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“Your Majesty,” Zara said, her voice was as small as a child’s. Alma nodded to herself. The King had come to the laundry for Zara.
“I need you to wash my shirt and have it in my quarters by tonight. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all, your Majesty.”
“I will also need a shirt to change into right now.”
> “Please, follow me.” Zara bowed her head and led the King out of the room. They went into the sewing area where there were changing rooms. “Please wait in here whilst I get you a new shirt.” Zara scrambled out of the room.
Zara gaped at the selection of shirts before her. How was she to choose a shirt for the King? She grabbed a few and delivered them to the King. It was better to let him pick for himself. She could not possibly know what he would prefer or suit him best.
“You are always in some sort of panic mode when I am around you,” the King said to Zara as she presented the shirts to him.
“Erm…it's just that…well…you're the King!” Zara could barely string a sentence properly with the King unbuttoning his shirt. She felt her cheeks turn red. “Would you like some privacy?”
“No.”
Zara looked at the ground. It was extremely awkward for her. “Why did you not send for one of the maids to come to you?”
“There is nothing wrong with me coming here myself.” The King put the shirt on the table. “Which shirt should I wear?”
“Whichever you please, your Majesty.”
“I am asking, which you think would be better.”
Zara looked at the shirts once more and picked out a burgundy shirt for him. She told him that she thought it would be a nice colour on him. She bowed her head and handed him the shirt. The King took it from her as he looked at her in amusement. He could see that she was very shy around him. After he was dressed, he reminded her to wash and bring his shirt to his quarters this evening. She nodded in agreement.
The laundry maids gaped at the King as he left the laundry. After he left, they swarmed around Zara and asked her if he spoke much to her. They all wished it were them he had asked to prepare his shirt.
Chapter 7
Rachael pulled Zara to the side to question her about the King. She made sure that all the other maids had returned to their stations before she questioned her friend. “Why did the King pick you?” Rachael whispered.
“I don't know,” Zara whispered back. She earnestly did not know why he picked her or why he came to the laundry himself.
“Lies!” it came out louder than she had anticipated. Rachael cleared her throat and returned to whispering. “The King would not pick you at random like that. What aren't you telling me?”
Zara was silent for a moment. She had an idea of why he would pick her. Maybe it had something to do with their recent acquaintance. She took Rachael's hand and led her outside where the other maids would not hear them. She had not told Rachael about the King and she was dying to tell her. The only person who knew was her little sister. Zara took a deep breath.
“You have to promise me you won't say anything to anyone.”
“Come on, Zara, you know I would not tell. This palace may be large but news travels fast and maids are malicious.”
Zara nodded. Indeed the maids were malicious. She told Rachael everything from the first time she spoke to the King to that afternoon's events. Rachael stared at Zara with her mouth wide open. She could not believe her ears. How could her friend not have told her all this? She whacked Zara's arm and complained for not being told sooner.
Rachael made Zara promise to keep her updated in the future. This was a big deal. She could not simply keep it to herself. Zara nodded and promised to tell. Rachael was excited for Zara; the girl needed something good in her life. Since she quit school, she still had to pay back her school loans and look after her mother and sister. Her mother had been too sick to work. Life in the palace laundry had not been so kind to her either. The other maids were not friendly. It was about time her luck turned around. Zara did not know what to think or what the King wanted from her. Perhaps she was an amusement for the time being. Either way, she was not going to take it for more than it was for she wanted nothing from the King.
Later that evening, Zara had a difficult time finding the King's quarters. Since coming to work at the palace, she’d kept to the laundry facilities and palace gardens. Everywhere else had felt off limits to her. She had toured parts of the palace when she first arrived, but it wasn’t as if there were maps posted on the walls and she was too embarrassed to ask for assistance. Finally, after she felt as if she had walked the entire palace twice, she found her way to his private wing. After she gave her name to one of the guards, she walked into his suite. She turned around slowly as she took in her surroundings. The floors were tiled in the most exquisite and elaborate cream-coloured marble with onyx trim. The vaulted ceilings curved like barrels as chandeliers cast twinkling diamond patterns on the walls. As Zara looked around what seemed to be the living room, she took in the plush furnishings done up in gold and cream. Zara noticed that there was not one thing out of place, as she thought of her own well-lived home filled with the daily activities of her little sister.
“Zara,” the King said as he entered the room. She turned around and bowed her head to him.
“Good evening, your Majesty.”
“And how are you this evening?”
“I am well, thank you. I've brought your shirt,” she said as she handed it to him. He took it with half a smile on his face. She was so innocent. She thought that he really wanted her to clean his shirt. She had not entertained the thought that it was an excuse to see her. He put the neatly ironed and folded shirt on the sofa.
“Join me for dinner,” the King said.
