"I don't know who's in charge around here, but they really need one of those apps that sayyou are herethen tell you where you need to go. Like go past three suits of armor, two corridors, a priceless vase, and a painting from the 1790s, then hang a left."
The snort that came out when she laughed had never happened before. Catherine clasped a hand over her face. "That would be good for people who don't know their way around, but most people have an escort."
He gave a half-shrug. "You don't have one either."
Could he really not know who she was? That happened so rarely. "I've been walking these halls most of my life." She stopped just short of saying she lived there.
"Do you have a family member that works here?" He sounded completely innocent and not like he was working an angle.
"Several, actually. Many of my family members, going back generations, have worked in the palace." A very true, if slightly misleading, statement.
They reached the double doors, covered in ornate carvings with openings for windows set in them. Catherine turned and with a flourish of a hand indicated the doors. "You have arrived." She tipped her head downward. "Madeleine will be alerted when the doors open, but her office is easy to find. Everything in there is recorded," she warned. "There's not even a restroom in the archives. Literally everything is watched from multiple angles."
It was his turn to bow slightly. "I assure you, the queen has nothing to fear from me. I will guard her historical treasures as though they were my own."
Catherine didn't let the smile on her face grow as wide asshe wanted. Controlling her emotions and the outward presentations of them was exhausting. "I'm sure she'd appreciate that."
"Thanks, and thank you for making sure I didn't get even more lost and end up with security taking a sword from one of those suits of armor and threatening me with it." He reached for the door. "Have a good day, ma'am."
It was all Catherine could do not to swoon against a nearby column.
Mumeleine always talked about how characters met in books.
Meet cute.
Had Catherine just experienced a meet cute?
And would it even matter if she didn’t know his name?
Jacob Whitfield wentthrough the doors to the archive then turned and looked back toward the woman he'd just met. He felt like he should know her, but couldn't quite place where he would know her from.
And he hadn't thought to ask her name.
Her laugh continued to ring in his ears. He suspected the snort wasn't something she did often, not with the way she clasped her hand to her face.
He smiled and shook his head, turning back to walk through the room, head swiveling from side to side, taking in the ancient paintings and other artifacts. The woman had told her he'd have no problem finding the office, but before he could look, someone else entered the long hall.
"Mr. Whitfield?" An elegant woman in her late-40s walked toward him, a smile on her face. "I'm so glad you didn't get lost." She held out a hand as she neared. "I'm Madeleine Woodward Wellington,Royal Historian."
He took note of how she said her name, with a long i sound, and shook her hand. "Please, call me Jake. And I did get a bit lost but a young lady took pity on me and showed me how to get here." Something else occurred to him. "She did seem a bit surprised I didn't already have someone with me."
"You probably should have." They turned toward the direction she'd come from. "But they know you've been thoroughly checked out and have been here before, many times."
He chuckled. "Not since I was about ten. Before we moved to Northern Santiero. My father says hello, by the way." Jake's father had been the Royal Historian until they moved for family reasons. He'd since worked for the Northern Santiero royal family, but not in quite the same capacity.
"How is he?" She walked into an office.
"He's good. So is Mum." Jake looked around and tried to remember how it had been. The desk, though cluttered, wasn't quite the disaster it had been when his father used it. The pictures on the walls had been replaced with prints of landscapes from throughout Eastern Novigradia - mountains, beaches, seascapes, and, most prominently behind her seat, an old drawing of the palace. He'd been to a few of the places, but not all of them.
It surprised him there were no personal photographs around, but perhaps that had something to do with both the part-time nature of her position these days, as well as the royal nature of her family and not wanting them on display.
"Please, take a seat." She motioned to one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. "I presume there's a reason you wanted to see me besides looking around your old haunts."
Jake moved the strap of his satchel over his head and set it in the next chair. Thankful he'd already organized it, he pulled out a small stack of papers and handed it to her. "I'm looking for an internship or part time employment in Eastern Novigradia. I don't need much income, though a little bit would be good. Ihave a place to stay with my grandparents, but I do need to provide a few things for myself. I don't know if you have anything available, but if not or if I'm not a good candidate, I'd appreciate it if you'd point me in the right direction, Mrs. Woodward Wellington."
She made a sound of acknowledgment as she skimmed through the pages. "Please call me Madeleine. Your resume is quite impressive for one so young. Much better than mine was at your age."
"Having a father in the same field helped a lot. Most teenagers don't get to go on digs or help catalog finds from ancient ruins." He leaned back in his seat, trying to appear comfortable but not arrogant. His resume wasn't just quite impressive for his age, it was quite impressive for anyone under the age of about fifty with a lifetime of experience in the field.
