Page 13 of The Rejected King
The first personEmree wanted to tell about her new position as Promenade Director was Portlend. She just needed to find him. She walked down the gravel trail to the soldier’s quarters behind the castle. With each step, small pebbles crunched beneath her feet, flipping into her shoes and making it difficult to walk, but Emree didn’t notice. Her attention was on the job interview. Huge boulders could be falling from the sky, and she’d probably still be thinking about the interview with the king. There was a moment when Emree had sworn the queen mother was about to say that the position had already been filled, but King Davin had interrupted her. She wondered why. Had Emree gotten the job purely based on the incident at the Morreck Inn? Were her kissing skillsthatgood? She shook her head. No, she deserved the job on her merits alone, and she planned on proving that to everyone, especially the king.
Green fields stretched out in front of her, filled with young men practicing with swords. Emree quickly scanned the faces, looking for Portlend, but the men seemed too young. She headed for the large stone building in the center, hoping there would be someone inside that knew Portlend and could help her find him.
A young man with long, straggly hair and dressed in a blue Enderlin uniform stood behind a desk in the foyer. Emree had seen Portlend wear that exact outfit a hundred times before when he came home to Kenmare, but now, it really sank in. Portlend was a member of the king’s guard. A burst of pride filled her chest.
“Can I help you?” asked the young man behind the desk.
Emree wanted to reach out and introduce herself as the new Promenade Director, but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to seem overly excited or braggy. So she stuck to the original plan.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find Portlend Ricks.”
The young man didn’t even hesitate with his response. “Officer Ricks is out teaching survival training in the mountains.”
Officer Ricks? Teaching?
Emree would have to get used to this version of Portlend, the version where he was a respected officer in the king’s guard and not the goofy boy she’d known since she was little.
“Their group should be back tomorrow,” the young man said.
“Oh.” Emree’s smile faltered. She had hoped to see him tonight, but then, it had been so long since they had seen each other, what was one more day?
“Would you like to leave him a message?”
A message? What would Emree even say?
Hi, remember me? Your long, lost girlfriend?
Or maybe she could say something clever likeSurprise! I live in New Montana now, so there’s really no reason why we can’t get married.
None of those messages seemed quite right. Emree shook her head then turned on her heels. She and Portlend would have to be reunited some other time.
Emree
Emree waited inside the king’s office, clutching the large folder Queen Arillia had given her at the interview two days ago. Inside the folder were all the details about the Promenade that had already been decided, as well as the latest headlines from the newswriters. She had spent the last two days going over the event’s details and planning out the itinerary. She was ready to prove she was qualified for the job despite her young age. There was a lot of pressure on her. Everyone would be watching, waiting for her to make a mistake. But she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Failure was not an option. Her future role at the castle depended on her success. And so did the king. Today’s newswriter headline had said it all.
CAN THE PROMENADE SAVE KING DAVIN’S REPUTATION? CRITICS SAY IT’S DOUBTFUL
The king’s reputation needed Emree, and she planned to prove to everyone just how valuable she was. When she got through with this event, they would be begging her to work at the castle permanently.
Her eyes glanced around the king’s office. She noted how masculine everything felt, from the wood wainscoting and taupe colored walls to the matching cedar desk and leather chairs. Against the wall, in between a large set of windows, a tall bookcase caught Emree’s eye. She wondered what type of books the king kept in his private library. She glanced over the books. She could tell by their age and tattered covers that they were mostly pre-Desolation titles. His collection was much more impressive than her own. That came with being a king, she supposed. He had a lot more access to rare books.
Emree’s reality hit her.
I’m in the king of Enderlin’s office.
Her lips pulled into a small smile as pride filled her up, but it was quickly replaced by a buzz of nerves. She hadn’t seen the king since the interview. Would they be able to have a working relationship? Emree was a professional and wouldn’t let what happened at the Morreck Inn affect her work. In fact, from now on, she would pretend that it had never happened. If the king brought it up again, she would ignore him. Emree was confident she could handle the king and whatever he brought her way.
Then the king walked into the room, and all of her confidence left. He wore black fitted slacks and a red, short-sleeved, collared shirt that accentuated the outline of his chest—a chest she was way too familiar with. She could almost feel his pectoralis muscles under her unconscious hand. Had she rubbed the king’s chest at the Morreck Inn? The memory came back, and yes...yes, she had. She wanted to sink her face into her hand and hide behind it forever. Instead, she masked her horror, determined to move on from her past mistakes.
“Miss Dutson.” The king nodded at her, jostling her out of her daydream. He continued past her to his desk. “Have you met Officer Millar?”
“No, not yet.” Emree glanced at the doorway where the guard stood. Millar had long, light blonde hair. He was stocky and thick with rippling muscles. His arm alone was the width of Emree’s waist, making him exactly what she would want from a guard protecting them.
“Millar is my personal guard,” the king said, looking at the broad man.
Millar smiled at Emree; he seemed too young to be the king’s personal guard. He wasn’t as young as the king, but he couldn’t be more than ten years his senior.
The king continued, “You two will be seeing a lot of each other. Millar accompanies me everywhere.”
