Page 23 of Crowned For The King's Secret

Strange, after his distance, how he wanted to spend time with them now.

‘Don’t you have meetings? Busy, kingly type of work to do?’

‘Nothing’s more important than this,’ he said as they walked together through to the cool stillness of the cloister and then the palace. Those words warmed her almost as well as the sunshine outside. Though Nic was probably the one who held the importance, not her. They arrived at the doors of the kitchen. She reached out her hand to push through.

‘I’d like you to have dinner with me tonight,’ he said.

She stopped, pulled her hand back. Heart beating a little faster than she would have liked.

‘Why?’

‘There are things we need to discuss. Come after Nic’s gone to sleep. Isadora can look after him while you’re gone.’

So far she’d not left Nic alone with Dora. Mainly, she just tried to teach Nic Italian, and was a bit of company for Vic when she became lonely.

‘I’m not—’

Nic grizzled again. He’d be getting hungry. ‘Okay, little man.’

She briefly knocked, then pushed through the double doors and walked inside ahead of Sandro. The staff greeted her like old friends, full of warmth for her as a few asked whether she’d had success in the garden. Even the chef, who had terrified her at first because he’d made crystal-clear this room was his domain. Then they noticed Sandro, and the silence was striking. Everything stopped, the same as those kittens in the garden, except his staff had nowhere to run. Victoria turned to look at him as everyone curtseyed, bowed. There was a tightness around his eyes, his mouth, as if he was uncomfortable with the attention.

He held up his hand in a stop motion, and everyone did indeed stop. ‘There’s no need. We’ve come to prepare some formula for Nicolai.’

The staff began to bustle about, getting everything ready whilst Sandro stood in the middle of the room holding Nic, looking uncomfortable and out of place.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘We can manage. I’m sure you have better things to do than wait on us.’

‘There’s no higher privilege,’ said the chef.

‘Your lunch was magnificent as usual,’ Sandro replied. ‘You’re wasted on me.’

‘Give me a proper state dinner, Your Majesty.Anydinner. Then you’ll see it’s no waste.’

Sandro laughed, as did the rest of the staff. That sound rumbled through her, warm. Genuine. ‘As soon as I can, I’ll grant your wish.’

Nic began to complain again.

‘And as soon as I can,’ she said, as an apprentice handed her the sippy cup on a little silver tray that she’d never seen before, but no doubt was for Sandro’s benefit, ‘I have to give Nic his milk or there will be tears.’

‘For dinner I’ve made him something special, what mynonnamade me as abambino.’

‘Thank you. I’m sure he’ll love it.’ With more thanks and smiles they left the kitchen. She turned to Sandro. ‘He really is an incredible cook.’

‘He ran his own starred restaurant before my cousin ate there and decided he wanted that food cooked for him each day, so compelled Michel to work for him on threat of imprisonment.’

Victoria gasped.‘That’s terrible.’

‘That’s typical of my cousin.’ His eyes darkened, to the colour of a stormy sea. She knew it was another warning, to never forget the danger he claimed she was in.

‘Yet Michel is still here.’

‘I offered him his freedom, offered to reinstate his restaurant. He refused. I’ve never understood why.’

His look of confusion seemed genuine enough. Yet she couldn’t understand why he didn’t realise that one of his subjects might want to work for the real King. The King they’d waited for so long to return. It was a tiny vulnerability that made her pause. She reached out for Nic and Sandro hesitated, then handed him over.

‘I have to put Nicci down for his sleep soon, but... I’ll have dinner with you.’

Any fleeting uncertainty on his face melted away to be replaced by something harder, more determined.

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