The Eye of the Wolf (19 page)

          Mikayla lowered
herself into the Louis XIV chair slowly and with precision. Smoothly, she
crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. She watched the women across
the coffee table from her under veiled eyes as they calmly poured tea and
placed small sandwiches on fragile china plates that were probably two hundred
or more years old. No one spoke. The silence was deafening. It was also
powerful. It suggested the power of the two women, women who would never sit on
the throne of Amor, but who, in their own way, ruled from behind the scenes.

          The older of the
women sat straight on the settee, her back never touching the plush upholstery.
Although she was obviously older than the other woman, it was difficult to
ascertain her age. She looked young yet wise, shrewd, cunning even with her
severe chignon swept back from her finely lined brow. Her hair was the color of
straw right after it has been cut, when it is still gold and fresh from being
in the hot summer sun. She was tall, perhaps close to six foot, and slim. She
didn’t look as if she worked hard to remain perfect, yet Mikayla knew that she
probably did, just as most women did.

          Mikayla continued
to take in the person of the Princess Royale, Elizabeth Chambers, as the
delicate plates and cups were passed around to her. Elizabeth Chambers, a woman
who once had been the star of the Viennese Symphony had married a prince, the
heir to the Amorian throne and had given up her life as a violinist. Mikayla
noted the long, tapered, delicate fingers that had once romanced a prince
through the music that had come from her fingers to the violin she had
embraced. Her face was pale, but suggested merely an interest in preserving her
natural beauty rather than sickliness. Her nose was pointed, like that of an
aristocrat, and it matched her defined cheekbones beneath a faint layer of
blush.

          The Princess
Royale was dressed in a simple cream suit with a simple strand of pearls around
her neck with matching pearls adorning her perfectly shaped ears. Her skirt cut
off precisely at the knee to accentuate shapely legs in cream stockings. Never
in Mikayla’s life had she seen another woman who was so perfectly put together.
Suddenly, she felt underdressed in her simple navy suit and very self-aware of
her fly-away hair that had always had a mind of its own.

          The Princess
Royale gestured for Mikayla to enjoy her sandwiches and small cookies before
beginning the interview. Mikayla’s eyes caught the glint of the five carat
diamond and emerald combination that decorated Her Royal Highness’s ring
finger. A beautiful testimony to the love that had brought her from Austria to
Amor when she was only 23, a child by some standards.

          “Please, Dr.
Knight, drink your tea. There will be time for the interview later.” The
Princess Royale spoke softly but there was a command in her voice with its subtle
Austrian accent that demanded obedience.

          Mikayla smiled
shyly to the woman who had been the head of the household of Amor since her
marriage to the Dauphin over the rim of her fragile tea cup. She sipped
silently and allowed her eyes to roam over the face of the woman before her. A
fascinating human-being who garnered both fear and respect, but Mikayla
suspected also love of those who knew her well.

          “Tell me, Dr.
Knight, what is life like in the great cities of America?” A bright, bubbly
voice intruded into Mikayla’s musings and drew her attention away from the
austere Princess Royale to the younger woman seated beside Her Royal Highness,
the Crown Princess, Victoria.

          Mikayla set down
her tea cup and smiled brightly at the younger woman who was a replica of the
Princess Royale in every detail except hair style and dress. The Crown Princess
wore her sunny blonde hair in a short bob that bounced flirtatiously around her
diamond-adorned ears. Perfect spiral curls raced down her strands of hair,
bouncing and swinging. She wore a deep purple pant-suit with a single gold
chain at her neck. She was just as beautiful as her mother, but there was a
difference. The eyes of the Crown Princess, though green and glowing like a
cat’s were not hunting, they showed humor and kindness. They laughed when she
laughed and suggested a bit of fun behind the royal title.

          “Well, Your Royal
Highness,” Mikayla began, unsure exactly of how to address these powerful women
who had been born into a life of privilege that Mikayla would never understand.
She had never met royalty before; there must be some sort of protocol, except
that she wasn’t a subject of the Amorian court. “Life in America certainly
moves at a faster pace than it does here in Amor.” She paused, unsure of where to
go with this small amount of chit-chat. Luckily, she was saved by the giggle of
the Princess Royale.

          “I agree.
Everything in Amor moves at a slower pace than the rest of the real world. I
think we actually have more than twenty-four hours to a day with as slow as
life moves around here.” Victoria smiled warmly and reached across the coffee
table that separated them. She grasped Mikayla’s hand in a warm, strong grip
and vigorously shook her hand. “Please, call me Victoria.”

          Mikayla returned
her smile with one of her own. She knew that if they had met under different
circumstances, Victoria would be one of her closest friends. There was an
element of fun to her that appealed to Mikayla’s more somber nature. Mikayla
nodded her head in assent. “Please feel free to call me Mikayla.”

          The Princess
Royale set down her tea cup and recrossed her legs, elegantly, someone
accustomed to presiding over others. “Your name, Mikayla, is very unique. How
did you come by it?”

          Mikayla fidgeted
slightly with the hem of her skirt. “Well, your highness,” she nodded to
Princess Elizabeth, “my mother was positive I was going to be a boy and so she
only picked out boy names. When I was born a girl, she was very startled. My
grand-father’s name is Michael, and they were going to name me Michael. Because
they had no girl names chosen, they chose to give me the feminine form of
Michael, which is Mikayla.”

          Victoria giggled:
a bright, shiny sound. “Oh, that is a lovely story. It is much better than
being named after some old, dead queen of England.” Victoria rolled her eyes.

          Elizabeth frowned
at her daughter but made no comment. “Tell us what you have been up to since
you arrived here at Amor, Mikayla.”

          Mikayla sipped
from her tea cup and watched the two women over her cup. They were so refined,
but there was more to them than that. Their simple presence, without speaking,
without the use of the more appropriate English, no slang or contractions,
suggested that English wasn’t a first language for either of them. Beyond that
though, there was more. They were royalty. Everything about them, even
Victoria’s simpering giggle, suggested knowledge that they knew they were
better than everyone else.

          “I have explored
pretty much the entire island, from top to bottom. I have also been spending much
of my time researching in the Hall of Records and interviewing the residents of
the island.” Mikayla took another sip of tea. “My assistant is a native to the
island and has been a wonderful asset to my research.”

          Elizabeth 
refilled Mikayla’s empty cup and added another cookie to her empty plate. “Tell
me, Mikayla, what about Amor do you wish to know. We are here to answer your
questions.” Elizabeth set the silver tea service back on its tray. She looked
up and met Mikayla’s eyes with a reserved look, a look that suggested she was
only doing this because she had to. She had better things to be doing.

          Mikayla felt cold
suddenly under the cold scrutiny of the future queen of Amor. To warm herself,
she glanced quickly at the Princess Royale who smiled brightly and helped
herself to another cookie, but there was something different about the Crown
Princess on that glance. Her dancing eyes were no longer laughing; they were
watching Mikayla with calculation, waiting for something. Mikayla felt like an
animal being tracked. Then, just as quickly as the look had come into her eyes,
it was gone. Mikayla blinked, sure that it had been a trick of the light once
the Crown Princess smiled brightly and leaned forward towards Mikayla.

          Mikayla swallowed
and cleared her throat. This was ridiculous; this was part of the job. “Your
highness,” she directed her look at Elizabeth, “explain to me the role Amor
plays in the world today.”

          Elizabeth seemed
to settle herself more into the settee, but still, she did not recline. Her
feet never left the floor. She sipped thoughtfully from her tea cup,
formulating her answer, ever the politician’s wife. “Well, Mikayla, Amor is a
small nation, but we provide some of the best sand and surf in the
Mediterranean to the wealthy who can afford to stay here.”

          Victoria leaned
forward. “We provide them with an exclusive place to come and romp for a
weekend without the bother of the press.” She winked at Mikayla, the laughter
once again in her eyes. “In fact, Prince Charles has graced our shores at least
once, if not more. And he wasn’t alone!”

          Mikayla grinned.
It seemed even royalty couldn’t resist the turbulent lives of the British
monarchy and the scandals regularly reported in the tabloids. “What other role
does Amor play?”

          Elizabeth frowned
again at her daughter. It was unseemly for a princess of Amor to discuss the
activities of other royal families; after all, her own son, Jonathan, had made
the cover of many a tabloid once he turned eighteen and became a target of the
press. His death had been a media field day. That was the danger with being a
member of the royalty club and with living off the island. Victoria had never
left the island as her brothers had; she didn’t know what life was like beyond
their shores. Hopefully, one day soon, things would be different and Victoria
would never have to live the life other women had struggled through.

          Elizabeth mentally
shook herself from her gloomy thoughts. She could feel Mikayla’s penetrating
blue eyes staring at her, waiting for an answer. It would not do to give a
member of the press, even if she was a professional historian any hint to the
turmoil that surrounded the monarchy of Amor. She smiled slightly at Mikayla.
“Amor is a place for people to dream. It provides that fairytale atmosphere for
people who have never out-grown the fairytale. It also provides the best
fishing grounds in the world. We sell more kinds of fish from here than any
other place in the world.”

          Victoria’s voice
echoed her mother’s. “I think people come here because there is no where else
in the world that is nearly as constant as Amor. It is like a fairytale to live
here. There is a royal family that remains secluded from everything else. It is
a mystery.”

          “Why does the
royal family remain secluded from the rest of the island? What is the purpose
in today’s modern society of remaining in the Secluded City?” Mikayla voiced a
question that had been on her mind since her initial arrival on the island.

          Victoria frowned,
a crease developed between her finely shaped brows. “It’s tradition.” She
answered after much thought and with finality.

          Before Mikayla
could speak, Elizabeth held up a hand. “It is more than that.” Her voice was
cool, but the power was there, demanding Mikayla to listen. Mikayla obeyed,
drawn to the obvious power within. “The Secluded City is more than a fortress.
It is a home. It is our home. People ask why we remain secluded from the people
of Amor, but we don’t. Victoria works at the local school as an art teacher. I
work at the hospital as a volunteer in the elderly ward. My husband donates
time and energy to research for better fishing techniques and ways to replenish
the environment after we have taken from it. We also donate much of our time to
international charities, which affect even your life in the United States. We
are, however, also a ruling family. There is no Parliament such as with the
British. We all are part of the island and the people’s lives, but we are still
the royal family, the governing body.”

          Elizabeth paused
and looked into Mikayla’s eyes. “Would you have your president live in the
apartment next door to you?”

          Mikayla cocked her
head to the side and regarded the woman before her. Her Austrian accent echoed
through Mikayla’s brain, questioning the role leaders should play in the
country they lead. No, she supposed she wouldn’t want the President of the
United States to live in the townhouse next to hers. One, she had voted for the
other guy, but also wealth was power. If the President was shown as poor, there
would be less power to be wielded over other nations in the world, nations
where there was perhaps more wealth. Mikayla nodded her head in understanding.
There was still one question that lingered.

          “What role does
the Crown Prince play then?”

          Elizabeth smiled
demurely. She had wondered if the American knew anything about the son who had
turned out to be such a disappointment to her and her husband. She almost
wished that Victoria had been born a boy so that Victoria could inherit the
throne after Andrew was gone instead of the boy. “Hmmm,…the William’s job is to
rule the nation. He is busy learning to be a leader by traveling the world,
meeting with other great leaders. When he is here, he often stays at his
father’s or his grandfather’s side to learn the art of being a king.”

          A diplomatic
answer, Mikayla thought, and a very good cover, if she hadn’t already heard
from Will that the heir apparent was less than appealing.  She looked into
her notebook for another question and then glanced up at Victoria. Victoria was
regarding her closely, her eyes glowing green, but there was a hint of humor
within them. Mikayla smiled at Victoria, and it was returned.