As the limo ascended the road to the palace, Adelaide could see it looked even prettier close up. The stone walls, a warm wheat tone, were set off by the russet-red tiles on the varied rooflines above. Though the palace had a stalwart appearance, it was also welcoming. As they got closer, an ornate iron gate opened automatically to let them into a large, protected courtyard area. A few other vehicles were parked about, but Adelaide could just imagine horses and carts from a bygone era.
Of course, as Anton used his cell phone to speak to someone inside, she was reminded of the current century. The limo driver dropped them off in front of an intricately carved wooden door, flanked by enormous arched windows with stained glass. Standing outside the door was a colorfully uniformed porter. He greeted them and opened the massive door with flourish and ease. Although it was chilly here, Adelaide knew her goose bumps had nothing to do with the temperature. Was this place for real? Was she actually here . . . or just dreaming?
“This is the ground floor,” Anton told her as they entered into a large entry hall. A few tapestries and oversize paintings of historic aristocracy lined the stone walls, as well as some old furnishings. In the center was a massive staircase that fanned invitingly out onto the marble floor. “This level is mostly utilitarian. It includes servants’ quarters, storage, laundry, access to the stables and gardens and such. This hall has probably seen the least change over the recent centuries.” He pointed to a set of carved wooden doors. “However, there is an elevator.”
“An elevator? That staircase is so beautiful, why would you want to use an elevator?”
He laughed. “You wouldn’t if you’re young and strong and energetic. Would you like to take the stairs?”
“Most definitely.”
As they climbed the stairs, which were more numerous than a usual staircase, Anton explained what lay on the next floor. “We call it the first floor, and it’s something of a public space. Primarily used for business or entertaining. A large ballroom is off to the left, and the formal dining room, which seats more than thirty guests, is opposite. There’s also a spacious sitting room, a well-stocked library, a meeting room, and several parliamentary and prime ministerial offices. I’d offer you the full tour, but I feel compelled to get you to King Max promptly. He’s on the third floor.”
Adelaide paused in the center of the first floor’s elegant entry hall. Warmed by the climb, she removed her long coat and draped it over her arm as she took in her surroundings. This floor was much better lit than the one below. The huge crystal chandelier, combined with more stained glass windows, flooded the marble-floored hall with color and light.
“Very nice,” she murmured, turning to Anton. She could feel him studying her, perhaps critiquing her very lawyer-like ensemble, which suddenly felt out of place in this sophisticated place. The white button-down shirt, gray cashmere cardigan, straight black wool skirt, and black ankle boots had felt practically stylish yesterday. Not so much now. She forced a smile. “Should we take the elevator to expedite things?”
“Yes.” He went over to push the button. “I already notified the king’s aide that we were on our way up.” As they got in, he described the floor that they were skipping. “Eight very comfortable guest rooms occupy one side. Six that are en suite, two that share a bath. There’s also a sitting room for guest use. The other side is primarily used for smaller gatherings. A large parlor, a semiformal dining room, and another library.”
“Is the third floor the top floor?”
“As far as living quarters go, yes. But there are several interesting spots in the turrets above. They are only accessible by steep stairs and rather like crow’s nests, but the views are spectacular.” He checked his watch. “The third floor is for royal family use only. The king’s suite is the largest room and has its own private study. The queen’s suite is much smaller, but she utilizes an attached nursery. There are also two bedrooms for family members, an intimate but comfortable sitting room, and a smaller dining room and separate kitchen.”
“Interesting. It sounds like a complete house all on one floor.”
“Yes, very self-contained and comfortable. Best of all, in my opinion, are the terraces and views. Especially from the king’s quarters.”
As the elevator doors opened, Adelaide was assaulted by a surge of nerves. “Am I supposed to act a certain way?” she whispered. “Do I bow or curtsy or—”
“Don’t worry. Montovia is not as formal as Great Britain. And don’t forget, you are royalty too.”
She shook her head in disbelief. Royalty? How was that possible? But there was no time for more questions, because a dignified middle-aged man in a dark gray suit was approaching them. He greeted Anton, then waited to be introduced to Adelaide. Anton introduced the man as Herr Schneider, the king’s assistant. She did not miss that Herr Schneider politely dipped his head—like a bow.
“King Max is waiting.” The king’s assistant turned, then led them down a slightly dim hallway until he came to a tall wooden door, where he tapped three times and, using a key, opened it.
Herr Schneider stood aside as Adelaide stepped toward the door. As if noticing her nervousness, Anton spoke softly behind her. “I’ll wait in the library. Let me take that for you.” He removed her coat from her arm. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
She looked at him with wide eyes, not willing to part ways with her congenial guide. “But I—”
He placed a comforting hand on her arm. “King Max wishes a private conversation with you.”
“Does he speak English?” she asked, her heart beating quickly.
“Fluently.” His bright smile felt like a small shot of courage.
Adelaide took a deep breath as she followed Herr Schneider into a fairly normal-looking sitting room. But she noticed the many details that made it more than an everyday space. Thick pale blue carpeting, walls painted an even paler shade of blue, beautiful oil landscapes with ornate gold-gilded frames. She also spotted several well-arranged pieces of contemporary and antique furnishings complemented by attractive accents, but it was the tall arched back of the royal blue velveteen chair that captured her full attention.
It faced away from her, toward a large window with an amazing view of the countryside. She knew that her father was seated in that chair. Her father . . . the king. She felt slightly faint.
CHAPTER
Five
Herr Schneider politely presented Adelaide to King Max, then indicated she should sit in the armchair opposite him. With trembling knees, she eased herself into it, gripping the soft velvet in her nervousness. Neither of them spoke as the king’s assistant quietly made his exit, locking the door behind him. Adelaide felt she could barely breathe, let alone speak. Besides, she wondered, perhaps it was impolite to speak first. She ran her hands over her plain wool skirt, crossing her legs at the ankles and tucking them beneath the chair the way Maya had taught her to do back in middle school. Still, the king did not speak. He simply looked at her with a somber expression that was impossible to read. Was he disappointed, regretful, concerned, or just plain weary?
She returned his gaze, using her own poker face, and was surprised to see that Anton was right—his eyes, though paler, were strikingly similar to hers. And although his hair was partly gray, she could see dark brown strands mixed in. Like her hair, it was wavy, a bit on the longish side, but perhaps he’d been too ill to see a barber. He was dressed in navy trousers and a quilted maroon jacket with a gold crest—was that what they called a smoking jacket?—she thought he looked quite regal. But his leather slippers looked worn.