The Queen

Chapter Three

He gazed out the window at the familiar gardens below. They suited the palace well, allowing for privacy when needed and an excellent thinking spot.

Gazing at the empty chair beside him, he sighed. Victoria might have been there. He shook his head, no, she wouldn't. During all the years they were married she had never once sat with him in the evening. They were never together in the first place, he had to remind himself. Not really anyway.

He had tried once, but he had grown tired of trying. None of his money, connections, influence, or power had been able to stop the gap that had always laid between them.

Worst of all, they hadn't been in love at all. Not even in the beginning. Arranged marriages have a way of being like that.

Laying his head on the back of his chair he sighed and sat there wishing.

Wishing he could rewind the clock and do things completely differently. Wishing he could have married a woman of his own choosing rather than be forced to marry for a position. Wishing he had not voiced his frustrations to his Prime Minister.

Confiding in Henry had been his critical mistake. One that had led to his late-night wine drinking.

Lots of wine and women.

But that was behind him now and playing the field was starting to lose its allure. There was no need to ponder over such misguided advice. He was a grown man and he had made his own horrible decisions. Decisions that, though inevitable, led to his divorce.

A firm knock on his door shook him from his thoughts. Turning in his chair, just as a guard entered the room. "Your Majesty, the Prime Minister has sent word that all of the ladies have arrived in Gardonia and are on their way to the palace."

Giving only a nod in response, he wondered to himself whether or not she was with them...he hoped she was. Though he had not received word from Maxwell since he had departed Siena yesterday afternoon. That was quite unlike Maxwell not to keep in touch.

Perhaps she had said no and Maxwell hadn't had the heart to tell him. He couldn't blame her really. He wasn't sure he would come if he was in her place. And why would she come? She owed him nothing. She didn't even know him.

* * * *

Perched on the edge of a standard-issue waiting room chair of the airport lobby, Katie clenched the handle of her suitcase between her fingers, crossed her legs, and jiggled her foot. She was nervous.

The whole idea of what she was about to do brought with it more fears than she could have dreamed. But speaking those fears out loud wouldn't help her cause any. She needed them to know she was serious about her role — whatever role she had or might have — she wanted to do it well and she intended to make sure they knew it.

Maxwell stepped towards her and extended his hand for her luggage, "Are you ready?" He asked, giving her an understanding smile that claimed her nerves. She rose, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. Where's Mark?"

He gestured toward the café just a few yards away, "He said he had to get at least one good cup of coffee before he starts his new job. Shall I get you one as well?"

She smiled, shook her head, and placed a hand on his upper arm, "No, I'm alright. Thank you for getting him a job at the palace...I don't think I could have done this without him."

Maxwell nodded, "I understand. It was no trouble. His career with the police more than qualified him. Though I'm afraid I couldn't get him a position near you for obvious reasons, but I'm sure that you will still be able to see him quite often since he will be the head guard at the main gate."