Page 7 of Furever Loyal
“Miss Menard, thank you for coming to see me so quickly.”
Her focus snapped back to the female sitting in the center of the raised dais at the back of the room.
“My Queen,” she stumbled, affecting an awkward curtsy and bow of her head all at the same time, painfully aware of the number of eyes on her.
How badly did I just flub that, I wonder?
She blamed it on her host. At no point had Haley been aware she was going to be standing in front of an audience of what sounded like hundreds. The only lights focused on the center of the room, but enough glow made it to the edges, combined with the soft sounds of breathing and shuffling feet to let her know the sides were packed with people.
“You have the information I requested?”
Was she really going to be asked to present it to everyone like this? In the middle of the…the…just call it what it is, it’s a bloody Throne Room.
It was the weirdest setup of a company boardroom that she’d ever experienced. Walking inside after pulling up at the front door—no, something as large as what she’d come through had to be called anentry, too grand to be anything else—had been intimidating enough. Though she’d known the complex was massive, seeing it in person hadn’t done a thing to soothe her nerves.
It’s a bloody palace, is what it is!
“I do. Though I think it would be best if perhaps we met in private.”
Haley’s eyes were drawn at last to the floor in front of the Queen, where a singular male stood. His broad chest rose and fell, stretching the thin cotton of his shirt to the breaking point with every breath. A few beads of sweat matted down the steely gray hair on the sides of his head.
For a moment, she forgot to think as his hardened blue eyes met her gaze and held it, refusing to let go, like the last few rays of light holding onto the sky as the sun set below the horizon. This was a man used to being in charge, to having his way. What was he doing there? Had she interrupted something?
“Very well. Everyone, if you would please excuse us. Miss Menard and I have business to conduct.” The Queen nodded in passing at the man standing in front of her. “That includes you too. We’ll finish this later.”
“I am sorry,” Haley said, speaking up, feeling odd doing so without being addressed. “I can come back. I was unaware I was going to be intruding when I insisted to the guard I be let in.”
Kaelyn chuckled as a flow of people exited the chamber behind Haley. All of them were huge, giants like the man on the floor in front of her. Even some of the women were big, many of them packed with muscle as well, though here and there she saw ones that more resembled a normal human.
Did you have to be a fitness fanatic to be hired by this company?
“Come, approach,” the Queen said as the others sitting in chairs on either side of her got up and left as well.
She swallowed nervously but did as she was told. It felt like a scene out of a movie, a historical drama of some sort. The commoner approaches the Queen and tells a tale of treason and plotting, and in the end, someone would shout “Off with their head!”
Haley snorted quietly, attempting to ground herself in reality.
This was precisely when the man bent down and snatched something up from the ground that she hadn’t noticed earlier. He moved quickly, shielding it from her view, but not before she caught a flash of metal stained with red. It was a dagger, she realized.
And it had blood on it.
What the hell have I just walked into?
She came to a halt several steps away from the throne, for lack of a better word, her attention torn away from the Queen as the giant of a man passed her by. His head turned as he walked, keeping his vision locked on her.
She could see the sharp lines of his chin, visible under the weathered but freshly-shaven skin of his cheeks and jaw. This was a man who often kept his beard longer. Haley had no idea how she knew, but something about the way being clean shaven didn’t suit him made it obvious. Her mind conjured up a short, neatly-trimmed beard, and immediately decided it worked better.
“Hi,” he said quietly, not slowing.
“Hey,” she said back, hating how breathless and scared she sounded.
His lip quirked in what might have been a tiny smile, and then he was gone, taking his leg-sized biceps and what she imagined was a taut posterior out the door.
The heavy steel panels came together with aboom. The room was sealed now, leaving only her, the Queen and four—no, six—guards, she corrected. She noted the four around the throne and two more in the shadows behind it.
And probably others I’m not aware of. She really does take this whole Queen business to the maximum.
The swords and armor had to be ceremonial, but the grim visages on each of the guards had her wondering about the truth of that thought. They certainly screamedbodyguardto her, and they wore the armor with ease.
