“Hello?” A woman’s voice made Adelaide jump—literally—to her feet. She turned to see a tall, dark-haired woman approachingfrom what she assumed was the private section of the royal home. Dressed in a midnight blue dress with several strands of pearls on the bodice, the woman looked elegantly austere. Like a smooth, deep lake on a cold winter’s day.
“You must be Frau Smith. I am Queen Johanna.” Adelaide noted that the queen’s accent was thicker than her husband’s. “Welcome to my home.” She came over to take Adelaide’s hand, but hers were so cold they sent a shiver through Adelaide. “Please, excuse my cool hands and my tardiness. I took a brisk stroll with the dogs, and the air turned to ice. I hoped for a warm bath, but our early dinner plans prohibited it.”
“You should come over to the fire. It’s nice and warm here.” Adelaide noticed the queen’s narrowed eyes and was reminded of her place. She was not the host and perhaps not even a truly welcomed guest. She had overstepped in inviting the queen to her own hearth.
“Max will be in shortly. He does not move too fast these days.”
Adelaide glanced toward the door the queen just entered through to see it opening again. She watched a lanky, light-haired man enter the room. He gaped awkwardly in her direction, then turned his gaze to the queen with a crooked smile.
“Sorry to be late.” He came over to Adelaide, looking on with open curiosity.
“Have you met my son, Prince Georg?” The queen seemed to hold her head even higher.
“No,” Adelaide said. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“So,youare Adelaide.” Georg clasped her hand. To her relief, his hand wasn’t as icy as his mother’s. “Pleasure to meet you. Are you enjoying Montovia?”
“Very much so.” She forced a smile. “I spent some time in the village this afternoon. You have a beautiful home.”
“Where did they put you?” he asked.
“Put me?”
“Your room. I assume you are on the second floor.”
“My room is on this floor.”
Georg’s brows arched as he glanced at his mother.
“It’s a lovely room,” Adelaide said quickly, eager to gloss over whatever was happening. “The view from this floor is spectacular. I’m most appreciative.”
“Hello!” a cheerful voice interrupted the tense interaction.
Adelaide turned toward the other end of the room where a different door was opening. King Max, in a wheelchair, was being guided in by Herr Schneider. Eager for a friendly face, she went over to greet him, taking both his hands in hers. “Good evening, King Max. I’m so happy to see you again.”
His eyes gleamed. “Excuse my late entrance.” He glanced at Herr Schneider. “It’s his fault.”
Herr Schneider simply nodded.
“He insisted I needed to shave.” He rubbed his chin. “Perhaps I did.”
“Are you joining us for dinner, Herr Schneider?” the queen asked a bit sharply.
He politely declined. As he excused himself, Adelaide stepped behind the wheelchair. “Would you like to sit by the fire?” she asked the king. “It’s quite nice.”
“Danke, mein lieber, danke schoen!” He thanked her profusely as she wheeled him past his wife and stepson, both of whom watched on with curious expressions. “Are you quite comfortable here? Und in your room?”
“Oh, yes. I was just telling Queen Johanna and Prince Georg what a beautiful home you have. My suite is perfectly lovely.” She waved her hand before her. “And this one is too. Someone has a very good eye for interior decor.” She glanced at the queen. “Is that your responsibility?”
“I do what I can,” she said stiffly.
“The queen’s decorator is always changing something,” the king said with what sounded like disdain. “I can get lost in my own home.”
“Let’s proceed to the dining room,” the queen announced and, nudging Adelaide out of the way, waved to her son. “Prince Georg will help his father to the table.”
“Yes, of course.” Adelaide stepped aside, watching Georg fumble to manipulate the wheelchair through the dining room entry.
“You sit there.” The queen pointed to the long side of the fully set rectangular table. And as she unceremoniously took a chair at one end, Georg wheeled the king opposite her. As he took the chair across from Adelaide, he grinned at her as if he’d just suppressed a good joke. The queen rang a brass bell, and a uniformed maid emerged with a tray of soup dishes.
