The King's Bride

‘Did you see him, Bess?’

‘Oh, yes. I was there too, in a little ante-room, so that I could look after her when she needed to take the weight off her feet. What’s King Daniel like? I’ve seen his pictures, but they make him look rather cold.’

‘He does, just at first. But there’s something about him that isn’t cold at all. I’m sure of it.’

Bess nodded, smiling. ‘Ah, yes. Something deep inside, and he won’t let you reach it until he’s ready. Just like his grandfather.’

‘Did the Dame tell you that?’ Lizzie asked with a chuckle.

For answer Bess laid a finger over her lips, with a look of mischief.

‘Have a wonderful trip, Lizzie, dear. And come and see me when you get back.’

Voltavia lay in the very centre of Europe, with borders that touched France, Switzerland and Germany. It had a population of a million, four cities, one important river, three official languages—English, French and German—and one airport.

Lizzie emerged from Arrivals to be greeted by a driver in the palace uniform. He took charge of her bags and escorted her to a waiting limousine. When she was settled in the back he showed her the well-stocked bar, asked what she would like to drink, and poured her an orange juice.

‘It’s thirty miles to the palace,’ he said, taking his place behind the wheel. ‘I hope you enjoy the journey.’

The first part of the trip lay through some of the most magnificent rugged scenery Lizzie had ever seen. She watched, holding her breath, as mountains gave way to pine forests, where wild bears still roamed, and then to lakes, serene and impossibly blue under the summer sky. At last they neared Durmann, the capital, turning off just before the city to sweep down the long approach to the palace.

It was a grand structure, a quarter mile long and built from a honey-coloured stone that looked beautiful in the soft glow of the sunset. Two Z-shaped staircases adorned the front, on one of which a man was waiting to greet her. Lizzie recognised Frederick from the ball. Smiling, he explained that he would be her host until the King was free.

They embarked on what seemed like a long journey, down endless corridors, until at last they reached the apartment set aside for her use. It was a charming place, a bedroom, a living room and bathroom, with modern facilities, yet a touch of old-worlde grandeur. When Frederick had gone Lizzie stripped off for a shower and a change of clothes that left her feeling ready to tackle anything, even Daniel.

Especially Daniel. Wryly she made the admission to herself.