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And Elin had. Her face was strong and stoic but also somehow empathetic and compassionate. Elin was going to make an amazing Queen. Ingrid would love the opportunity to work with her in that new role, but she’d have to wait. She wondered exactly at Markus’s age as she tucked her computer away for the night. He likely had eight to ten years left. And it felt like such a long time to wait; Ingrid wasn’t sure it would be worth it.
Elin would be well into her life as Queen. She’d be married by then; hopefully, to a man of her choosing. And maybe she’d change her mind about having children. Ingrid doubted it, though. The times they’d talked about it, Elin had been pretty firm in her decision. Either way, she’d be settled into the job, and Ingrid wasn’t sure what she’d be able to offer her then. She’d focus on Mari right now.
Mari wanted to leave for graduate school as soon as she could, but in the meantime, there was work to be done now that the line had shifted. She had more obligations than ever, and that meant there was work for Ingrid to do. Ingrid wanted to stay busy. It helped keep her mind off of… well, everything.
???
When Ingrid arrived at her office the next morning, she sat in her chair and leaned back a bit, trying to make herself as comfortable as she could in her new permanent surroundings. She glanced down at her trash can and noticed a folded piece of paper with her name written on it on the outside. Ingrid knew that handwriting. She leaned down and picked it up, opening it and reading to herself.
Today has been absolutely crazy. Any chance you could take a break with me and join me in the kitchen for a coffee or tea later?
Elin had expected her to be here yesterday. Ingrid closed her eyes, her heart breaking a little that she hadn’t been here when Elin had needed her most. Then again, Elin would have to get used to her not being around – Markus was her secretary now, and she’d have to start getting used to that at some point.
“Hello. Miss Olson?” someone said at her office door.
“Yes, that’s me,” she replied, closing the note and tucking it safely into the breast pocket of her navy blazer.
“My name is Mary Margaret. I’m the palace decorator in charge of the offices.”
“Oh. Hello,” Ingrid replied, standing up and walking to the door to shake the woman’s hand. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been instructed to meet with you and make any alterations you’d like to your office.”
“My office?”
“Yes, I was told to have the extra desk removed, replace it with a chair or a sofa – whichever you’d prefer, and to get you some more light in here if possible – which, it is. The window is small, but you get great sun exposure.”
“I’m sorry. Who ordered you to–”
“Her Majesty, the Queen,” Mary Margaret interrupted. “I’m happy to show you some fabric or paint samples or just to create an overall plan for you to approve. Whichever you’d prefer.”
“The Queen asked you to redecorate my office?”
“When the Queen says to do something, I don’t think she’sasking,” the woman said, winking. “But we can easily get this desk out of here for you to start today and work on the rest later.”
“Where is my office mate going to sit?” Ingrid asked.
“I don’t believe you’re getting one. I’ve been told this is to just be your office moving forward, and you’re to approve all design decisions.”
“I didn’t know,” Ingrid said.
“Would you like me to come back with samples?” the decorator asked.
“I suppose that would be fine,” Ingrid replied.
“I’ll be back after lunch, if that’s all right with you. I have some really great UV-lamp recommendations that are fantastic for the winter. You’ll get your vitamin D without having to leave the office. I know how hard you secretaries work around here.”
“Thank you,” Ingrid said, smiling at her.
???
“Markus, can I possibly get an audience with Her Majesty today?”
“Ingrid, she became Queen yesterday – she’ll be completely booked for the next year, at least,” he replied.
“I know. I was just–”
“Ingrid?”
