18. 18
Selene
Magnus calls me into his office.
“We’re heading to England for a few days,” he says without his customary greeting.
“We?”
“Me and Duncan. I thought you… I thought you might like a break.”
A break? That sounds slightly ominous. “Are you meeting with the royal family?”
“I’ve got a casual meeting with Charles, but that’s it.”
I nod. “If your new wife were to come with you, there would have to be a formal dinner to welcome her,” I tell him.
“Welcome you,” he corrects with a grin. “And yes, that’s what they said. Considering the reason we’re going, I thought we could do that during the next trip.”
I wait patiently to see if he tells me what the trip is for. Because it wasn’t on his schedule this week.
I know that, because I helped make the schedule.
“We’re looking for a replacement for Mrs. McCutcheon,” he says without giving me much time to wonder.
“And this is something you need to do personally? I think Duncan can handle it. Or even Benny.” It took a few days to get used to the ease Magnus interacted with his equerry, as well as his head of security, but it’s understandable when I thought of how he’s known them for years playing in the band.
“She says she won’t consider it unless she meets me,” Magnus says sheepishly. “And she’s already working for Buckingham Palace, so I don’t want to cause an international incident.”
“It could happen,” I muse. “The queen of Sweden once persuaded the valet of the Emperor of Japan to work for them, and there was considerable backlash against all of Scandinavia.”
Magnus’s usual healthy colour pales. “Are you serious?”
“Poaching staff can be seen as a serious offence.”
“But what if she wants to come?”
“Then that’s her decision but look at the potential cost before you make the offer.”
Magnus shakes his head. “See, that’s something we’d have no idea about.”
“I could handle it for you,” I offer.
“And you’d probably be much better at it, but Dunc’s got a bee in his bonnet about doing it himself. The woman’s husband—her name is Mrs. Theissen—is a lawyer, so we’re going to try for a two-for-one.”
“Does he work for the royal family?” When Magnus shakes his head, I give a smile of reassurance. “Then you should be fine. Offer him the job first, and it will go easier for this Mrs. Theissen.”
Magnus smiles widely. “That’s why I married you.”
“I hope there’s more reasons than that.”
“Many more. Look, I invited Diandra to come stay with you while we’re gone. I know it’s only a couple of days, but it’s pretty lonely being here alone.”
“There’s enough staff that I doubt I’d ever be alone.”
“Meals,” he says ruefully. “I hate eating here alone.”
The image of Magnus at that huge table by himself does something to me. So does the thought of him with a tray in here, not to mention that he obviously thought about my comfort as well. “Thank you,” I say with a shy smile. “That’s very considerate of you.”
“I try. How’s the new sitting room coming along?”
“It should be ready by next week. It seems like this room was decorated around the same time.” I wave my hand at the wallpaper, with its thick brown and blue stripes.
“Yeah, it’s on my list to do something about in here,” he admits. “I thought it would make me feel closer to my father keeping it like this, but I can’t stand the colour. And it’s not me.”
“I need your help,” I tell Diandra. She’s only just arrived, bags piled by the stairs waiting to be carried up.
“This sounds fun.”
“I hope so. I want you to help me redecorate Magnus’s office.”
“Oh, thank god. That place is a man cave from hell! Let’s get started.”
It takes us two days and the help of almost everyone in the castle.
Diandra has an eye for colours and light that I lack, and it takes her no time to pick a hunter-green shade that would go well with the dark wood trim.
The gardener, Bob England, provides a few men to strip the wallpaper, and after a quick deep clean from the castle cleaning staff, they paint the room.
I listen to Diandra and keep the massive oak desk, but we find a leather couch and chair in nearby Mary’s Harbour, along with a bookshelf, and have it delivered.
While this is going on, Benny goes through Magnus’s things. After the walls are painted, he hangs the platinum record, as well as a glass case containing his gold medal, on the wall.
And his guitar.
The room is finished on the fourth day. “I didn’t think we’d pull this off,” Diandra says, turning to study the work that we had done. “It looks great.”
“It looks like Magnus.”
“It really does,” she agrees. “And that you can see that bodes well for you two.”
I like Diandra, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing my relationship with Magnus. Probably because I don’t quite understand it myself.
I find that I miss him more than I thought I would.
“You know what we should do?” Diandra asks. “Celebrate this.”
“How do you celebrate decorating a room?” Although I am proud of what we’ve accomplished, I don’t need a party for it. But he has to come home for that.
Tomorrow. He’ll be home tomorrow, and the thought sends a flood of happiness through me.
“Let’s go for a drink in Battle Harbour,” Diandra says.
“I have no suitable clothes for drinks in Battle Harbour,” I admit.
“I know that, so I bought you a bunch of fun clothes.”
Magnus has mentioned a few times that he’d be happy to take me shopping, or at least provide a credit card to pay for what I need, but I’ve been too busy to take him up on it. Plus, I’m not sure what I would buy.
I’ve always had a closet full of clothes, but they were always somber and conservative, in shades of neutral that will never go out of style, nor will ever really be in style. They are clothes more suitable for a queen-in-training, or a woman much older than my twenty-nine years.
In Avelaine, I dressed to be seen, to impress those who might have seen my age as a disadvantage. I’ve never dressed in anything that I was comfortable in… or made me feel sexy.
Living in Laandia, I’m surprised that I want to feel sexy.
I want Magnus to think I look sexy.
For the first time in my life, I want to impress a man. My man.
Diandra helps with that.
She’s bought me jeans—so many styles and colours that I’ll never be able to pick a favourite. And the sizes fit perfectly.
With the bag of denim, comes T-shirts and tops that I would never be able to wear at a state dinner, but might be perfect for a night out dancing.
If I weren’t the queen of Laandia.
“I can’t wear this,” I tell her for the fifth time.
“You can’t wear anything else, or you’ll stand out. And you don’t want that. Laandia is a different place, and we don’t want to treat our royals any differently than the regular folk. You need to pretend that you’re regular folk here.”
“I’ve never done that,” I admit, in a quiet voice. I stare at my reflection, dressed in low-cut jeans that hug my hips and long legs, and a simple black T-shirt that shows a thin stripe of skin when I lift my arm. I see a queen staring back at me, dressed inappropriately.
At least, in Avelaine, it would be seen as inappropriate.
In Laandia, though… “Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass Magnus.”
“Magnus will love it. He just wants you to be happy here, and for you to be yourself.”
“I’m not sure who that is,” I admit to my reflection. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“There are probably a lot of things you haven’t done, my queen. Let’s fix that tonight.”