Page 4 of Fit for a King

There would be world leaders, foreign nobility, and diplomatic liaisons from across the globe in attendance, and all eyes would be on the man I was here to interview for.

The new king—His Majesty Nicholas Laurent Valemont.

He didn’t even get a day to mourn.

“Did you see him on the television?” someone whispered inside the room. “Not one tear.”

“Cold as a stone, that one,” came a reply.

“I know. But that’s his father.”

“One who wasn’t very present⁠—”

“But still.”

The conversation stopped at the same time my feet did, and when a man, slightly younger than myself, came to the door with a silver fork in hand, he looked me up and down.

“You lost?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, no,” I said, then pointed up the hall. “I’m looking for the west corridor.”

“Well, it’s not here.”

“Right.” I gave a clipped nod and then held my hand out, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot with the other staff, since I hoped to soon join them. “I’m Noah. Noah Bennett.”

The man looked at my hand, then reluctantly took it in his, no doubt wondering what I’d heard and whom I’d tell. But he had nothing to worry about from me.

If there was one thing I’d learned from working downstairs in a place of such high rank, it was how to keep a secret.

“Charlie. You here for a job?”

“I’ve got an interview, yes. I was told to wait for Mr. Baxter in the west corridor.”

“The west corridor?” Charlie shook his head as he leaned out the door and looked down the hall. “I think you mean the east. His office is in the east.”

I frowned, sure that I’d heard Trudy right, but, not wanting to be late, I turned back to Charlie, who had a friendly smile on his face. “Mrs. Hutcheon told me west.”

Charlie nodded and glanced back at the other man in the room, who finally spoke up.

“She’s busy this morning. Probably just slipped her mind. Mr. Baxter’s office is definitely in the east.”

“So I take a right at the portrait of Queen Genevieve?”

Charlie and the other man nodded. “That’s right.”

“Okay. Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“No problem.” Charlie held his hand out again. “Good luck in your interview, Noah.”

“Thanks.” I shook his hand, grateful he’d helped me out. “I appreciate that. I hope everything goes smoothly for you both today.”

With a final farewell to them, I headed down the hall in the direction I’d been told, and when I reached the portrait of the queen, I stopped and looked to my left and then my right.

I was just about to turn to the right, in the direction Charlie had pointed me, when a door to my left was flung open.

“Five minutes!” A young woman in a black dress and white apron turned toward me and shouted up the hall, “Five minutes! The king and crown prince are five minutes out!”

She rushed past me so fast my hair ruffled in the whirlwind she caused, then knocked on doors and called out the same message over and over.