Chapter Nineteen
I was dreaming of birds.
Woodpeckers, to be precise. This one, a downy woodpecker that I knew well as he had riddled the beams of my old shed trying to get at the carpenter bee larva, seemed to be incredibly persistent.
So much so that the steady tap-tap-tap-tap pulled me from my sleep enough to realize that I was dreaming of birds.
Face smushed into a pillow, I mumbled at the red-headed devil to stop pecking my shed.
The rapping ceased. For a second. Then, a male voice took its place.
“Mr. Baxter, are you awake, sir?” The man at the door was German, maybe?
Why was there a German man at my…oh yes, I wasn’t home at all.
I was in ?stermon. Moving to my back, I rubbed at my eyes to get them to open.
The room was dark. I sat up, my head filled with cotton candy, and looked around with gummy eyes.
Yep, I was sitting in the middle of a huge bed in the poshest bedroom I had ever slept in.
“Sir? I’ve been instructed to come assist you to ensure you are ready for luncheon with Her Majesty in an hour? ”
Oh crap. I fumbled about for my phone lying face down on a sturdy dark wood nightstand.
When did I empty my pockets? A tiny flash of a memory of waking up, dumping my shit on the nightstand, then going to pee came to me.
That would explain why I had shucked my pants somewhere but was still in my sweater.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be down in time,” I called back while kicking off the covers. My pants went flying to the floor. Oh, and I now saw that I had removed one sock. Why just one? Who knows?
“If you would wish it, I can assist you? My name is Rolph, and I am a personal assistant to Prince Anders, one of two, but he has instructed me to aid you during your visit.”
Oh. That was nice. Not that I needed help, but if Anders had given the man an order, then I should accept the offer gratefully.
“Wonderful, yes, come in, please.” I hurried to pull the covers back over my legs to my chest as the door opened silently. A tall man in a dark suit with silver hair slid in. “Hello, yes, this is quite nice.”
“Good morning, Mr. Baxter. Shall I open the drapes?”
“Yes, thanks.” I sat there like a dunce as Rolph stepped lively to the windows to yank the heavy drapes open.
The room was bathed in the bright winter sun.
I blinked a few times and stared out at the view.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, uncaring if Rolph saw me in my boxers and one sock, I had to get a closer look.
I fumbled to the largest of the three windows to gawk at the snowcapped mountain touching the clear blue sky. “How beautiful.”
“Yes, sir, it is quite impressive.” I looked at Rolph securing a gold tieback around one of the panels of drapery.
“?stermon was formed tens of thousands of years ago as a volcanic eruption.” He was an older man, I’d guess late fifties, very dignified, with a thin silver mustache to match his gray hair.
His suit was navy, with a white shirt, a blue tie, and shoes so shiny they could blind a person.
And here I stood with my hair on end in a pair of SpongeBob boxers and one sock.
“When it was first colonized by Norsemen, they built a small keep atop the craggy slopes and called it Dragons Perch, in part I’m sure to instill fear into any who might dare to sail too close, and in deference to the ice dragons that roamed the cold waters of the North Sea. ”
“It’s dormant, though, yes?” He nodded and pattered over to an armoire to find a robe. Not mine but a thick white robe with a fat sash. “Oh, thank you but that’s not mine.”
“Prince Anders requested your rooms be filled with all the amenities.” He held the robe out, so I slid my arms into it and tied it around my middle.
“As to your question, yes, it has been dormant for centuries. The keep that originally sat so far above where the royal house sits now slid down into the sea and was rebuilt at the base of the mountain by King Torbjorn. The island has seen many visitors and quite a few invaders, which is why our people are such a fine mix of our nearby neighbors. Would you like me to call for some coffee while you shower and dress?”
Coffee did sound good. “Yes, thanks, cream and sugar, please. But if you tell me how to reach the kitchen, I can do it myself tomorrow.”
“It’s my pleasure to do so.” He pulled a slim tablet from the interior of his suit jacket, typed for a moment, and gave me a nod. “Done. It will be delivered shortly. Would you like me to unpack and lay out your wardrobe for today?”
“Oh, uhm, well, if that’s your job, then please do.
” I felt like a dummy just standing there as Rolph set to work with efficiency.
He moved with speed and within minutes was down to the bottom of my suitcase where my lone suit lay folded under my shaving kit.
He placed the kit on the bed and lifted the suit jacket from the case with two fingers pinned to each shoulder.
The man never said a word, but I caught the slight lift of one thick silver eyebrow as he assessed the suit that I had worn to get married and then, sadly, to bury my wife. “It might need pressing,” I offered.
“Yes, it’s seen some wear. Perhaps I can do something with the frays on the edges of the sleeves and this stain on the lapel.”
“Do you think it’s not suitable for the baptism?” I now felt like the working-class man that I was. He looked my way with bright blue eyes. “It’s the only suit I own. I know it’s old. Probably outdated. Shit. Oh sorry! Should I buy a new one?”
A rap at the door saved the poor man from saying what I already knew. He laid the jacket on the bed, went to let the young lady in, and then hurried her off once the coffee had been wheeled in on a small cart. There was a small plate filled with pastries sitting beside the silver pot.
I rushed over to pour my own coffee so as not to feel like a dork. “So the suit?” I asked after taking a sip of the best coffee that had ever run over my taste buds. It was a light roast and had a sweet yet fruity flavor. “Is it too old to wear?”
“I’m sure it’s not my place to say, sir,” he replied in that thick Germanic accent.
“No, please, Rolph, be honest. I’m not really a clotheshorse, so…” I pulled out my best sad dog face. “Your advice would be appreciated.”
“Well, sir, if it were myself, I would visit one of the tailors in town today for a fast fitting on a new suit. Perhaps a dark brown or gray to complement your hair coloring?”
“Okay, thank you. After we tour the gardens, I’ll ask for a car to go into town.”
“Let me arrange that for you, sir. The garden tours should take an hour or two, so we can have a car for you at the front door at three in the afternoon?” He looked up from the slim tablet in his hand.
I nodded. He typed. “Wonderful. A car will be ready. I took the liberty of having security go with you since Prince Anders will no doubt wish to go. Also, as a reminder, there is a family dinner in the private dining hall at eight tonight. Required attire will be dressy casual. Perhaps a new sweater to wear with your older suit after it’s been freshened up a bit? No tie will be required.”
“Sure, yes, I’ll look for a sweater when I go to buy a suit.” I smiled at him. He nodded back with a pleased aura.
“Excellent. You have thirty minutes to shower and shave. Would you like me to start the shower for you?”
“No, no, I can do it. Thanks.” I hurried to toss back my coffee as he began placing my socks and underwear into the small drawers in the massive armoire.
I grabbed my shaving kit. Slipping into the bath, I couldn’t help but feel awkward having some stranger handling my briefs.
Shaking off the embarrassment, I turned to see a huge shower awaiting me.
Thick towels hung neatly over two racks.
The white marble sinks and toilet glistened.
A potted orchid in a blue pot sat on the counter.
The floor was warm under my feet. Behind the thick sliding doors of the shower, I saw bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sitting on a narrow shelf next to a stack of washcloths, a loofah, and a shower puff.
Every possible want had been taken care of before a person even knew they wanted it.
I was beginning to see why poor old Aladdin wanted to be a prince. The bathrooms alone were reason enough!
***
I saw my daughter for about forty minutes at luncheon before she was whisked off by the queen for a “girls’ day out,” which both seemed to be giddy about.
Anders had lingered over his coffee as Rani and I had exchanged schedules.
I filled him in on what Rolph had set up for me.
Anders did wish to go clothes shopping, so Arne and Alfred were tasked with accompanying us, just as they were now as we made our way outside.
The wind from the mighty peak blew damn cold as it roared down the cliff side.
Anders was bundled up in his blue Prada coat and one of my homemade scarves, the wind throwing his curls this way and that.
I had pulled on an old sweater, one that I had made for myself a couple of years ago, with my thickest coat, a scarf, and mittens.
Della pranced along beside us, unleashed, in her pink sweater.
No mittens were to be seen on her tiny feet, and I asked why as we strolled through the wintry remnants of the English garden.
“She had some yellow ones from Gilda, but she tore them off then tried to eat one,” he explained as the dog trotted along merrily on the swept garden path. “I give it about four minutes before she’s begging to be carried because her feet are cold.”
I chuckled and then slid my hand into the crook of his arm. He patted it gently. The two men behind us were as quiet as new snow, never making a sound to disturb us.
“I know this is going to sound nosy, but how large are the castle grounds?”