The Indentured Queen

by Carol Moncado

  “I don’t love that he’s making us all leave for a month.” A third, younger, female voice enter the conversation.

  “You love Darius and Esther,” the Queen Mother’s voice held a slight reprimand. “The Midwestern United States are lovely this time of year.”

  Darius? The missing prince? All she’d heard was that he hadn’t been seen in ages, a year or so by now. Who was Esther?

  “Esther has to be getting big pregnant by now. Her doctor was even talking about the possibility of bed rest because of the twins.” That was the other twin sister as the voices began to trail off.

  Katrín waited a moment then emerged from her hiding spot. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone. Hurrying, she made her way the direction she thought she needed to go.

  As she did, she turned the conversation she’d heard over in her head. Prince Darius was living in the States with a woman named Esther who was expecting twins soon, but not soon enough if she might have to go on bed rest. Was Darius married to the woman? Had she ever heard of an Esther in connection with the royal family?

  Wasn’t there a Princess Esther in San Majoria? Could the two countries be expecting their first mutual heirs in centuries?

  After two wrong turns, Katrín finally made it to the sub-basement. Quick glances around corners helped her stay out of sight until she reached the narrow staircase to the sub-sub-basement.

  Staff members scurried about, though most were still upstairs dealing with the aftermath of the wedding and ball. Only a few others even lived on her hallway, and she doubted she’d see any of them.

  Katrín stopped in front of her door and wanted to cry. Her key was in her purse. The one she’d left in the room where she’d gone to get ready for the wedding ceremony. Who knew where it was at this point. Probably in Benjamin’s quarters where everyone presumed she was at this moment.

  Think!

  The day had been too long for her to take her own advice quickly, but after a moment she remembered something. One of the stones near her door was loose, and she’d hidden a key in it not long after she moved in.

  In a moment, she was in her room with the door secured behind her. The shoes were dropped unceremoniously to the floor, but she laid the cloak carefully over her desk chair.

  At least she had a hanger for the dress. Not the fancy kind of hanger, but good enough. Whoever picked the dress out hadn’t asked Katrín what she would like, but at least it was easy enough to get off. It didn’t have an impossibly long row of tiny buttons. The zipper could present a bit of a problem since the dress restricted the motion of her arms some.

  In her desk drawer, she found a thing of dental floss. After pulling out a couple of arm lengths worth, she twisted it into a tiny, mint-flavored rope. It took some contortions, but she was able to feed it through the hole in the zipper pull and tie it off. Once she unzipped it as far as she could, she let the floss-rope dangle and reached around the other way to pull it from there.

  Foregoing the much needed shower, Katrín hung the dress up as carefully as she could, threw on some sweats and declared herself ready for bed without even brushing her teeth. Tonight, that took more energy than she had.

  Once she flipped off the light, she settled under the covers of her tiny bed and, despite her exhaustion, her mind wandered.

  Had King Benjamin always planned to sleep alone on their wedding night? Or was he alone? Had he found a willing, discreet, female to share his bed?

  A tear streaked down her temple and onto the pillow.

  She didn’t want to be in Benjamin’s bed.

  She’d gone into his office expecting rejection.

  So why did it hurt so much?

  8

  “You’re late.” Mr. Bond glared at Katrín.

  She tried to look appropriately contrite, but she was too tired to care. “I’m sorry. I was up late last night.”

  “You also weren’t here yesterday.”

  “I turned in the paperwork for the day off.”

  “And it was denied.” He leaned back in his desk chair.

  It was? She hadn’t bothered to check. “I was at the wedding and the ball. As the... a guest.” She didn’t want to deal with his questions and derision if she tried to tell him she was the new queen.

  “No one had the day off yesterday except anyone who had an actual invitation to the wedding and presented it to their supervisor. You did no such thing.”

  Katrín stifled a sigh. “Fine. Add a couple months to my indenture, and we’ll call it good.”

  “I already have.” He glared again. “Get to work.”

  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about working out the couple extra months. In a year, more or less, it wouldn’t matter.

  She went into the kitchen, with its study in contrasts - modern and ancient all mixed together. The fireplace where some food was still cooked was part of the original building, but most of the stone walls had been covered with more modern, cleanable, materials. The counters, storage, and refrigeration were all twenty-first century.

  So was the dishwasher.

  She had three sinks she used to rinse and prewash some of the dishes or to wash the few that couldn’t go through the actual dishwasher. Several plastic racks were already waiting. She powered up the machine, knowing it would be several minutes before she could run the first rack through. As she waited for the water to heat up, she scrubbed the first pot.

  Someone had oatmeal for breakfast.

  Her husband? It was well-known to be a favorite of the family. At least she’d remembered to take the Queen Mother’s engagement ring off. Without a jewelry box, or a safe guarded by Knights of the Round Table, she hoped the top drawer of her small nightstand would be safe enough. No one should be in her room. No one had a key except herself and probably security. It would make sense that security would have access to all parts of the palace.

  Pot after pot. Pan after pan. Tray of drinking glasses after tray of drinking glasses.

  It never ended.

  At least she didn’t have to put most of it away.

  When she took her short lunch break, Mr. Bond informed her she would need to work two hours late to make up for being late in the morning.

  Katrín actually didn’t mind that, not too much. It gave her less time sitting in her room, and she rarely left until the last lunch or afternoon tea dish was done anyway. Supper was served out of another kitchen with its own dishwasher. She wouldn’t have to worry about working with the hot machine for the last couple hours. She’d get to do something easy.

  Like scrub grout.

  Hours later, Katrín finished the wiping down the last counter. No one else remained. If only it could be like this more often. She swiped her badge through the time clock to let the system know she was off-duty. If she hurried she’d make it to the employee dining area before they stopped serving dinner. She knew the fastest ways and as long as it was less than an hour since she’d clocked out, the cost wouldn’t be taken out of her earnings.

  She smiled at the few people she passed in the hallways, but didn’t talk to anyone. After filling a tray, she swiped her card again at the end of the counter, then found a seat by herself. She sat with a few different people from time to time, making inane chitchat with them, but had no one she’d really call a friend.

  “There you are.”

  Katrín looked up to see an acquaintance walking over. “Hi, Laurie.” Her relationship with the other woman was the closest thing Katrín had to a friend. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” The last few weeks she’d eaten quickly or chose food she could take with her.

  Laurie didn’t have a tray, but sat across from Katrín and leaned forward. “Rumor has it ‘the dishwasher’ wasn’t at work yesterday because she claims she was at the wedding.”

  Katrín pushed a bit of meat around on her plate. “True.” She wouldn’t outright lie to the closest thing she had to a friend, but she wouldn’t offer any extra information either.

  “So?” Laurie
leaned even closer. “Tell me everything.”

  Katrín shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I couldn’t see much of anything from where I was.” That was the truth. “I never got a good look at the king during the wedding.” She hadn’t looked directly at him until they were outside. “And I only got a glimpse of the bride.” In the mirror on her way to the doors. “I didn’t even get to eat at the dinner or dance at the ball.” She had eaten most of her piece of cake as she sat on the dais.

  “Still.” The grin on Laurie’s face. “That’s better than most of us who were slaving away here all day.”

  “Maybe.”

  “How did you get an invitation?”

  Very good question. “I haven’t seen them in years, but I know the bride’s family. I went to school at King Alfred the First. The new queen went there. Same age and almost the same name thing.” Almost everyone she knew in the palace thought her name was Katrina.

  “It is almost the same, isn’t it?”

  “And the same last name,” she confirmed.

  “Excuse me.”

  They both looked up to see an imposing man standing there with a tray. “Yes?” Katrín asked, trying to figure out where she knew him from.

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  She glanced around at the room that had emptied out significantly since she arrived.

  “I’d prefer not to sit alone. If I wanted to do that, I’d go back to my office in security.”

  That’s how she knew him. He’d followed them around the day before. Did he know who she was?

  “Sure.” Katrín nodded to the seat next to Laurie. “We’d love to have you join us.”

  He set his tray down then held out his hand to Laurie. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He turned to Katrín and inclined his head. “And you as well. In fact, you remind me of the wife of a... friend.”

  Katrín and the security guard both ate their dinner while Laurie chattered on about the people she’d seen the day before.

  As she pushed back from the table, the security guard did as well.

  He stared at Katrín. “Perhaps I’ll run into you ladies again sometime. It’s been a pleasure.”

  “You never told us your name.” Laurie gave him a coy smile.

  He didn’t smile back. “Thor. I’m widowed with three sons and a member of the palace security team, which precludes me from having any sort of relationship with anyone employed by the palace.” He nodded at both of them. “But pleasant conversation is always nice over dinner.”

  Thor waited for Katrín to go first. She put her dishes away, grateful she wouldn’t be the one washing them.

  “I’ll see you soon.” Thor’s voice caused her to turn. “In fact, I believe I’ll take most of my meals down here from now on.”

  Katrín gave him a wobbly smile. “I only eat dinner here. Breakfast and lunch are whatever I can grab real quick in the kitchen.

  He didn’t frown, but she sensed he wanted to. “Very well. Then I will see you at dinner.” He inclined his head again. “Until tomorrow, ma’am.”

  She knew he was waiting for her to walk away, so she did. He wasn’t going to formally acknowledge who she was, but he knew, and had been sent to make sure she was okay.

  The only question that remained... who sent him?

  Benjamin glared at anyone or anything in his way. He had been in the middle of an intense conversation with Queen Christiana of Ravenzario regarding trade between the two countries when Chamberlain interrupted him, despite Benjamin’s instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed.

  All his private secretary would say was that his presence was required immediately in the security office.

  He hurried down three flights of stairs and stalked through another corridor. The security official on duty outside the office stood, saluted and pressed the buzzer to unlock the door. Benjamin gave him a half-nod as he twisted the knob. He didn’t speak to the deputy head of security but just glared.

  “We’re sorry to bother you, sir, but...” The man glared back.

  “Not sorry enough to keep from bothering me,” Benjamin snapped. “I was in the middle of a very important phone summit and left instructions not to be disturbed. What was so urgent that those instructions were disregarded?”

  The deputy - was his name Thor? - nodded his head toward the wall behind Benjamin. “She was found in the family’s portion of the palace, sir. She says she’s your wife.”

  Benjamin turned to see Katrín sitting there, leaning forward with her arms twisted behind her back. “She is my wife.” Such as their relationship was. Technically, the truth.

  The look on the Thor’s face came close to another glare and not the surprise Benjamin expected. He removed Katrín from the handcuffs. “My apologies, ma’am, sir. Her name is not on the list of those allowed to be in the private portions of the building, nor is her fingerprint on record.”

  Why hadn’t Benjamin thought of that? Or more accurately, why hadn’t Chamberlain reminded him? Wasn’t that part of his job? “See that it’s taken care of.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thor returned to the desk. “Ma’am, if you could come over here?”

  Katrín glared at Benjamin, then rubbed her wrists as she stood.

  What did he do?

  A minute later, she was in the system as able to access all portions of the palace, save personal areas prohibited to anyone without invitation, such as the family’s individual private quarters. No one entered his room without his permission, and he was the only one allowed to enter any portion of the palace without an invitation from the resident or a security reason.

  Once back in the hall and far enough away from the officer stationed outside, he asked a question of the woman walking at his side. “Why were you in that portion of the palace unaccompanied?”

  “Since half of my stuff disappeared out of my room, and since I am, technically, your wife, I thought I would come find you and ask where it all went. I was told you weren’t in your office. The next logical choice was your quarters. So I went to your quarters. Or tried to. I was arrested - handcuffed - before I got there. So your security works.”

  Even Benjamin, with his relative inexperience with women outside his family, could read between the lines of snark. “That’s good to know.”

  “You’d think they’d know not to arrest your wife.”

  “You weren’t actually arrested.” He knew that wasn’t the point.

  “Detained. Handcuffed. Whatever.” She stopped next to a narrow staircase. “I don’t expect to actually be your wife, or live in the opulence you and your family do. I do expect to be consulted before my belongings are taken out of my room and disposed of.”

  Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and went down the winding stairs. Benjamin bit back a groan and followed her. Had he ever been down this far? Did he even know there was a basement below the subbasement?

  The sub-subbasement hallway was narrow, though not too narrow. “Katrín...”

  She didn’t even slow. Not until she reached a door near the end of the hall. The key she pulled out of her pocket went into the lock but wouldn’t turn.

  “Seriously?” she muttered before glaring at him. “Would you tell your goons to let me in my room?”

  “I don’t have goons, and that’s not your room anymore.” Though he was suddenly curious to see it. To that end, he pulled his own set of keys out of his pocket. He rarely carried them, but today he’d grabbed them when he put on his signet ring. “This should be a master key.” He fit it in the lock and it turned easily.

  She glared, though there wasn’t quite as much animosity behind the look. “Do you mind?”

  Benjamin leaned against the wall opposite her door. “I’ll wait.”

  “I’m not planning to leave anytime soon. My shift in the kitchen ended early today. It’s my half-day off.”

  “Half-day?” Was that a thing?

  “I get two half-days off a month.” She pushed the door open.

  �
�How many full days?”

  “None.”

  Benjamin frowned, but didn’t say anything as she walked into her room. He didn’t follow her in but did move to lean against the door frame. It took half a second to completely sweep the room and categorize its contents.

  A small bed, barely worth the name, stood bare in one corner next to a small side table. A desk and chair along with a narrow dresser lined the opposite wall.

  Katrín turned in a circle. “Where’s the rest of my stuff? Most of it was still here earlier.” She opened a door he didn’t think he could fit through. “Even my toothbrush is gone.”

  “That’s because it isn’t your room anymore.” Chamberlain had done his order-disguised-as-a-request-or-suggestion thing and encouraged Benjamin to move her to the consort’s quarters as people would begin talking soon if she wasn’t seen in the area.

  Something besides anger flashed out of her eyes, but Benjamin couldn’t tell what it was. “Did you bother to ask me if I wanted to move? Or at least tell me ahead of time?”

  Benjamin didn't reply. As king, his decisions were rarely questioned by others.

  “Where am I going to be living?” The resigned set of Katrín’s shoulders told him she’d come to grips with the thought of moving to another part of the palace.

  “The consort’s quarters.”

  “I suppose that's in part of the palace I'm allowed to roam now?”

  “Next to my quarters,” he confirmed.

  “Ah.” The knowing nod of her head annoyed him somehow. “To make conjugal visits easier. Couldn't have the queen too far away when the king wanted a visit.”

  “I suppose.” He moved out of the way as she closed the door behind her. For once, he waited for someone else to precede him. As he started to follow Katrín, he glanced back at the door. It finally hit him what bothered him most about the room besides its postage stamp size.

  There was no window.

  9

  It was all Katrín could do to control her emotions as she actually walked in front of King Benjamin toward the family’s living quarters - a place she never expected to visit much less live, even temporarily.