CHAPTER 7
Katy
T
he enormous serpent slithered forward, but the brave princess lifted her sword and held her ground.
‘You shall not have him while I live!’ she declared boldly.
‘It matters not that he has wronged me, for I have forgiven him.’ The serpent’s tongue flicked, and he—No, Greta, you have to stay in here.
” Katy lunged after the blonde toddler, sparing a wince for the book as it thudded to the floor.
“Want Papa!” the little girl protested. Waving, she called, “Papa!”
“Papa’s on duty, Greta,” Katy reminded her. She settled her charge on her hip and walked to the door of the study. “Say hello, and then we need to leave him be.”
Greta threw herself sideways, forcing Katy to take a quick step forward and wrap her other arm around her. “Papa!”
“Hello, little one.” Otto winked at the squirming bundle in Katy’s arms. “Are you being good for Aunt Kat?” Katy grinned. She wasn’t Greta’s aunt, but that was easier than explaining to a toddler how someone could be her cousin and her father’s cousin at the same time.
“Yes!” the little girl exclaimed, kicking her legs against Katy’s sides. “Come play, Papa!”
“Sorry, little one, I can’t.” One side of his mouth tilted up before he glanced at Katy. “Thanks for doing this, Kat. I know she’s a handful.”
Katy shook her head. “Britta’s mother is sick, and Britta can’t cart a toddler around while she works, especially when she’s growing another. I’m happy to help out, just like always. It’s no different than back in Flussendorf.”
“Yes, but you’re a princess now.” As if she needed reminding. “You’re supposed to be handing your children off to nannies, not nannying other people’s children.”
“Poppycock.” She lifted her chin haughtily. “I’m a princess, so I can do whatever I want.”
“Me be princess! Do what want!” Greta cheered.
Otto laughed. “Not how it works, little one.”
Setting her hand on the door and slowly pushing it closed, Katy told Greta, “Say bye-bye for now so we can stop distracting Papa.”
“She’s distracting me,” Axel said calmly from his desk, where he had his head propped up on one hand while he stared at a stack of papers. “I’ve barely accomplished a thing this morning.”
“You were already distracted.” Katy crossed to him and bent to kiss his cheek, then swung her hip sideways when Greta reached for one of his reports. “Before Britta showed up with Greta, you were staring out the window. Now, you’re at least staring at your paperwork.”
Lifting his head, Axel held his hands out.
“’Tis true, I have done my best to appear productive that I might be allowed a break.
Is it not my turn with the little sweetheart?
” When Katy raised an eyebrow, he looked up at her with a mournful expression, but his eyes twinkled.
“You would not deny me the only bright spot in my morning, would you, fair Katrin?”
“I thought that’s what I was.”
“Yes, but you’re my normal bright spot,” he responded cheerfully. “Greta doesn’t play with us very often.”
Rolling her eyes, Katy handed over the toddler, settling herself on his desk. “Fine. I’ll read the reports to you so you can play with Otto’s daughter.”
He stood Greta on his lap, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “Aunt Katy doesn’t know how to have fun anymore. That’s what happens when you grow up.”
“Sing!” Greta cheered, clapping her little hands. “Sing, Uncle Axel!”
“But if I sing, Aunt Katy can’t read the reports to me,” he replied, his brown eyes dancing at Katy over the little girl’s head. “She won’t let me play unless I accomplish something at the same time.”
Katy sighed and lightly tapped him on the head with her handful of paper. “Go ahead. You weren’t going to listen anyway.”
“She also has no respect for royalty,” he confided to the two-year-old. “Luckily for her, I’m a very tolerant prince.”
After a bit more chatter, he launched into Greta’s favorite song, filling the study with the rich tones of his baritone voice.
Katy leaned back on her hands, a smile pulling at her lips while he danced the little girl around.
He’d been under a lot of pressure the last couple weeks; she hadn’t seen his smile very often, and the study had been much quieter without his humming and occasional soft singing.
Unfortunately, he had to leave for a meeting before Katy had her fill of his voice. He set Greta down with a dramatic sigh. “Duty calls, sweet Greta. Until next time.”
“Play more?” The little girl turned her big blue eyes on him. “Please?”
“Alas, I cannot. Perhaps when I return, but for now, I must away.” He shoved out of his chair and pressed his right fist to his chest. “But first, a kiss for luck.”
Bending, he let Greta plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek before he wrapped an arm around Katy’s waist, bringing the other hand up to wrap one of her curls around his finger. The toddler’s giggles rose from the floor as he gave his wife a more comprehensive kiss.
“You’re going to be late,” Katy chided, giving him a light shove. When he grinned and kissed her on the nose, she slipped one hand under his waistcoat, where only his thin shirt separated her from his skin, and fluttered her fingers against his side.
He jerked away with a laugh. “All right, I’m going, I’m going!”
“Me, too! Tickle me! Tickle me!” Greta cried gleefully, stretching her hands up. Katy complied, sparing a glance for her husband as he strode to the door, a smile still on his face.
Greta made him happy. A child of their own would make him even happier…if not for Katy’s foolish deal.
~
“Katy.” A hand lightly shook her shoulder. “Your Highness, it’s time to wake up.”
Katy fought the heaviness in her eyelids, dragging them halfway open. “Britta. Why are you Your Highness-ing me?”
“Because I had to touch you, and it felt disrespectful otherwise.” Britta slid back from where she’d been kneeling on the bed. “You slept through me calling you.”
“You’re married to my favorite cousin,” Katy reminded her. Sitting up, she swiped a hand across her gritty eyes. “And if you didn’t want to, you could have sent Greta up. Or is your mother feeling better?”
Smiling, the maid turned to Katy’s wardrobe and began flipping through the dresses. “Greta is playing with some of the other children this morning. Otherwise, I’m sure she would have loved that.” Her tone became overly casual as she continued, “You’ve been sleeping longer a lot lately.”
“Mm-hmm.” Something didn’t feel right. Twisting, Katy asked, “Where’s Axel?”
“He arranged last night for my husband to meet him early this morning.” Britta turned back to her with a dress over one arm and a pair of shoes in the other hand. “Shall we get you dressed?”
A vague memory surfaced of Axel telling her he planned to visit the theater.
To search for Lotti again, no doubt, since it had been a month since his last attempt.
It was no surprise after the time he had spent singing with Greta the day before.
“I hope he pays Otto extra when he makes him take on extra duties like this. You have enough to do with Greta and the little one on the way without your husband disappearing unexpectedly.”
“You needn’t worry, Katy,” Britta said with an indulgent smile. “The prince is always fair.”
Before long, Katy was clothed, styled, and on her way to breakfast after promising to watch Greta again after lunch.
Britta had needled her more about her increasing laziness, but Katy was trying to ignore it.
Late to rise wasn’t the only “late” that she was, but as she had reminded her maid, it wasn’t the first time.
She wasn’t going to bother the physician. Not yet.
“Good morning, Katrin. How are you?”
The queen’s greeting pulled Katy from her thoughts as she entered the breakfast room. “Fine, thank you. And you?”
Queen Carina peered at her. “I’m well. Are you sure you are, though? You look a little pale this morning.” Katy shrugged. Sitting straighter in her chair to look past Katy, the queen added, “And where is my son?”
“He went out with Otto this morning.” The destination of Axel’s morning forays was still known only to himself, Katy, and Otto – not even Britta was in on the secret – so she didn’t expound. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
“I thought Otto was your guard now,” King Steffan interrupted. He didn’t look upset, only curious; thankfully, the days of his unpredictable anger seemed to be behind them. Katy did not miss the king who would ruin a peasant over a drunken statement.
“Old habits, I suppose.” Not knowing how to explain without giving anything away, she left it at that and turned her attention to her food.
The meal proceeded quietly. The gentle clinking of silverware on plates provided the only background to their breakfast and her thoughts.
Since her thoughts centered around her conversation with Britta – which she wanted to forget – and her husband’s absence, she kept looking at the door, hoping that Axel would appear and provide conversation to distract her. He was usually back by now.
As she made her frequent glances, she realized that the king was sneaking glances at her as well.
She wiped a hand across her mouth. “Do I have something on my face?” she joked, raising an eyebrow at him.
King Steffan sighed and slowly turned his fork in his hand. She thought he wasn’t going to explain his behavior, but then he spoke, his voice surprisingly hesitant. “Axel keeps you informed of the discussions in his meetings, does he not, Katrin?”
Nodding, Katy replied, “He does. I don’t believe he tells me everything, but if I need to know something, he makes sure I do.”
“And what has he told you recently?”
“Recently?”
Leaning back in his chair, he clarified, “In the last month or so.”
“The last month...” She set her fork down and leaned back as well, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in thought.
“Some trouble with tariffs on exports to other kingdoms. Complaints about the tariffs on imports from other kingdoms.” She grinned, remembering Axel’s disgruntled expression while addressing a package to his cousin in Amitié.
“His inability to persuade the publisher of Stewart’s mysteries to authorize publication in Ralnor.
He never gets the chance to read them since he sends them to Marielle as soon as they arrive from Michael.
Hmm...” Several other items came to mind, and she listed them for the king.
“Nothing else?” He tapped a finger on the table, watching her with a single eye. “Nothing about Ulrich?”
Lord Ulrich again? Katy scowled as she recalled the dragon carving and Otto’s information about the man’s questionable dealings with the crown. Could this explain Axel’s mood recently? “What has he been up to now?”
Her father-in-law looked uncertain, which made Katy nervous. The way King Steffan sometimes blustered and threw his weight around, he often verged on arrogance. What would disturb his self-assurance?
“Ulrich and…some of his friends,” he began slowly, “have expressed certain concerns—”
A shout echoed in the hall, followed by pounding footsteps. King Steffan paused, looking toward the door in consternation. “What in the heavens…”
Suddenly, the door to the breakfast room swung open. A middle-aged man in guard uniform stood in the doorway, his iron grip fastened on the knob. His face was as stoic as ever, but there was a grim downturn to his mouth. He sagged a little, nostrils flared as he recovered from his run.
“Bertram? What’s wrong?” Katy gasped. Her breath caught in her throat. Was that blood on his sleeve?
“My son?” King Steffan said harshly, rising from his seat. His chair snagged on the rug and tipped over, falling to the floor with a crash.
Bertram straightened to attention. He locked eyes with Katy for a moment, then directed his attention to the king. “Your Majesty. There’s been an incident.”