NaNoWriMo 2022
Palace
American Kingdom Day 43
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The Regent’s Palace was not as I had expected it.
We were met at a landing zone; a private heliport in the middle of nowhere, going by what little I could see in the darkness. Seth greeted the two uniformed limo drivers by name and it was a five-minute ride to the Palace.
A step up from my greeting at Camp Whiffie, I have to say.
The Palace actually had the word “Palace” on the side. In neon letters. This wasn’t the classy joint I’d imagined. In fact, it looked like nothing more than a big resort hotel.
This is exactly what it was, when I saw the building in daylight, though I’m jumping ahead of my story.
I mentally turned off my inner critic. I wasn’t paying for this exotic foreign holiday. If my barracks room was going to be swapped for a hotel room with a view, then that was a step up, hey?
We were met in the lobby, as promised, by the commander of the Palace Guard. A tall Black woman with eagles on her lapels. Nathan and I made our way to her, while Hazel was greeted by a chubby little guy with glasses and Annie and Oscar were embraced by a cheerful woman who could only have been a senior nurse.
We didn’t salute, not being in uniform, coming to attention instead. We gave our names and ranks.
“Colonel Withers,” she said. “Glad to have you on board.”
“Congratulations, Sergeant Aizle,” she went on. “We can certainly make use of your skills. Lieutenant Donovan here will show you your quarters and fill you in on what’s expected.”
Nathan made a few polite noises. I could tell that he was bubbling over inside. This was his happy place, for sure.
I was impressed at the colonel showing up well after midnight. That boded well for our service here.
She turned away. “Ma’am?” I ventured. She looked at me, one eyebrow up, before turning back.
“Ah, Sergeant. I wish you were coming on strength. We could use you as well. Sadly short-handed right now. Perhaps you’ll have a chance to look around tomorrow, maybe consider a future post here.”
And with that, she was gone. It was just Seth and I left standing.
“We didn’t bring you all this way for chit-chat, Molly. Time to meet the Regent.”
A porter took my duffle and rollaboard away and Seth led me around the corner to where a sentry — obviously military, though he wasn’t wearing a uniform — guarded a door.
He waved us through. Huh. So much for security.
Seth noted my expression.
“See your lapel pin? It’s not just a flag.”
Now that I thought of it, the pin that Duke Francis had given me four days ago was a little bit chunky.
There was a small foyer beyond the door. A corridor led off deeper into the building and two elevators awaited. Seth chose the rightmost.
“These don’t stop at the public floors. The Regent has the top two levels. Office suite and residence above.’
The elevator arrived and we entered. Gosh. This was happening.
“How do you address him?” In theory, I had the answer but I wanted to check before shoving my foot in my mouth.
Seth looked at me. “Well, I call him ‘Papa’ but you probably shouldn’t.”
What? Big help, Seth.
“Your Highness?”
“Correct. ‘Sir’ thereafter, ‘Prince David’ if referring to him in conversation with another. Uh, there are all sorts of rules for this but trust me, he won’t be offended if you screw up. He’ll just smile and there’ll probably be any number of protocol experts appear out of the carpet afterward to let you know what you should have said.”
And here we were. The elevator opened on another foyer, and another guard, this time in dress uniform. Chunky pistol as a sidearm, I noted with professional interest, assault rifle discreetly racked beside his post. He came to attention and saluted, dropping back to parade rest as we passed.
If this was what Palace duty involved, Nathan was welcome to it, I thought.
David Adamson, Prince of Jerusalem, Regent of the Kingdom of Jesus, rose from a chair where he had been reading.
“Papa,” Seth said, sending me a sideways wink as he embraced his father.
“Your Highness,” I said, coming to attention and bowing my head.
“Sergeant Freytag, so good of you to come so directly,” he said, extending his hand. His handshake was firm and he looked directly into my eyes.
“He’s a good man, Molly,” Jesus said privately to me as I returned his gaze.
“Thank you for inviting me, Sir,” I said out loud. “It is an honour to be here.”
“Yes, and if you still hold that view after a week, I’d be grateful if you could let our mutual friend in Charleston know. What did he tell you about this place?”
Ooops. Step carefully, Molly!
“He told me to enjoy my time here, Sir.”
The Prince laughed. “And to get out as soon as you could arrange a flight home, I’ll bet. Right?”
“With all respect, Sir…”
He waved me down. “No, I won’t ask you to break a confidence. He thinks you will be corrupted here and wants you back under his wing. I’m afraid he’s going to be disappointed. Now, we need to talk. Can I offer you a drink? Coffee, soda, something stronger?”
“I’ll have a shot of that Glenfarclas I see there, Papa,” Seth said, aiming a gaze at a bottle sitting beside the Prince’s discarded book.
“I should have put it away. I’ve been tracking your progress like Amazon Prime. My fault for not getting out the Johnnie Walker Red before you got here. Sergeant?”
“A coke of some sort would be fine, Sir.”
“Coke it is. Seth, can you pour me another dram, please? Sergeant, let’s get some fresh air.”
Next chapter:
Notes
I’ve been making it up as I go along, really. All these ranks and titles. I just went back and corrected Molly’s first meeting with Princess Dee, where she is addressed as ‘Your Royal Highness’. Now that I think of it, there is only one line of royalty in this outfit, and all these princes and princesses don’t rank high enough for that.
If I screw up, just smile, and say something in the comments, please.
Molly
