NOAH
TO MY CREDIT, I somehow managed to wait until I was back downstairs before completely melting down.
“For the love of…” I muttered, running a hand over my face as if I could block out the entire last twenty minutes like they’d never happened.
Actually, if I could just rewind to the moment I’d first arrived at the palace, that would be even better. It had been nothing but a series of mistakes since I got here.
I was good at my job. No—I was great. That was the whole reason I’d been sent to the palace.
I always played my part perfectly, always followed directions, never entered the wrong room, never got charmed by princes pretending to be kings, and definitely never casually chatted with the real king like we were friends catching up over tea.
Groaning, I braced a hand on the wall and tried to get my bearings.
This was just great. A spectacular start to my royal service.
“Are you feeling okay, or did Mrs. Stuart finally hit you with something?”
I lifted my head to see Violet several feet away, a feather duster in her hand and curiosity written all over her face.
“I’m considering fleeing the country,” I said.
“Oh, good. Nothing serious, then.” She grinned, but at the sound of her name being called from somewhere down the hall, it dropped and she nodded toward a narrow alcove behind me. “Come on. You’ve got about three minutes before Mrs. Hutcheon sends out a search party.”
I followed her into the alcove, which was barely large enough for the two of us, and she turned to me, her eyes bright.
“Well?” she said.
“Are you offering to help me escape?”
“First I need to know why you want to run away, and why you look so pale after leaving His Majesty’s chambers. What happened?”
“What didn’t happen?”
“Oh, even better.”
“It’s not better, trust me.”
“Maybe not for you, but for me it is.” Her teasing smile grew, but at the sound of footsteps nearby, she carefully peeked out into the hallway. “Okay, hurry and tell me.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “He asked me a question and I gave a completely wrong answer.”
“Okay.”
I opened my eyes and pinned them on her. “Oh, I’m not done. I asked him how he was—”
She gave a soft gasp. “Nooo, you should never ask His Majesty how he is.”
“Well, someone should.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and Violet’s expression softened a bit.
“Oh dear. You’re going to be a problem.”
I scoffed. “I’m aware. His Majesty made that clear.”
“What did he say?”
“That I was, and I quote, ‘hired to be helpful, not polite.’”
Violet winced. “That does sound like him.”
“And then I complimented his tie.” She didn’t have to say anything—the thin white line of her lips pressed together told me what she thought about that. “And then when he asked me a question about my last household, I mentioned already telling him the other night, and that was the big mistake.”
Her amused smile vanished. “Oh.”
“What do you mean, oh? Do you know something you’re not telling me? Maybe about the interview with the man I thought was the king but was apparently not the king?”
Violet averted her eyes, suddenly very interested in dusting the corners of the alcove.
“Violet? Did you know?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie.”
She hesitated. “Maybe I suspected. But only because Charlie had mentioned overhearing Mr. Baxter whispering something about a switch-up to Mrs. Hutcheon, and then he said His Majesty was busy in meetings during the time you had your interview.”
“Hold on, Mr. Baxter knew?”
“Oh, he always knows. He doesn’t approve, but he knows.”
I pushed away from the wall. “Why didn’t he say anything? How is this normal?”
“He’s the best at keeping secrets.” She shrugged. “And no, of course nothing here is normal. It’s royal.”
I sighed, feeling anxious in my body and the small confines of the alcove. I started to run a hand through my hair, but then remembered my place and the fact it needed to look perfectly presentable, and dropped my hand. “He was furious.”
“His Majesty?”
“No, Mrs. Stuart. Yes, His Majesty.”
“It’ll be okay. He’s used to Prince Gabriel’s pranks.”
“Uh, he threatened to remove me.”
“And somehow you’re still here.” She gave me a small smile. “Listen, all you need to know is if he smiles, it’s the prince, and if he scowls, it’s the king.”
“You could’ve mentioned that earlier.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Violet!” Mrs. Hutcheon’s voice rang down the hall, louder this time.
Violet glanced out into the hallway then turned back to me. “Keep your head down and do the work and you’ll be fine. His Majesty likes competence above all. I’ll be back to help you with turndown tonight.”
Competence. Right. I possessed that…somewhere.
“Thanks, Violet.”
“No problem.” She started to leave, but then looked over her shoulder and added, “Don’t take the icy reception personally. I don’t think he knows how else to be.”
Apparently so, and here I’d been thinking maybe it was just for show.
Nope.
It seemed I’d need to get used to being cold. Maybe I’d invest in some long johns so I didn’t get hypothermia from the arctic blast of his personality. The thought made me grin.
“There you go,” Violet said, pointing her duster at me. “Whatever you’re thinking about right now, keep it on hand for those moments he—”
“Tries to glare me to death.”
“Exactly. See, you’re already learning. By the end of the week you’ll feel like you’ve been here for years.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best way to sell this position.”
“Okay, how about this? You’ve just stepped into the position of the King of Valoria’s personal footman.
A position that will bring prestige to your family, and provide for them for years to come.
It’s one of the most important positions in this household.
” She leaned in and whispered, “some might even argue the most.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right.”
“Something you’ll discover happens more often than not. The king is going to come to rely on you, even trust you. He just needs time to…thaw out.”
She grinned, and I shook my head. “If you say so.”
“I do. Have some faith in yourself, Mr. Bennett.”
“Thanks again, Violet.”
She winked and then hurried out into the hall, and as she disappeared in the direction of the kitchens, I straightened my shoulders and tried to remind myself that this wasn’t my first position in a household of this caliber.
Granted, I’d never worked for the actual king before, but how different could it be from the duke?
It wasn’t like we’d been friendly. I’d done my job, performed my duties, and gone on my way.
Though that initial meeting with Prince Gabriel had sparked some kind of hope inside me that maybe this wouldn’t be such a transactional arrangement, but a position that could grow into one where respect was earned and given, where a friendship of sorts could be had.
After all, if a personal footman performed admirably, their job could be one that lasted years—sometimes the entirety of the king’s reign.
The idea of a friendly relationship had been a welcome thought, considering the new king’s youth. But after meeting him, I couldn’t help but think just how many years he would, in fact, be the leader of the country.
At least forty, maybe more. Good God. That was worse than some life sentences.
No. I couldn’t think like that. Wouldn’t.
This job was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and if I could adapt to the Duke of Ashford, I sure as hell wasn’t about to be run off because of one horrifying—but completely not my fault—meeting with my new boss.
How was I supposed to know his brother had decided to play some prank on him by interviewing me? The best thing I could do was forget about it, move on, and act like it had never happened.
Yes. That’s what I was going to do. I wasn’t about to let one little mistake define who I was in King Valemont’s eyes. I was going to pull myself together, get my head on straight, and perform the duties expected of me.
Now I just needed to find out what time his meetings were going to be over tonight. The last thing I wanted to be was late. I refused to give him any more reason to question my abilities.
I was going to be so damn good at my job that King Nicholas Valemont wouldn’t know what to do without me.
“WE HAVE ABOUT ten minutes until he’s due,” Violet said from over by the thick curtains she was untying.
It was just about to turn eleven o’clock, and I hadn’t seen or heard from the king since the afternoon. Fine by me. I was still trying to remind myself I wasn’t completely incompetent, and I was doing a pretty good job of it too.
After going over his schedule, I’d arrived at his quarters with enough time to lay out his suit for tomorrow, polish his shoes, and place his medals out on the dresser for the ceremony he was attending at noon.
Violet then got busy showing me how to ready the room to his specifications. First thing: a fire in the hearth. Then she turned down the bed and drew the curtains.
“He likes the light by his bed left on,” she said as she walked over to the right side of the enormous, canopied bed. “The rest can be turned off.”
I nodded as she moved around the room with quick precision, noting every single task she performed. This would eventually fall to me, but she’d been assigned to help me for the first couple of days to get it right.
“He likes a glass of scotch before bed. Make sure it’s on the bedside table, along with his glasses and book.”
“Book?”
She hunted around the room, and then said, “Ah, there it is.” She rushed over to the huge desk by the window she’d just covered. “Idylls of the King.”
I frowned as she moved back to the right side of the bed.
“He likes to read,” she said.
“Poetry?”
She shrugged and looked back at the book. “Is that what this is?”
“Yes. Not exactly what I pictured he’d do in bed.”
Her head snapped up. “Oh? And what did you picture him doing in bed?”
My cheeks instantly heated as I realized exactly how that sounded. “I didn’t mean— I…”
“Yes…?”
“Are you sure he won’t get too hot in here with that fire?”