CHAPTER 22
Axel
W
hat?” Helena shot out of her chair. “You cannot be serious!”
Axel sat back, clearing the way for Father’s poisonous glare. “Helena, sit down.”
“But Papa, did you hear what he said? He words it like I’m no more than a—a—brood mare!”
The king’s eyes narrowed, and his quiet voice could have frozen the Felsig. “I heard. Now sit down.”
She pinched her lips together, but she dropped back into her chair, folding her arms over her chest.
Axel maintained a neutral expression, waiting to see how his father would handle this. Technically, the council could force Helena to marry once she turned twenty-five: another pesky law aimed at securing the succession. But that law didn’t account for magical curses.
The king steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “My daughter needs time to adjust to the changes in the world and her place in it before considering matrimonial prospects.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Lord Ulrich murmured, his eyes communicating anything but, “from what I hear, she has already expressed an inclination in that direction. If you wish to discuss trouble with our allies...”
Katy’s grip tightened on Axel’s hand. Of course Lord Ulrich had ferreted out the true reason behind Helena’s impromptu trip; he wouldn’t have accepted “confused and overwhelmed and looking for space to adjust.”
Thankfully, Helena had the sense to restrain herself. Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t reply.
Father kept a stern gaze on Lord Ulrich. “As I said, she needs time to adjust. Forcing her into an undesirable relationship will not improve things for her.”
Axel resisted the urge to roll his eyes; it hadn’t been a concern when it was Katy being forced into one.
“Not to mention,” Father continued, “the only princes of suitable age are eldest sons. If Helena married one of them, her children would be raised in another kingdom. You objected to my niece for the same reason.”
Undeterred, Lord Ulrich answered, “Which is why I propose one of our noblemen. She could have her choice as long as she makes it within, shall we say, three months?”
~
“Six months,” Helena fumed, storming across Axel’s study. “I can’t believe the council expects me to get married in six months!”
Katy’s eyes flicked up from her ledger. Axel didn’t think she was actually reading it, but she seemed to prefer distance from his sister. “It’s longer than your father gave Axel and me.”
“That’s not a fair comparison,” Helena complained. “The two of you had been in love for almost a decade!”
Giving up on his correspondence, Axel pushed back from his desk with a sigh. “Yes, but we didn’t know it then. The ‘forgetting where you were’ part of your curse was far-reaching. It made fair Katrin desperate to escape me.”
Helena’s nose wrinkled. “Seriously? I can’t picture that.”
Katy stiffened beside him. He wasn’t eager to spread the truth, but his lingering irritation tempted him to needle her. “Alas, she had found a new sweetheart in my absence. To accept me would be to forego him; I had a difficult time persuading her that I was preferable.”
He raised a challenging eyebrow when she twisted in her seat. If you don’t like my version, you’re welcome to tell your own.
His wife held his gaze for a long moment before returning to her ledger. “Fritz was a dear. He’d been pining for me for a long time; longer than I’d been pining for the young noble who never said goodbye.”
“Me,” Axel supplied in response to his sister’s blank expression. “Best guess, the magic couldn’t erase the fact that I wasn’t a peasant, so it told her I was a noble.”
Helena slouched against the wall with crossed arms. “Yet you still got to marry her. It’s not fair!”
She might feel otherwise if she knew the cost.
A knock at the door preceded a palace messenger. “Excuse me, Your Highnesses. The king sent word that Princess Helena is to report to her tutor immediately.”
Helena released a huff and stomped from the room without parting pleasantries. The messenger approached Axel with a basket of mail. “Delivery for you, Your Highness.”
Axel gestured to a corner of his desk. “Thank you. You can set it down over there.”
He stared at the pile as the messenger left. More correspondence. He hadn’t finished the last batch yet.
“Would you like me to sort it for you?” Katy offered. Her chair scraped against the floor as she rose.
Leaning his head against the tall back of his chair, he smiled wearily up at her. “If you don’t mind, that would be wonderful, my love.”
She patted his shoulder and laughed. “I may as well add ‘Secretary’ to ‘Taskmaster’; they cover the same ground. Besides, you have enough to do after your unscheduled trip to Daraigh.”
His eyes followed her as she rounded his chair and perched on the edge of his desk. Her dark blue dress was new, sporting a higher waistline and looser skirt to accommodate her growing belly. “You have things to do as well. But shouldn’t you be resting?”
Rolling her eyes, she bopped him lightly on the head with the folded letter in her hand. “I’m fine. If everyone keeps hounding me about it, I may go run a lap around the garden to prove it.”
“Please don’t do that.” He reached forward to run a light hand over her stomach. “I’m eager to meet our little one, but I would prefer to wait the expected several months.”
“Good. Now stop worrying about me and finish that letter.”
“Anything for you, Katy.” Scooping up her wrist, he kissed the back of her hand. Then he signed his name with a flourish, folded the paper, and set it aside with the others to seal later. Another one down, only a multitude to go.
“A package,” Katy mused. The paper wrapping crinkled as she turned it in her hands. “It feels like a book, but there’s no return address.”
Eager for a distraction, Axel pushed his pen to the side and held out his hand. “May I see it?”
She gave it to him, then watched as he tore the paper beneath the unmarked wax seal and pulled the contents free.
“What is it?” She leaned over to see better, but he didn’t reply right away. His eyes were glued to the cover. Running his fingers along the edge, he slowly opened it, hungrily taking in the markings.
“It’s the score for the upcoming production at the theater.” He found one of the men’s parts and began quietly humming the notes.
“I didn’t know you’d asked for a copy.”
“I didn’t. I wonder who sent it?” It was an idle thought as he continued to work out the musical line. This would be an amazing piece to sing with a full chorus.
A deep longing stirred within him as he remembered the few times he’d had that opportunity. Both times he’d performed as Gunther, as a last-minute understudy and then to appease the mysterious note-writer. Then rehearsals for the performance as himself that Father had pulled him out of.
The one that ended with the fire.
Katy slid off the desk and stood next to him. “Are we going to slip away after supper to work on it? Or give up weapons practice before breakfast tomorrow morning?”
Her words shook him loose from his thoughts. Since the fire and Lotti’s disappearance, he’d mostly been singing things he already knew. He had sung a few things for other people, but it was for the joy of singing, not training.
The last several months, he’d barely sung at all.
First the trouble over the succession and then the attack on him and Otto had taken priority, driving him to work on other things when he used to disappear to the music room.
He’d told himself that he would be fine without it.
He’d told himself that he could simply be a patron when the theater reopened.
But sitting here with the score in his hands, the black ink staining the creamy paper with new and beautiful music and the promise of hours of enjoyment learning and perfecting the part with Katy, inventing their own dances since they didn’t know the official choreography…
His chest burned with the need to slide onto the piano bench and explore the melodies with his wife.
That was why it was so hard to close the book and sit back in his chair.
“I shouldn’t learn it,” he forced out. If he wanted something new, he could purchase sheet music.
But not for the theater’s new production.
“It would be better for me to hear it the first time on opening night with everyone else.”
“What?” Katy pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling all right? When was the last time you didn’t learn a show before it opened?”
“Before Helena’s curse took me away from you,” he admitted.
With his right hand, he smoothed the worry crease in her forehead before wrapping a finger in her curls.
“But the note-writer threatened terrible things if I didn’t sing in the last two shows.
The theater burned down because I didn’t.
” He gulped, letting his eyes fall to the score on his desk.
“If I don’t know the part, the note-writer can’t insist I sing at the last minute. ”
Katy lowered herself onto his lap and moved her head into his line of vision. “There haven’t been any notes or accidents since the fire. And you’d agreed to perform in both of those before the note-writer made demands.”
“I agreed to play Cesar because of his demands.” Dropping his hand to her waist, he pulled her closer and laid his head against hers. “It was singing on opening night that was last-minute.”
She squirmed in his arms, trying to turn toward him. “I still think—” Pausing, she leaned forward. “Axel, let go for a moment.”
He released his hold but left his hands on her waist, letting the smooth fabric slide past his fingers as she hopped up and knelt on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“A note fell out.” Her voice had a somber tone. When she stood up, she held a small piece of paper. “It might be time to talk to your father.”
Taking it, he ran his eyes over the message. It was from the operations director, and it was short.
For Gunther. Just in case.