She wrapped her arm over his. “Thank you.” His kindness stirred even more emotion.
“That is the library.” He pointed to a set of double doors. “I’ll wait for you there.” Now he led her down a different hallway, past a couple of rooms. “This will be your room.” He pointed to a door.
“On this floor?” she asked. “I thought this was the royal family’s—”
“You are part of the royal family, Princess Adelaide.”
She fought to contain her tears, but instead of arguing with him, she opened the door to her room and stepped inside. He probably thought she was rude as she firmly closed the door behind her, but she felt raw ... as if the top layer of her skin had been peeled away and the slightest touch would cause pain. This was too much ... too hard ... too soon.
CHAPTER
Six
Adelaide had never considered herself an overly emotional person. After all, a successful attorney knows how to hold feelings in, keep them at bay, and play their best poker face. Yet after a good cry, she felt better. And after a refreshing shower in a bathroom that came fully stocked with the best aromatic amenities, she was almost ready to face the world again.
Wrapped in a thick terry robe, she decided to really check out her luxurious suite. She’d never been fond of pink, but the pale shell-pink color of the walls was calming. The walls were artfully decorated with lovely paintings of pastures and sheep and mountains. The large portrait of a shepherdess that hung above the headboard was her favorite. It felt so familiar to her, she wondered if it might’ve been an ancestor.
As she padded about the spacious bedroom, the dove-gray carpeting was soothing beneath her bare feet. Her clothes had all been neatly unpacked and put away by someone while she met with the king, but they barely made a dent on the generous closet and large bureau of drawers. As she flipped through her options, trying to choose something appropriate for theafternoon, she knew her wardrobe was at best very limited. She finally pulled on her nicest pair of black slacks and an olive turtleneck. Boring perhaps, but at least the garments, which she’d found in her favorite thrift store, were good quality. She added a paisley silk scarf to her ensemble. Although it helped, its somber burgundy tones were not exactly festive. But then, neither was she.
Adelaide ran a hand over the ornately hand-carved bed frame. Like the other wood furnishings, it had darkened with age and was probably centuries old. She carried her boots over to the creamy white armchair. With its matching ottoman, it was clearly not an antique. She sunk into its soft comfort to pull on her boots, longing to linger there. It would provide the perfect place to read a book or gaze out the window. But she couldn’t keep Anton waiting.
She went over to the bed to grab her long winter coat. The fluffy duvet and pillows looked inviting, promising a good night’s sleep. Like the king, she would be keeping “old folks” hours tonight—and was glad of it. How long had it been since she’d slept in a real bed? She couldn’t calculate the hours since she’d gotten on the plane back home. As she reached for her bag, she couldn’t deny this room truly was fit for royalty. Although she did not feel the least bit princess-like. But perhaps that didn’t matter.
Anton was waiting as promised in the library. She apologized for taking so long, but he quickly dismissed it. “My only responsibility for the day is to see that you are well cared for,” he said as he headed for the elevator. “I made a lunch reservation in the village. Do you mind if we go directly there? I can give you a full tour of the palace when we return.”
“Lunch sounds lovely.”
As they went down, Anton asked if she preferred to go by limousine or his vehicle, and Adelaide admitted that she liked the anonymity of a less conspicuous car. He seemed to appreciatethat. Before long, she was climbing into his older Land Rover and was glad she’d worn pants.
“I know we could’ve eaten in the palace, but you’ll probably be there a fair amount of time anyway—if King Max gets his way, that is.”
“I’d like to spend as much time with him as possible,” she confessed.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He asked about her visit, and she explained that they’d barely started to get acquainted, but she felt it had been good.
“Herr Schneider seemed impressed.”
“Impressed how?”
“He said the king was in very good spirits after your visit. Schneider and the nurse had to almost force him to take his afternoon rest. But hopes of dining with you later persuaded him.”
She gazed out the window. “I wanted to ask about the seriousness of his illness and what’s being done to help him, but I was worried it would only discourage him.”
“He does dialysis regularly, but the royal physician has been candid with my uncle. It is unlikely the king will last through winter. But then again, he didn’t think he’d make it through autumn.”
“He does seem very weak.”
“But happy to see you.” Anton turned down a narrow side street and parked. “My sister, Elsa, owns this restaurant. If you don’t mind, we’ll sneak in the back door.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“Elsa went to culinary school in Paris,” he explained as he helped Adelaide out of the car. “Her French cuisine has become so popular, you need reservations to dine here—even for lunch.”
“Even if you’re her brother?” Adelaide teased.
“Unless you want to eat in the kitchen.” He winked.
Elsa warmly greeted them, leading them to a corner tablenicely set for two, complete with a complimentary bottle of sauvignon blanc. Elsa poured them each a glass while she made several tempting suggestions for their meal. After their orders were placed, Adelaide surveyed the nearly full restaurant, taking in the white fairy lights and the evergreens draped from the timber beams.
