Chapter Four #2
He couldn’t work her out. She demanded he take her claims seriously, yet in the next breath talked about giving up the crown if he’d stop the dam.
Surely that proved this was a scam. How many people would give up the chance for wealth and royal privilege?
Despite his difficulties untangling his father’s more dubious arrangements, and reminding palace staff that they worked for the people as much as the King, there was no denying there were benefits to being ruler.
He entered his office, walked through to Matthias’s desk in the next room and propped his hip against the desk. ‘Any news?’
‘Nothing conclusive. Sorry.’ Matthias leaned back in his seat. ‘The Grand Duchess and her lady-in-waiting will be interviewed tomorrow and I’ve arranged for an expert to view the original documents.’
‘An expert?’
‘Someone who knows about fraudulent documents. The police and courts have used him.’
‘And the Grand Duchess is happy about that?’
‘Very happy. Which makes me wonder. If it were all a hoax…’ His troubled gaze met Benedikt’s.
‘Her only condition is that the documents be examined in her presence. And that if there’s still any doubt about them, they be transported by someone of her choosing, who will remain with them throughout the whole process. ’
Benedikt stiffened. ‘She’s implying we might do something nefarious with the papers!’
Matthias’s expression was solemn. ‘As if she doesn’t trust you.’
‘Which would make sense if her claims were true. Maybe she thinks I’m like my father.’ A nasty premonition stirred in Benedikt’s gut. ‘Any news on the car accident?’
‘Only the summary is digitised and it doesn’t say much. Accident due to reckless driving. I’ve requested the physical files. But I did track down someone who was there soon after the crash. They were nervous about speaking but eventually confirmed a significant oil spill right across the road.’
‘Which doesn’t tally with the official report.’
‘No, but there could be an explanation. We can’t jump to conclusions.’
Yet Benedikt’s thoughts turned irresistibly to the implications if this were all true. If the well-being of the nation rested on the narrow shoulders of a woman with no experience of government. Who, he’d discovered from Matthias’s digging, made a living researching plants.
How useful would botany be in the complex work of managing a government? In dragging Prinzenberg out of the shadows cast by his father and into a more equitable, prosperous future?
A shiver ran down his backbone. It wouldn’t come to that. It couldn’t.
The country needed someone with experience of government, international affairs, social issues and economics for a start. Someone to bring the nation together. Who understood the royal court and politics. Whose education and personal experience had been tailored to make them a suitable monarch.
It needed him .
Annalena paced the gravelled path through the topiary gardens, heading for the parklike grounds she’d seen from her suite.
It had been over twenty-four hours since she’d arrived at the palace and, apart from her restless hours trying to sleep, she’d only been able to relax during a couple of walks through the gardens.
Being in the open air, preferably in wilderness, had always been her go to in times of stress. At home she headed for mountains and forests when she needed to clear her head.
No chance of doing that here. The palace was an opulent prison.
Her spacious suite, stuffed to the gills with ornate antiques, was nevertheless extremely comfortable.
Nothing was too much trouble, including sumptuous meals worthy of a fine restaurant, which she’d eaten in stately solitude in her private sitting room.
Benedikt had excused himself, saying he had to work, presumably frantically trying to disprove her story.
But she was aware of eyes on her whenever she ventured from her suite. Whenever she opened her door there was an usher at the end of the hall, ready to assist. Though those ushers looked more like security staff.
To stop her leaving?
Her case had been collected from her car and brought to her suite. She’d have preferred to get it herself, to enjoy the freedom of being beyond the palace perimeter for a few minutes, but Benedikt had insisted.
Annalena wasn’t fooled. He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. He’d even suggested that instead of visiting the university today she stay close, to be available for any clarifications he required.
She could have insisted but hadn’t wanted to press him into a corner. It was easier to accede to a reasonable request than force him to reveal his true colours. That could mean armed guards barring her from leaving.
At least now you can pretend you’re a welcome guest.
Despite the tension cramping her neck and shoulders, she snickered. He probably feared she’d tell her story to a reporter. As if she wanted the world to know!
Nothing could be further from the truth. Annalena had a fascinating, satisfying career, friends, and a home she loved in Edelforst.
Coming to the capital, bearding the beast in his palatial lair, had been a desperate last resort. Not an attempt to wrest the crown from him.
Maybe if she’d been raised expecting to be Queen things would be different.
If she’d learnt about politics, government and economics, she’d have considered it.
But while her grandmother was a proud woman who hated that Annalena’s birthright had been stolen, she was a pragmatist and fiercely protective.
She’d seen what King Karl was capable of and preferred to let her granddaughter build a life for herself, safe from the threat of harm.
The bonds of love between granddaughter and grandmother were strong. That was why, when Annalena had rung last night, she’d let the old lady believe she was staying in a hotel as planned. No need to worry her with the news she’d sleep under the enemy’s roof.
Benedikt of Prinzenberg was used to command, having people obey. He was a quick thinker, powerful, and hated being crossed. Yet he wasn’t completely like his father. His dismay when she’d spoken of murder had been genuine. She didn’t fear for her life.
Yet he disturbed her in ways she couldn’t name.
Being around him was like standing before an approaching thunderstorm. Everything felt charged and weighted with anticipation.
Annalena rubbed her hands up her arms as she left the formal gardens and stepped onto the springy turf of the private royal park. Ahead, a sweep of grass curved between stands of large trees to where afternoon sunlight glittered on a small lake.
She paused, inhaling the scent of growing things, then exhaling some of her tension.
Soon he’d have to acknowledge the truth and they’d come to an agreement. Then she could leave.
She didn’t want to spend another night in his palace.
Down near the lake, they’d said.
What was she doing there, far from the palace buildings? Was this a tactic to make him come to her? To show she had the upper hand?
That would be petty and, despite the earthquake of disruption Annalena of Edelforst had caused, he didn’t think her that.
Troublesome, yes.
Worrying.
An absolute disaster, for his country and everything Benedikt was trying to do here.
Yet despite the shockwaves still reverberating through him, not all his thoughts about Annalena were negative.
Because those thoughts don’t come from your brain, but a more primitive part of your body.
Her combination of touch-me-not condescension and earnestness, not to mention a mouth created for kissing, kept distracting him. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed when she spoke about the hydroelectric project and he’d wondered what else would excite her passion. Who else.
If she knew, would she use his distraction to her advantage?
She was here to negotiate, or said she was. A savvy negotiator turned any weakness to their advantage. He needed to do the same.
Benedikt paused by the water. She was nowhere in sight but must be close. Somewhere nearby security staff were keeping a discreet eye on her. They hadn’t reported her trying to leave.
That was one positive at least. One positive out of a minefield of negatives.
He ploughed a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe how the day had unfolded. One after another, facts had been assembled and the truth he’d believed all his life distorted into something completely different.
But he didn’t have the luxury of personal feelings. He had a nation to consider. That had to be his focus.
A sound caught his attention and he headed towards it, pine needles muffling his footsteps. He heard muttering then an off-key voice softly singing the refrain from a hard-rock anthem of a decade ago.
Benedikt paused. It couldn’t be…
But he knew that voice. That husky, unmusical, but strangely beguiling voice belonged to the buttoned-up woman who threatened his country’s peace and prosperity.
It made her seem approachable. Vulnerable. Not the keen-eyed competitor ready to rip the kingdom from his hands. Nor the foe whose femininity sidetracked him.
He stepped into the forest and there she was, squatting before a large tree, phone in hand, photographing something on the ground. The singing became a periodic hum as she shifted her weight, leaning in for a better picture.
Benedikt rocked back on his feet, taking in the view. She wore a T-shirt of dark khaki and jeans that clung taut against the curves of her backside, hips and thighs.
He swallowed and shifted his weight.
He must’ve made a noise because she swung round, twisting on the balls of her feet, her long ponytail flying across her shoulder.
There she was, the woman he’d seen on her driver’s licence. Surprised but not uneasy, features alight. The set of her shoulders, the glow in her eyes and the curve of her lips told him she was happy.
Or had been until he’d appeared. He watched two tiny vertical lines appear above the bridge of her nose and her expression turn blank.
She rose in a fluid movement that spoke of fitness and agility. An instant later her phone had disappeared into a pocket and she stood, straight as a soldier on parade, facing him.
He found it unsettling.
Not that she should mask her emotions for this confrontation. But that he should mind.
Perversely, he wanted to know more about the woman who enjoyed grubbing on the forest floor and sang heavy-metal songs as they should only ever be sung in the shower. The woman who’d looked so joyful.
He’d like to know that woman.
‘You were looking for me?’
‘I didn’t think I’d see you foraging in the leaf litter.’
It wasn’t a criticism but she took it as one.
‘I was told I had the freedom of the grounds.’ She saw him taking in her appearance and pushed her shoulders back.
Unfortunately that pushed her breasts against the fitted T-shirt and Benedikt had to work to keep his attention on her face.
‘If I’d known we were meeting I’d have changed my clothes. I didn’t pack for a stay in a palace.’
Benedikt smiled but his muscles felt stiff. Not just his facial muscles. ‘That doesn’t matter. I prefer casual.’
Her eyebrows rose as she surveyed his dark suit, white shirt and silk tie.
‘I’ve come from the office. I’ve been working all day.’
Again he’d said the wrong thing, reminding her that she was filling in time instead of meeting colleagues at the university as she’d planned.
He looked past her to the red fungi she’d been photographing. Or perhaps it was the tuft of tiny white flowers beside them.
For a bizarre moment he wished he could question her about that, hear her talk about her work. He wanted to meet the light-hearted woman who found wild vegetation more fascinating than a grand baroque palace full of priceless art and heirlooms. Or, apparently, the chance to be Queen.
He wanted to engage with her without royal responsibility weighing him down.
He stifled the selfish urge. His country needed him to focus on resolving this problem, quickly!
Her gaze turned laser sharp as if she read his thoughts. Yet when she spoke she sounded wary, not eager. As if she didn’t want to hear his news. ‘You have news?’
‘I do.’ He watched her intently, trying to read any micro-expression. ‘It seems you do have grounds to claim the crown of Prinzenberg.’