Vicious King
I’m not about to ask exactly what went down with Branch and the ‘issue’ in the Canary Islands that was handled. But I do have quite a lot to atone for these last few years and I plan to start now.
Looking at my son, I know I have loads to do in gaining forgiveness and trust with my wife and children, starting with Larz.
“Let me run this by you, son. What if Rome champions for legislation to tighten controls on transfers of currency over foreign borders, even if listed as charitable to prevent this happening again?”
Larz thinks on it, his eyes squint in concentration. “I,” he puts emphasis on it, “think it’s a solid idea, but you’ll need to see if Rome is even interested in it.”
I sigh. “Rome hasn’t spoken to me since my sentencing.” The negative PR that rolled in after my sentencing took out more than just me, it also swept my oldest under too. Thankfully, he didn’t have a hard time regaining the public’s adoration.
“Here you go, boys,” Granny interrupts us, walking in with two big baskets stuffed to the brim with delicious smelling goodies and bags of tea and such. “I stuffed some dinners in there and a few tins of those wafers your sweet lady loves so much, my boy.” She grins, patting Larz under the chin again. “Gotta make sure that baby is healthy when it gets here, so make sure she drinks the teas I’ve placed in your basket my dear boy.”
Larz smiles. “Of course Granny. We are going to find out next week if it is a boy or a girl,” he adds.
We are ushered out of the small cottage and back out into the midday sunshine. I load myself back into my car and wave goodbye to my son and mother-in-law. Looking at the basket in the passenger seat, I thank Granny for giving me an idea and head straight for the nearest florist. I’ll buy their biggest bouquet. Oh, and I can ring Ollie’s to reserve a table for dinner tonight. She’ll love that. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, humming to the beat.
Time to get my queen back.
Chapter Ten—Mykaella
Where are you, my mad king?
I place the bags from my shop inside the entryway to the palace—Gerrie comes fussing around the corner, wiping her hands on the folded apron at her waist and sets to collecting my items.
“Are you going back out then, your grace?” she asks, her flushed cheeks suggesting she spent the last few hours whipping up something delicious in the kitchens with Chef.
I smile and nod. “Just going to enjoy the garden a little longer, Gerrie. I won’t be too long.”
She winks and scuttles off.
The sun is hanging low and I shield my eyes with my hand as I step back into memory lane. It’s peaceful out here, with just a light breeze and a few chirping finches singing to each other from the bushes. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since I last sat out here and enjoyed such peaceful serenity.
Normally, I avoid the shops as much as possible. With everyone’s whispers, cameras and phones flashing, and of course, petitioners trying to grab my attention out of turn. It’s honestly never an experience I look forward to. But, today was different. I actually tuned them all out and just lived. Mads’ return has awoken a part of me that I thought was broken and lost—never to be seen again. I smile as my mind wanders to the sheer lingerie Gerrie has no doubt discovered by now.
A car pulls into the courtyard and my heart quickens. I stand and steal a quick glance through the twin birches at the edge of the garden. Mads is collecting something from the passenger side and spots me through the branches.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, disarming me with his warm gaze and devilish countenance.
I know what lurks behind that hungry look and the longing rushes up through my body.
“And so the Mad King returns and he brings,” I cock my head to the side, eyeing the basket in his hand, filled with my mother’s teas and homemade baked goods. “A basket of goodies all the way from the Northern Mountains of Denmark.” His other hand is hidden behind his back.
He grins and profers his other hand which holds a bouquet of spring flowers so large I’m surprised he is able to hold onto it one-handed.
“Oh,” I gasp and lean in to inhale the arrangement. “They are beautiful,” I whisper.
“I know something even more beautiful.”
His soft gaze melts my core. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him as much as I can and kiss him firmly. Mads lowers his filled hands to my hips and returns the kiss.
We stay locked in the kiss, savoring the feel of our bodies pressed together before Mads sets the basket on the ground and the bouquet on top. He can’t free his hands fast enough and is quickly by my side, picking me and wrapping my legs around his waist like before.