“Mrs. Warner.”
“Oh, yes.” Meredith had nearly forgotten that the Warners stayed with the family wherever they went.
“But they won’t be here for a while.” He frowned. “So we’ll probably eat with Grandmama.”
“Right.” She ran a hand over a granite countertop. “This looks like a fun kitchen to cook in.”
“You could cook here,” he said eagerly. “Until Mrs. Warner comes anyway.”
“I’d be happy to,” she told him. “If it’s okay with the queen.”
“Want to see my room?” he asked.
“Of course.” She smiled as he took her hand again, allowing him to lead her down a hallway and into a room with blue walls and a large table with rocks and shells and animal skeletons and resource books. “Very studious looking.”
He picked up some kind of skull. “This was from a badger.” He began to explain about the jaw and teeth and feigned fear.
“Scary stuff,” she teased as she strolled about the room, seeing he had his own bathroom and, instead of a wardrobe, a closet. How modern. She felt a new respect for Princess Anastasia. The woman clearly was trying to create something for her children that she wanted them to feel comfortable in. It was rather endearing. “Your home is lovely, Mishka. I like it a lot. I bet you’re happy to be back here.”
“I’m especially happy since you came home with us.” He beamed at her. “Want to see your room now? If Grandmama lets Kat move out.”
“Whether it’s Kat’s room or mine, I’d love to see it.”
He led her to the room next to his and, although slightly larger and more feminine, it too was modern and comfortable. Not cold and formal like the other rooms in the castle. “Very nice—” She paused at what sounded like Kat’s voice calling out.
“In here,” Mishka yelled back. “In your room.”
Kat rushed in with wide eyes. “Grandmama wants to see you right now, Meri. At once.” Spencer came behind her, a slightly grim expression shadowing his face.
“Your presence is requested in the royal chambers, Miss Meredith.” He grimaced. “I will take you there now.”
As she followed him, she wondered if she should check her teeth or smooth her hair. Or was it too late for that?
“I’ll warn you, the queen isn’t taking this well,” Spencer said as they went down the massive wood staircase. She ran her hand along an intricately carved banister, wondering how many hands had done the same—perhaps heading for the dungeon or gallows.
“I gathered that.”
“Keep in mind, it’s nothing personal,” he said quietly. “It’s just that she doesn’t like to feel like she’s been hoodwinked.”
Despite the grim circumstances, she smiled. “Hoodwinked?”
“You know, someone conniving behind her back. Gets her worked up.”
“Does she think this is my doing?”
“Not completely. She blames Kat too. But since Kat is her granddaughter, it’s probably easier to blame you.”
“Of course.” Was there any point in trying to set the queen straight? Or would her mind be made up?
“I think if she meets you, it will help,” he said, almost as if reading her thoughts. “She really does care about the children. And Kat did a brilliant job of laying out the situation. Well, until the queen grew irritated. Then it turned into an argument. And that never goes well.”
“Hard to win an argument against the ruler of the kingdom?”
“You’ve got that right.”
“Off with your head?” she said quietly on the last step.
He chuckled. “Something like that.”
