a princess in u-town (part three)

This story started here.

 
"The princess is staying in a hotel in the city," Ana explained. "When I'm sure the necessary arrangements are made here, I will return to the city, and then I'll accompany the princess when she comes here tomorrow."

"We've set aside a room -- one of our better rooms -- for the princess. How many are there in her party?"

"Just the two of us, and a man who is responsible for her safety. He will need a room adjoining hers, with a connecting door. Will that be possible?"

"Of course. And a separate room for you?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Do you know how long the princess will be staying?"

Ana shrugged an expressive shrug. "I do not know her plans to that extent. Is it--"

"She will be welcome for as long as she wishes to stay. As our guest, of course."

Ana smiled, briefly but with some amount of feeling, probably mostly because my employer had managed to settle the question of money without anybody having to mention it explicitly.

 
The following morning we sat expectantly in the hotel lobby. We were sipping coffee and my employer was smoking.

Vicki was not there. As the head of our government (and also our head of state -- as my employer had pointed out, to Vicki's complete indifference), she had more important things to do than sit around all morning, and maybe part of the afternoon as well, waiting for a guest with a title but no actual authority.

So, we sat, comfortably, waiting.

Then, by complete coincidence, it was lunchtime, and Vicki and Pat were crossing the lobby together, holding hands, headed to the dining room, when the revolving door admitted a stern-faced man in a dark suit and mirror sunglasses.

He might just as well have been wearing a sign that said, "I am handling security for somebody important."

My employer took her cane and got to her feet.

Vicki saw the man, stopped, and whispered something to Pat. She had not been going to wait around all day to receive our visitor, but it would have been childish for her to hurry out of the room in order to deliberately miss her arrival.

And Vicki, though not yet twenty when these events took place, was never childish, particularly in her official capacity.

She caught my eye, aware that I knew why she was waiting, and reached up to her throat to make a motion to adjust her tie, exactly as my employer, oblivious to this byplay, was adjusting her own tie.

Vicki, of course, wore no tie. As on pretty much every day since I'd met her, she was wearing a black T-shirt, black jeans, black high-top sneakers, and a black leather jacket.

The security man, having apparently reassured himself that no immediate dangers were lurking in the lobby, went back out through the revolving door, which immediately admitted two women. He followed, trying to look unobtrusive.

Princess Valeria stood motionless for a moment, as blank-faced as her bodyguard. Ana was at her elbow.

I had a momentary image of the princess looking slowly around at the state of the lobby, the furniture, and the inhabitants, and turning to leave, perhaps muttering, loudly, "What the hell was I thinking?"

But, no, she took off her sunglasses and started to move in the direction of my employer.

 
More to come...

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