The Guardian by Diana Knightley
Sixty-five - Magnus
Dinner was tae be a state dinner, a grand affair tae prove my largesse though my kingdom remained in shambles and m’palace, Caisteal Morag, was a half-broken ruin. I had tae prove that I was back, home, and ready tae rule and that the kingdom was strong and powerful like the king.
I had not been ready and available tae fight for many long years, but I felt my old self again, and I hadna realized how weakened I had become. I had m’kingdom, most of the vessels in the safe, my wife and bairns safe, our family and friends close under the same roof. Chef Zach, though, was verra bored and Master Cook was agitated. He would leave on the morrow tae look for Madame Sophie again.
Kaitlyn stood beside me, and read my mind as she often did. “I worry about James. He misses her so much.“
“Aye, when yer wife is absent, a husband feels a powerful pull tae go get her, but if she is lost tis verra difficult.”
Zach and Emma walked up, he said, “What the hell is with this monkey suit?”
Magnus grinned, “Ye look quite fine, Chef Zach.”
“I wore a suit at my wedding, I was promised that was the end of it, and now look.”
Kaitlyn said, “It’s worth it though, so Emma can get dressed, right? I mean look at her, she’s beautiful.”
“That is true.” He leaned over and kissed her.
Fraoch and Hayley arrived and joined us. Fraoch said, “How are we tae wear these for the whole night? Are ye mad, Og Maggy?”
I said, “Aye, ye must wear them the whole night, with all buttons buttoned. We must look respectable, tis the price we pay for the six course meal we are about tae be served.”
“If I am tae eat six courses, I will hae tae unlatch the belt.”
A round of wine was delivered tae us and I raised m’glass tae say, “Tae the women we are surrounded by, Madame Beaty, Madame Emma, Madame Hayley and Queen Kaitlyn, ye all look verra beautiful.”
Kaitlyn raised her glass, “And to the beautiful men, in your dignified suits.”
James walked up, “Were you guys talking about me in this monkey suit?”
Emma said, “You look very handsome, James, I wish Lady Sophie were here to see it.”
He tugged at the collar. “Yep, me too, I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out where there might be a sign or a message. How would she know where to leave one? Would she know?”
Everyone’s face was pensive. Kaitlyn asked, “You've gone back to Balloch? You sent men to Kilchurn — how many times now?”
James nodded. “Yes and yes, three times already, again tomorrow.” He held up his drink.
I said, “I will send more men with ye on the morrow—”
Kaitlyn said, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m worried about Lady Mairead. She should be back by now, too.”
I said, “I will send men to look for Lady Mairead as well, but for now we celebrate the might of the Kingdom of Riaghalbane.” Kaitlyn’s brow raised with an amused smile.
I glanced across the room at a circle of officers, all basking in the glory of our win, though ultimately Kaitlyn had won it in a restaurant all alone. I tugged her closer and kissed her forehead. She would nae get the glory, not from these men, but she assured me she dinna want it, saying, “It wasn’t tactical. It wasn’t a military strategy. I didn’t win the war through waging it. What if we think of me as the spy who infiltrated the enemy lines and murdered the king, like, I did it, I deserve kisses and hugs for it, but as a spy I don’t really want my name to get out there, you know? I feel like it might put a target on my back.” She had grinned and said, “And if everyone knows I’m so lethal and amazing my cover would be blown and I wouldn’t be able to be a spy again, that would suck.”
I had said, “Aye, that would suck.”
* * *
The company at the state dinner filled the dining hall. Long tables with six courses, beginning with a cream of cauliflower soup, followed with smoked scallops and mushrooms on couscous, and Champagne sorbet, then roast duck a l’orange that Chef Zach declared delicious. After that we were served a salad of roasted endive and pear, followed by a wheel of sharp cheddar and then lastly a layered ice cream torte with assorted crisp cookies. We had a selection of single malts and wine flowing. And after, the party was led down the halls tae the ballroom, only used once since I had become king.
Kaitlyn leaned in, “I am tipsy! Am I supposed to be tipsy? Hayley! Do you want to dance?”
“Maybe in a little while, not feeling this rock band.” She squinted at the orchestra.
I said, “I think ye will find tis nae that kind of dancing.”
Kaitlyn asked, “What kind of dancing do you think we are going to do?”
I laughed. “The wrigglin’ kind, as if ye are a worm on a hook. This is tae be the borin’ kind — the men winna even kick their legs, we hae tae be orderly throughout it.”
The dancing began, ballroom style, Kaitlyn said, “Man, I wish you could just king it, go out in the middle and kick your legs a lot.”
I smiled and lifted my brow. “Tis yer definition of kingin’ it?”
“Hell yeah,” she took a sip of her drink. “I mean, what is more king-like than making the band change music, mid-song and dancing in a totally different way? It would be totally badass. You know what? The queen will give you a special Master Magnus hello-good-morning if you do it.”
“Och, a Master Magnus hello-good-morn? The special one?”
She laughed, “Aye.”