”

  “Eight or nine. The cashier caught on and told my teacher, who called my parents. That evening, we had pizza for dinner and my parents asked if I’d ever had the pizza lunch at school. I thought I was too smart to have been caught and lied my tail off. I had to stay after school for a week and was grounded at home for three weeks after that. One week for lying to friends and teachers to get money, another for using the money to buy what I wasn’t supposed to, and a third for lying to my parents. On top of my regular chores, I had to clean out the garage to earn money to pay everyone back, and I had to write them all apology notes. Totally humiliating.”

  She shot him a look as he parked the car at the curb outside of the terminal. “This story is supposed to make it easier to get on that airplane?”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not for a second.”

  Police walked the length of the passenger drop-off area, urging cars to move along to make room. Royce glanced at an approaching officer, then slipped out of his seat belt and circled to the back of the car to retrieve Daniela’s suitcase.

  Before handing her the bag, he pulled her close for a kiss. When they finally separated, he said, “I’m going to miss you. Call me when you land?”

  “I will. In the meantime, beware the drunks walking along the seashore at night.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then gave her a final kiss. “I will.”

  She kept her tears in check until the plane went wheels up, then pressed a tissue to her eyes to keep from seeing the marina as the aircraft banked toward Sarcaccia.

  Chapter 30

  Royce watched, his heart pounding double time, as Daniela glided down the stairs to Via Vespri. Even from this distance, her elegant form stood out from the crowd. The presence of two police officers patrolling the base of the staircase meant there were no skateboarders performing tricks, as there often were, but the bright midday sun had enticed locals and tourists alike to enjoy the outdoors, and there were several people leaning against the side wall holding gelato cups or icy drinks as they looked toward the glittering surface of San Rimini Bay. When Daniela reached the bottom of the staircase and broke free from the crowd, he thrilled to see that she wore the same pink and white dress she’d worn the night they’d gone to dinner in Italy.

  He’d loved unzipping that dress.

  Rather than turn toward Trattoria Safina, Daniela crossed the street, then followed the sidewalk toward the park where Royce waited. He’d been so distracted by the dress that it wasn’t until she reached the park’s iron gate and flipped the latch that he considered the flat box balanced near her hip.

  When they’d talked last night, she’d mentioned that her flight would arrive in San Rimini at half past ten in the morning. “Plenty of time for us to meet for lunch, if you’re free,” she’d said. “I’m not due at Villa Alfieri to prep for the auction until two.”

  He couldn’t pick her up at the airport due to a morning meeting, but asked if she’d meet him at the park, given the weather report. She’d agreed on the condition that she could bring lunch.

  He’d laughed at the offer. “Let me guess—”

  “Nope, no guessing,” she’d said, shushing him.

  He’d expected sandwiches from their favorite shop, but as she followed the path to where he waited, catching sight of him as she neared, he aimed an inquisitive look at the box. Mischief laced her responding grin.

  When she reached him, he took the box, deposited it on a shaded bench, then wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her for a kiss. Aside from one all-too-quick weekend, when Royce had gone to Sarcaccia, they hadn’t been together in two months.

  Video chats and texts weren’t enough.

  He’d fallen asleep at night imagining his arms around her, dreaming of burying his face against the smooth skin of neck before they fell asleep. Breathing in the scent of her, then waking her with a kiss.

  Reality far outstripped his late-night fantasies.

  “I missed you,” she said.

  He set her down and gave her another kiss before meeting her gaze. “I missed you, too. More every day.” At her smile, he added, “So…pizza? On a hot day? I didn’t see that coming.”

  “After the story you told me about stealing money for pizza, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  He released her with a bark
of laughter. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that story.”

  “You want the pizza or not?”

  “Absolutely.” He indicated a brown paper bag that rested on the end of the bench where he’d been waiting for her. “I brought drinks and napkins, as requested.”

  As they ate, they talked about Daniela’s trip to Spain with Queen Fabrizia, then he told her about a job he’d completed the previous week, managing the security for the transfer of medieval art from one museum in San Rimini to another. Finally, conversation turned to their friends and families. Royce told her about taking a group of his friends out on his boat the previous weekend, then showed her photos his parents had sent that morning from their safari vacation. Daniela told him about a movie she’d seen with her friends and a weekend visit to her mother’s house.

  “She’s making progress,” Daniela said between bites of pizza. “Anyone who dared look inside her house would be horrified, but she hasn’t added anything since my last visit. Even the pantry has stayed relatively clean. She let me recycle nearly all of the old newspapers and magazines, and I didn’t see any sign of rats. At least not indoors.”

  “No more complaints from the neighbor?”

  Daniela rapped on the wooden back of the bench. “Not yet.”

  Discussion went to the auction after that. The king’s assistant had called Daniela several times as plans progressed to ensure Daniela was updated and to occasionally ask for input. Daniela explained that guests would first walk through a room displaying several items that would become the basis for the traveling exhibition. Following that, they’d enter the auction room, where the queen’s key pieces would be on display for bidders.

  “The crew’s been working for several days to ensure that the information is easy to read so foot traffic moves through the exhibition section at a good pace. It’s a challenge, given the layout of Villa Alfieri, but I think it’ll go well. Then the outdoor reception—the big event—begins at nine.”