Page 61 of Royal Player
“Excellent.”
I can feel him staring at me as we walk, his eyes boring into the side of my face and then lower, looking his fill. He’s never seen me without my veil and modest dress. I don’t care. My mind is three steps ahead, figuring out how best to deal with him.
As soon as we arrive in the entrance hall, our butler intones, “His Majesty, King Henri.”
The assembled guests immediately bow their heads.
My mother goes to his side and whispers something. Is she working with me or against me? Security has arrived. I spot Vaughn and a few other palace guards posted against the back wall.
My father lifts a shaky hand and quickly drops it. He doesn’t want the public to see his tremors. “My loyal subjects…” He pauses, taking in the assembled group.
The room goes utterly silent. An elderly man coughs, his thin body closing in on itself. And then a little girl, maybe three, with long dark brown tangled hair wails, “I’m hungry!”
My father freezes, his eyes locked on that little girl.
Her mother shushes her, and the girl runs to my father, stopping in front of him. “Eat!” she declares.
My father stares down at her, seeming at a loss.
The girl’s mother scoops her up, apologizing profusely.
“Hungry!” the girl wails as she’s carried away.
I couldn’t have asked for a better appeal to my father. That would’ve been me at that age, only I would’ve tried to find the food myself, climbing kitchen counters if I had to.
My father turns to me in question.Will you feed the girl?
You bet.I seize the moment, announcing, “Great idea! Let’s all head to the parlor, where food will be arriving shortly, courtesy of King Henri.”
I signal for a servant to direct our guests before crossing to my father. “Well done.”
He bristles but recovers quickly, taking ownership of my plan. “A king must be sure his people are fed.”
“And sheltered.”
He sighs. “You have always been difficult.”
I ignore that. He’s conceding to them being here and that’s all that matters. I’m not sure how long I can convince him to let them stay, but hell, maybe they’ll grow on him. It must be lonely here, just him, my mother, and assorted servants rattling around this old cavernous place.
“Papa, I would like to meet with Peter in the private salon.”
His gaze warms. “I’m glad to hear it. You must have a chaperone, of course.” He looks around. “Where’s Marge?”
“I believe she went with everyone else to the parlor.”
“You cannot be alone with the man. I’ll send your mother along.”
I almost want to laugh. I can’t be alone with the man he expects me to spend my life with. It’s beyond ludicrous. “I will fetch Marge for the occasion.”
I take my leave, stopping briefly to direct Peter to the private salon on the opposite side of the entrance hall, and then go to the parlor. I find Marge assisting a servant putting out dishes of food on a long table on one side of the room. The palace’s food supply could last a month, even with the decimated garden and downed fruit trees. We have many preserved meats, fruits, and vegetables, along with jellies and sauces. There’s also a cheese larder and wine cellar.
“There you are,” Marge says. “I’ve worked out the sleeping arrangements. You must be hungry. Make sure to keep your strength up.”
I give her arm a squeeze. She can’t help mothering me. It’s been her job for so long. “I will after everyone else has had their fill. I’m not sure how much they’ve had to eat in the week since the storm hit. I was fattened up at the palace in Villroy.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’ve barely eaten since we heard news of the hurricane. You’ve lost weight.”
“No, I haven’t. Someone made me eat three times a day by feeding me himself.”My love.
