Charlotte & Nate (Royals of Valleria #4) (11 page)

“That does not mean that I’m not equal to the task, Your Majesty,” Charlie quickly added.

“Of course not. Well, this has been an illuminating conversation.” The Queen patted Coco’s hand. “We’ll touch base tomorrow on final preparations. In the meantime,” she said, turning to Charlie, “I’d like Rebecca to meet you. Since you’re more likely to work with her over the coming months and years, it’s best if she meets you as well. We’ll also need to do a background check – completely standard, I assure you – as this position requires the utmost confidence and security clearance. We need to be sure you can keep a secret.”

Charlie nodded, her forehead scrunched with worry. She hadn’t expected this meeting but, now that she’d had it, she wanted this job. She’d worked damned hard to get to this point, and she wasn’t going to let anything – or anyone – stop her.

The Queen started to gather up her papers and stood; both Charlie and Coco stood immediately as well. “Thank you both for your time. Oh, Coco, I’ll just be lost without you. Wait until I tell Gabriel you’re leaving us. And the children! Oh, I’m sure they’ll all come down to visit you.”

Coco smiled, her affection for the royal family clear on her face. “You’ll be just fine, Your Majesty, and so will the others. I’m not leaving Valleria by any means, so they can still come and see me anytime they like.”

The Queen laughed. “I’m sure you’ll regret saying that.” To Charlie, she said, “It was lovely meeting you, Charlotte. Someone will be in touch with you soon. Until then, keep up the good work.”

Charlie curtsied – successfully again – and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

With a smile to Charlie and a wistful look to Coco, Genevieve left.

Charlie sagged in relief, collapsing into her chair. “Coco, I cannot believe you didn’t tell me what you had planned to do. I was blindsided.”

Coco just chuckled as she pulled a tray of proposed appetizers towards them. “You do look like you’re about to fall over. Eat a little something.”

Charlie absently picked up a small plate of scallops. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Coco picked up a plate of lamington and dug into the dessert. “Mmmm. Charlie, you did a good job with these.”

“Thank you, but why?”

“It’s the cream filling between the sponge cakes. Really well executed.”

Charlie huffed a laugh. “Not why you like the lamington. Why didn’t you tell me I was to meet the Queen? I felt so unprepared.”

“You did just fine, Charlie. I wouldn’t worry about it. Meet with Rebecca, meet with the security agents who contact you – though I’ll make sure they don’t bother you until after the state dinner – and be honest with them all. Isn’t any use trying to hide anything, all right?”

Charlie moved the scallops around on her plate. “All right, I will. Thank you, Coco. I know I’m probably not the most obvious choice here.”

“But you are the best, and that’s all there is to it.” Coco took a sip of Vallerian Grey tea and hummed in approval. “Nothing like a cup of hot tea and a sweet dessert. I’m going to stay here a few minutes and take a break. Why don’t you head down to the kitchens to finish up with tonight’s dessert and order what you need for the state dinner?”

Charlie pushed the uneaten scallops aside, her stomach now churning too much to eat anything. Her mind briefly flitted on her unfinished bowl of stew, which was sure to be cleared away by now, too. “Sure, Coco. I’ll take some of this down with me.”

“Don’t bother with that. Send up some of the waitstaff to clear it out.”

Charlie nodded and made her way across the room to the door. She paused, her fingers on the handle, and turned to Coco once more. “Did I really do okay?”

“You did just fine, Charlie Wyler. Just fine.”

Some of the tension drained from her shoulders, but plenty still remained. “Thanks, Coco,” she said, and walked out and back down to the kitchens.

Chapter 7

Nate was huddled in his father’s study where he’d just finished telling Alex, Marcello, and his father about Byron and Tim’s visit.

Marcello, who was in the seat next to Nate in front of their father’s desk, rubbed a thoughtful hand over his chin. “Makes sense. Those two would have a lot to gain by reporting false numbers. I hadn’t gotten around to looking at the Royal Council members yet, but I think I’ll look at them first. I haven’t gotten much from anyone else.”

“Much doesn’t mean nothing,” Alex said as he stood behind their father’s chair. “Who else do you suspect?”

Marcello shrugged. “It’s too early to tell and, no, I don’t have any names for you. Just because something suspicious has popped up doesn’t mean they’ve got the wherewithal to embezzle billions.”

“Marcello,” Alex started, but Gabriel held up a hand, silencing them all. “It’s all right, Alexander. Marcello understands the seriousness of this situation and if he had something credible to tell us, he would.” Alex nodded, though his mouth was set in a frown.

Gabriel sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead, his gold wedding ring glinting in the soft light of the room. The three brothers glanced at each other; their father rarely showed any stress. He was their rock: always calm and collected, the voice of reason.

Alex – who was much more emotional than Gabriel, and who saw his father in these moments more often than the rest of his siblings – often wondered if he would ever be half the ruler his father is. Today, however, Gabriel didn’t look the stoic leader the world and their country had come to know. Today, he just looked exhausted.

Alex squeezed his father’s shoulder. “Papa, why don’t we leave the issue for tonight? Marcello’s still investigating, and the budget Nate prepared can wait until morning. Let’s just have a quiet dinner and get some rest.”

Gabriel patted his son’s hand. “A fine idea, my son, but time waits for no man, especially not a king.”

“You know, I never noticed it until today,” Nate started, “but if Tim had a little more weight on him, he’d look just like Papa’s cousin, Gerald.”

A flash of anger crossed Alex’s face. “Don’t mention that man’s name to me. It was his fault Rebecca was almost killed.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “I wasn’t going to mention this, but now I think I will. Gerald contacted me recently. I know, I know,” he said to the outcry in the room. “He wants to make amends.”

“Amends?” Alex scoffed. “His illegitimate son, Lafayette, blamed us for the break in the line of succession to the throne, when it was actually his great-grandfather that abdicated the throne and caused the succession line to change. Lafayette kidnapped Rebecca, almost assaulted her, and shot at her – she still bears the scars from all that, by the way – in a feeble bid to make me change the line of succession back.”

“I know, my son. The fact that Gerald never mentioned or acknowledged his son, illegitimate or not, is bad enough, but he wants forgiveness.”

“Why in the hell would we forgive him?” Alex all but yelled.

“Zinnia has apparently had a very bad time of it,” Gabriel said, referring to Gerald’s legitimate and acknowledged daughter. “He wants to send her here for some time, and place her under our care.”

“Cat would just love that,” Alex murmured, knowing how his twin and Zinnia never really got along.

“I didn’t say I agreed to it, my son. However, I am a firm believer that the sins of the father are not the sins of the child.”

“Could we trust her?” Marcello asked. “What if this is just some setup to spy on us?”

“It very well could be,” Gabriel nodded. “We’re going to need to think on it some more before making a decision.”

Marcello rubbed a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Nate, you mentioned that Tim looked like Gerald. Do you think there’s a family connection we’re not aware of?”

Nate blinked. “No, actually, I didn’t. I mean they’re about the same age. If they were related, they’d have to be brothers or cousins or something like that.”

Marcello nodded. “I’ll look into that as well. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Indeed,” Gabriel said. “We won’t decide anything tonight, in any case. Why don’t you three go to dinner? I’m going to stay here and review the budget. Alexander, we’ll need to go over the Prime Minister’s visit in the morning.”

“Why don’t I have dinner in here with you?” Alex suggested. “We can go over things together.”

“Spend some time with Rebecca. Once the budget’s released and the news hits the press, we’ll likely not see any of the women we love for more than a few minutes each day.”

Alex looked as though he wanted to say something else, but instead he just nodded. He bent down to give Gabriel a kiss on the head. “All right, Papa, but I’m still having dinner sent in, and you’d better eat it or I’ll send Mama to check on you.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Your Mama will be in to check on me the second you tell her I’m still working, so don’t worry about me. Go on, now, my sons. All of you.” They each gave their father a kiss good-bye and left his office, shutting the door behind them.

“Who’s going to tell Mama?” Marcello asked as they made their way towards the dining room.

“I’ll do it,” Alex said. “I’ll tell her as I head up to see Rebecca. Papa’s right; I won’t get to see her as much once the news hits. I want to spend some time with her.”

“I hear you,” Marcello agreed. “I’ve barely seen Grace since we arrived. I’m going to go up and check on her. Looks like it’s just you and Mama for dinner, Nate.”

Nate shook his head, the clever half-lie already on his tongue. “I’m going back to the office for a while, then maybe I’ll take a walk in the gardens.”

Alex scoffed. “It’s November.”

Nate smiled widely. “Afraid to catch a chill, big brother? You always were a little delicate.” Nate just missed Alex’s hand as it swept up to smack him on the head. “You’re a poor shot, too. However did you last in the military for so long? Must be due to that whole ‘future king’ thing.”

Alex smiled wryly. “Must be. Why are you going back to the office? Papa still needs to review the budget.”

“Doesn’t hurt to get a jump on the changes he’ll want me to make.”

“How do you know he’ll want changes?”

“Because I know him. That was
my
budget, not the King’s. I knew that when I gave it to him; maybe he’ll listen, most likely he won’t.”

Marcello put a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “You don’t have to announce the budget Papa wants you to. You are the Minister in your right; the King can’t force you to do anything.”

“Maybe a King can’t, but a father can.” Neither Marcello nor Alex could say anything to that.

Soon enough, they parted for their respective evenings. Nate stopped by his apartment to quickly change and pick up some flashlights and blankets, as well as the picnic basket he’d ordered for dinner; he just hoped that Charlotte hadn’t been one of the people working to assemble it.

After putting on a soft, thick sweater and grabbing his supplies, he made his way through the secret passages towards the northeast entrance. He exited onto a small path that wound around the palace and waited.

Night had fallen swiftly and the stars blinked bemused above him. The paths to the gardens were lit with moonlight, and most of the leaves and flowers had tucked away for winter. Nate knew of a few spots that would still afford them privacy; he would need it for their night ahead. Though he’d like the privacy so he could hold her in his arms, he would actually need the privacy to tell her that her job might be in danger. He may never see her again after his confession.

Nate sighed and adjusted his arms, which were bundled with the basket and blankets, and leaned against the solid stone of the palace. It had been built well over a century ago and had withstood the tests of time and numerous wars. The palace would always be there, strong and sturdy.

Scores of his ancestors had come and gone but few of them were really remembered; Nate did not expect to be one of them. He would be a footnote on a family tree somewhere down the line in the history books, if that; only his father’s and Alex’s names were more likely to be remembered. As a royal prince, he never felt so small as he did while thinking about the palace and his place in Valleria’s history.

“Did you change your mind?”

Nate turned at the voice and his breath caught. The moonlight glinted against her silky hair and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the night. She’d changed – and showered, too, by the sight of her wet hair – into something warm and soft.

A sharp pang of heat and need clenched inside him; he wanted her, wanted her gentleness to soothe his battered heart, he wanted her sharpness to challenge his churning mind, and he wanted to lose himself inside her for hours and forget that the rest of the world existed, for just a while.

“Do you want me to go?”

Nate couldn’t understand why she was so unsure around him, but then, he was just as unsure around her, wasn’t he? He stepped up to her, and ran his hand over her damp hair. “I only want you to go if it’s to dry your hair. You’re going to catch a chill. Why would you think I changed my mind?”

“You looked sad, or maybe regretful.”

“Not about you.”

“Oh. Are you really worried I might get sick?”

“Clearly, you’re not.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, a trick his mother often used to gauge their temperature when they were children; Charlotte’s head seemed fine but he would keep an eye on her, at least tonight when she might still let him. “You look beautiful in the moonlight, by the way.”