Running from Royalty

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Kathleen

The numbers blurred in front of my eyes, dancing across the computer screen in a wild minion-style salsa.

This was not a good sign.

I leaned back in the office chair and stretched my arms out over my head, my light blue blouse riding up my arms as I added in a neck roll, wincing at the snapping and popping.

It helped, but a good solid night's sleep would do more. A week of almost non-stop work and it'd come down to this—the next few hours would make or break everything.

I couldn't help looking over at the framed picture on the wall, of my parents in front of the café. It was an old photograph taken on Opening Day, 1990. I lay in Mom's arms, only a few weeks old as they beamed at the photographer, Dad pointing at the sign overhead—Kiski's Kafé.

I often stared at it and wondered if their smiles had hidden the same nervous panics I'd gone through since taking the café over—the fear of failure, not only for our family, but for those we worked with and supported.

"Hey. Hey!" Lily smacked the palm of her hand against the glass door, startling me. She trotted in, clutching the file folders to her ample chest. She'd worn her power suit to work today in preparation—dark blue, the pristine white blouse only brought out for the Big Deals. "No time to rest for the wicked or weary, Kick. Ovens are hot, coffee's brewing and the lawyer's on the way over. Rosa's making up a cookie tray for him—one to sample here, one to take back to the office." She rubbed her thumb and first finger together. "A little sweetness to grease the wheels."

"What?" I scrubbed my eyes, sandpaper against satin. "That was supposed to be tomorrow. What happened?"

"Closed early. Got a jump on the paperwork, so today's the day." She slapped the folders down in front of me. "Got lucky, wind blowing our way for once." She swept a long red lock of hair out of her mouth, a refugee from the tight ponytail flipped over one shoulder. "I've got renovators sending in quotes—we'll have to knock the wall down between the stores and open it up, lengthen the counter space as well as add in more tables. Make sure we don't compromise the building's integrity, of course. Be a bit of work, but we've been planning this for months." With one hand she tipped an invisible glass in the air. "Tonight, we're doing margaritas until we can't see straight. Celebrate Kiski's Kafé's big expansion! Today, Toronto—tomorrow the world!"

Before I could answer, she was gone—Lily never needed coffee to be hyper.

I flipped open the first folder, holding back a sigh. It'd taken the better part of six months to negotiate picking up the storefront next to us. We'd managed to hold off one of the major coffee franchises that had opened and closed on the next block, chasing him off within a few weeks with our steady customer base. It didn't hurt that we were very active in the community, donating unsold pastries and bread daily to the soup kitchen a few blocks over. Offering coffee coupons didn't make those sorts of connections. We were local, and damned proud of it.

As I focused on the first page filled with legalese, Lily came blasting back through the door, closing it with a gunshot snap. She put her back to the glass, staring at me.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed at the second interruption, then froze.

Lily was pale, her eyes wide with fear.

"Find one of the news channels online. Now." She turned and flipped the lock, securing the room. "No time to deal with people looking to switch shifts."

I tapped my keyboard, bringing up one of my favorite stations. Lily came around to stand beside me, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"It was on the set in the break room." She let out a low moan. "God, Teddy..."

I whipped my head around, almost smacking her in the face. "Teddy what?"

There was only one Teddy in our lives—and I had forsaken him a decade ago.

"Just look." She grabbed hold of my head, fingers digging deep into my scalp, and turned it back as the live feed resolved itself on my screen.

I blinked as the reporter shouted something about fire engines arriving, her cameraman stepping to the side to scan what stood behind her. Smoke billowed out the front doors and windows of an ancient structure, the stone pillars by the front doors now marred with dark smoky scars. People staggered out, some assisted by first responders in bright yellow vests and others scrambling under their own power. It had to be some sort of fancy event, based on their attire. Well-dressed men gasped for air, carrying women in their arms, soot staining tuxedos and evening gowns.

I couldn't look away, frozen to the apocalyptic images. "What is this? What am I looking at?"

"A terrorist attack. In Ansulenia." Her nails dug into my shoulder. "Bastards. They blew up the theater, the entire building. They're talking hundreds of people, the possible casualties—" She paused. "The Royal Family was there."

My stomach lurched. "Theo..."

"I don't know," Lily whispered. "The news... they're not saying much right now, focusing in on the rescue efforts. Probably don't want to make any announcements until it's been confirmed." She pulled away, snatching up the files from my desk. "I'll take the meeting. You stay here, do what you need to do. I'll tell everyone to leave you the hell alone, or they'll have to answer to me."

Before I could argue the case, she was gone, closing the door behind her. I looked through the glass window facing out into the kitchen and watched her pause by the kitchen door, talking to Alex—our head baker. I couldn't hear what she said, but from the way she planted one hand on her hip, pointing back at my office, I suspected I wouldn't be interrupted for anything less than an incoming nuclear attack. And even that would have to go through Lily first.

Lily headed down the hall, and I turned back to the horror being broadcast live on my screen.

A cold greasy ball of fear rolled around my stomach. The reporter remained in front of the still-smoking structure, her cameraman broadcasting the rescue efforts going on behind her. In lieu of any updates, she began rattling off facts, most of which I already knew.

Ansulenia is one of those small countries in Europe you drive through in less than an hour, stuck at the intersection of two mountain ranges, and thus controlling both. Made it a great place for trading in the old days—not so much now. The tiny kingdom survived through the ages, cutting deals left and right like its nearby cousin, Switzerland. Decades ago, the King and his family spied the writing on the wall when it came to ruling the country—the time of royalty ruling the masses had passed. In a quiet and dignified surrender of power, Ansulenia evolved into a constitutional democracy much along the lines of the United Kingdom, the Prime Minister and elected officials running the show while the Royal Family moved into the background, bringing in tourism money and keeping their history alive.

The scrolling banners across the bottom of the screen explained the theater had been reserved for a charity event, the Royal Family in attendance to support the cause. Lily's first reaction was to think terrorism—the chyron noted there was no proof of that yet, unwilling to lay the blame yet on any specific group.

It didn't matter. People were still dead and dying.

All I could do was watch as the first responders raced back and forth, carrying people out of the still-burning structure as the reporter continued to go through a list of everyone who had been there from charity leaders to schoolchildren to the members of the Ansulenian monarchy.

Including Teddy...