The Reluctant Duchess Ch. 05

"Where do you want me?" he asked.

Sophie gave him her naughtiest smile and said, "We really can't discuss that now. But as far as I'm concerned, you can stand with me."

Charlotte Marie shook her head. "No, Sophie, that would not be appropriate."

Sophie realized that this was not a fight worth having on Christmas, so she shrugged and said, "Mark, just make yourself at home." She waved her arms to signal that he had free run of the palace.

"That's fine, Sophie, Duchess. I'm sure that I can keep myself occupied." He wished Johanna a Merry Christmas and headed away from Sophie.

Mark walked to the side of the room so that he could watch the proceedings as the doors opened and the people began to enter. For the most part, the somewhat star-struck visitors simply shook the two women's hands, and maybe exchanged some pleasantries. In a few cases, the visitor was known to either Charlotte Marie or Sophie, or both, and that resulted in air kisses and more extensive chatter. Every once in a while, someone asked for a selfie, or a picture of Sophie holding a baby, which they indulged. A few people even pointed at him and whispered as they passed where he was standing. Mark noticed that Sophie actually seemed to be enjoying herself, or at least was putting on a good front.

Mark's observation was interrupted by his stomach growling loudly, and he realized that he hadn't had anything to eat. Following the crowd out of the parlor, he found himself in another room filled with people chattering away happily in the Klippenbergish dialect that he couldn't understand, and eating from the various meats, cheeses, fish and cakes that were on tables around the room. He found some coffee and took a selection of ham and cheeses with some bread and mustard, and satisfied his immediate hunger.

Looking around the room, he noticed Dieter Rohm, who he knew from the Fund, and walked over to say hello. Dieter, a short, pleasant man a few years older than Mark, was an expert in energy issues, and after exchanging Christmas greetings, Dieter introduced Mark to his wife, Lena and daughter Anja, who was stuffing her little face with cake.

"Mark, this is your first Christmas in Klippenberg, right?" Dieter asked.

"That's right. It's fun."

Lena smiled mischievously, "It must be fun spending it in the palace with the Grand Duchess."

Dieter shot his wife a look, but she smiled back at him to signal that no harm was meant.

Laughing, Mark replied, "I guess so. But it really is beautiful here, and I like the traditions. I mean, I miss my family and all, but how could I pass up this opportunity?"

At this point, Anja was pulling on her mother's arm impatiently.

Dieter noticed his daughter's behavior. "Mark, I think my daughter has had enough time in the palace. And more than enough cake. We should take her home. It was good seeing you."

"And you too, Dieter. Merry Christmas, and to you, Lena and Anja."

They turned and left. Scanning the room, Mark didn't see anyone else he knew. He grabbed a small pastry and wandered back into the parlor where the line continued unabated. Sophie still looked like she was enjoying herself. He caught her eye and smiled, and she smiled back, briefly shaking her right hand, as if to say that it was getting sore. Shrugging, he wandered into the dining room, where more food was set out, and people were chatting and eating. Seeing nobody he knew, Mark went through the service door, down the stairs and into the kitchen, curious to see if it was anything like the kitchen in Downton Abbey.

Meanwhile, Sophie was beginning to tire of her obligation. She had shaken more hands than she had ever shaken in her life and held more writhing babies than she cared for. But there had been some great moments, too. So many of the people expressed support for her, even love, and confidence in her abilities. Of course, many people wanted to talk about her father and brothers, and expressed real sadness at their loss, which was difficult for her and Charlotte Marie. And when she saw friends that she hadn't seen since she had returned, it was nice to briefly catch up with them. Occasionally, Jo would whisper in her ear to point out a person of note so that she could greet them personally.

Periodically, Hans would bring them food and drinks, starting with soft drinks and juice in the morning, but switching to wine after midday, which helped Sophie's mood considerably.

*

Down in the kitchen, there was a flurry of activity, as dirty dishes and glassware were being cleared and clean ones were being brought out to replace them. Empty trays of food were being cleared and replaced, and fresh coffee and tea were also being provided. Kurt, the talented chef, who Mark had briefly met once, was barking orders to the staff. Mark watched the work, feeling alone and missing his family. After a few minutes, an older woman in an apron and cap approached him.

"You're Mark, the Grand Duchess' boyfriend, right?"

"I guess so." He stuck out his hand and the woman shook it. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you. I'm Greta Stahl, the kitchen manager. What can we do for you?"

"Nothing. Sophie's greeting people. I'm bored and wandering around the palace."

"We're working here, Mark, you know it isn't a show."

Mark felt himself blush. Of course the staff didn't want him there. He was one of "them." "I'm sorry. I just like kitchens. My family runs a restaurant, and I grew up working in them."

Greta's face softened. "Really?"

"Yeah." He looked around. "Actually, could I help out?"

Greta's eyes narrowed. "You'd want to do that?"

"Sure. Whatever you want. I've washed my share of dirty dishes."

"Fine. Suit yourself. Go help Franz over there with the meat trays."

"Sure thing. Can I get an apron? This is a new shirt," Mark replied, smiling.

Greta turned to a younger woman and said something to her in German. Within seconds, a white, industrial apron appeared, and Mark took off his suit jacket, tossed it on a chair in a safe-looking area and put on the apron. He removed the cufflinks and carefully put them in his pockets, rolled up his sleeves and reported to Franz for instructions.

*

It was late afternoon, and beginning to get dark outside when the last visitor left the palace, and Sophie and her mother could finally rest. She was exhausted, but also exhilarated. Based on the referendum vote, she understood that the people of Klippenburg supported the institution of the monarchy, and even her as the symbol of the dynasty, but she was overwhelmed by the love and strong feelings of support that were expressed personally to her during the day. She knew, of course, that those who weren't fans of her or the Grand Ducal system probably didn't choose to spend the day waiting in line for a brief audience and some free food, but still, she knew that it was a rare thing to experience.

She needed to get out of her dress and find Mark. Telling Johanna to go home and enjoy her evening, Sophie pulled out her phone, and texted him—"Where are u? I'm done."

A few seconds later, her phone chimed. "In kitchen. Almost done. Where should I meet u?"

Sophie stared at the screen. Mark was in the kitchen? Almost done? Despite her sore feet, Sophie began to stride purposefully toward the dining room, through the service doors and down the stairs to the kitchen, a place she hadn't visited during working hours since she was a child. A couple of times, late at night, after smoking some weed, she and her friends had rummaged around the empty kitchen for snacks, but there was no one around. As she hit the last step, the workers, furiously cleaning and putting food away so they could spend the rest of Christmas Day with their families, began to stop, shocked at the identity of their new visitor.

"Mark, what are you doing?" she asked, seeing him, hair askew, in a dirty apron, cleaning a serving tray.

"I'm cleaning a serving tray, Sophie. What does it look like I'm doing?" Mark responded, smiling.

"Why?

"Because it's dirty. You wouldn't want Your Higness' serving tray put away dirty, would you?" He smiled again, to show that he was joking, and to make it clear to the otherwise petrified staff that it was OK to tease the Grand Duchess.

"Fair point, Mark," she replied, laughing. Walking toward him, she said, "Do you have a towel? And another apron? I wouldn't want to ruin this dress—it was a Christmas gift from Mother."

A still confused Greta approached Sophie with the apron and towel. Donning the apron, Sophie reached out to Mark, who handed her the tray to dry. Turning toward the rest of the workers, she said, "Don't you people want to get home? Then stop standing around." When no one moved, she said, "Do you think that I've never dried dishes before? Do you think I had a staff in my apartment in New York?"

As everyone returned to work, Mark whispered to Sophie, "Didn't you have staff in New York?"

She smiled slyly. "Of course, I did. But sometimes I did have to clean something." She put down the tray and started drying the next one that Mark handed her.

After about fifteen minutes of work, Sophie turned to Mark and said, "Look, this is fun, but my feet are killing me, and I need to lie down. Preferably with you next to me."

"This is the last one, Sophie," as Mark handed her a platter for drying. Her hair was beginning to come loose, and she had a slight sheen of sweat on her face, which Mark found charming.

After finishing her work, Sophie turned to everyone and wished them a Merry Christmas in Klippenbergish, took Mark's hand, and headed for the stairs. As she did, a hearty cheer followed them.

*

Sophie's hands pressed against the cool tile walls as hot, soothing water flowed down her back, and Mark's cock plunged into her from behind, his hands holding onto her breasts as if for dear life. Despite the weariness she felt from spending the day greeting what she still had trouble considering her "subjects," at that moment she was happy. Mark had learned what she liked, and enjoyed giving it to her, and in the shower, from behind, she liked it hard. Breathing hard, Mark rapidly thrust himself forward, deep into her, as Sophie angled her hips to maximize her pleasure. She felt herself getting warmer, despite the fact that the water temperature hadn't changed, and she began pushing herself backwards against Mark's hips, urging him on. Somehow, he found a faster speed, and nearly out of control, he slammed his cock into her, and mauled her breasts. Sophie was beginning to tingle, from her rock hard nipples, to her pussy, and she began to moan, which only encouraged Mark, who sped up his fucking, and reached down, with his right hand, to rub Sophie's throbbing clit, which sent her into an orgasm that buckled her knees. Mark held Sophie up so that she didn't collapse on the shower floor, while his cock exploded, and he fought not to fall himself. Spent and panting, they were able to return to standing, and Sophie turned, kissed Mark, and pressed her head against his strong chest, as the steaming water flowed over them.

After another rinse and drying off, they ended up back in Sophie's bed for another round. Cuddling afterwards, Mark laughed when Sophie's stomach growled.

"Hungry?"

"I guess that I didn't eat as much as I thought."

"I could eat, too. Let's get some food."

"Ugh," Sophie responded, "everybody in the kitchen has probably gone home for Christmas, so we can't ask them to send up a tray."

Mark chuckled. "I know that there's lots of food left over—I helped put some of it away. Let's go downstairs and make ourselves dinner."

"I don't see why not. Apparently, you're handy in the kitchen."

"I'm OK."

"Are you better or worse in the kitchen than you are in the bedroom...or the shower?" Sophie asked.

"I guess you'll have to be the judge of that." Mark's stomach growled. "Yeah, let's go."

Putting on casual clothing, they made their way to the kitchen through the deserted, but festively lit and decorated hallways. The refrigerator was filled with meats, cheeses, and enough other food to feed a large party, much less the two of them.

Mark made two ham and cheese sandwiches, and found a container of potato salad, and they wolfed them down, washed down with some cold white wine that was also in the refrigerator, before returning to bed.

*

When Mark woke up the next morning, Sophie was not in bed, and was nowhere to be found in the room. Unsure of whether there were any events planned for the day, he dressed casually but neatly and headed to the dining room to get breakfast, hoping that Sophie would be there. As he approached the room, he saw Johanna waiting outside the door, apparently not wanting to enter. He could hear Sophie yelling, but he couldn't understand what they were saying in Klippenberghish.

As he approached, Jo put her finger up to her lips to indicate he should be quiet.

"Jo, what's going on," Mark whispered.

"They're fighting. About you," she replied softly.

"What are they saying?"

Jo began to translate, in a whisper:

"So what, Mother? He was bored and went to the kitchen and did some dishes?"

"You are better than a dishwasher, Sophie. He's a nice boy, Sophie, but you are wasting your time."

"That's ridiculous. I know the law says I have to marry a noble, but I told you I'm prepared to deal with that, if it ever got that serious—which it isn't yet. And he's not a 'dishwasher,' Mother—you know that he works at the Fund—but even if he was, it is no business of yours."

"You know what I mean, Sophie. He's beneath you, and unsuitable, no matter how thoughtful, or nice. I mean, he had you drying dishes. In front of the staff. How does that look? And just because he warms your bed, that doesn't make it right."

"As I said, Mother, my personal life is none of your business. I like Mark, I enjoy his company, he's smart, and makes me happy. Now, we need to stop this fighting because you won't convince me, and because he could be here any minute."

Mark heard Charlotte Marie sigh loudly, and then the sound of silverware hitting plates. Thanking Johanna, who entered the room hesitantly, Mark decided to walk around the palace for a few minutes before entering the room himself, so that they didn't suspect that he had listened in. As he walked, he considered what he had heard. Charlotte Marie thought he was a nice guy, but unsuitable for Sophie, because he wasn't a noble, and Sophie apparently needed to marry a noble. And Sophie told her mother that she liked him, but that it wasn't that serious—yet. The "yet" hung in his mind as he walked through the ornate, art covered halls of the palace.

Finally, arriving at the dining room, he found Sophie sitting alone, moving food around her plate and drinking coffee. "Hey."

Sophie looked at him. "Hey. Sorry to leave you alone, but I had promised my mother that I'd meet her for breakfast. It's zweite Weihnachtstag—what the English call 'Boxing Day,' and I know that she's missing my father and brothers. I am too, I guess."

"I'm sorry, Sophie. The holidays must be hard for you this year."

She took a sip of coffee. "And then we had a fight."

Mark feigned ignorance. "About what?" Before she could answer, a member of the staff entered the room to take Mark's breakfast order. "Um, Gunther, I'll just have some ham and eggs, and coffee, OK?"

"Sure, Mark." He left the room.

"On a first name basis with the staff, I see," Sophie asked, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Just another person trying to make a living," Mark replied, smiling back.

*

"God, Jo, I'd love to go out on New Year's Eve," Sophie remarked as they went over her reduced schedule during the last week of the year.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Sophie?"

The Grand Duchess looked sad as she responded, "No, probably not. What are you and Albert doing?"

"Oh, nothing special, Sophie," Johanna responded.

"I know you're lying, Jo. Spill."

"OK. Sophie. A bunch of us are going for dinner and dancing, and then we're going to watch the fireworks."

Sophie's face began to turn red as she realized that the person she considered her closest friend didn't even think about inviting her out for New Year's Eve. Before she could say anything, Jo realized what affect her words had on Sophie. "Um, we didn't think that you'd want to go with us. Security, and the distraction and all."

"You could have asked, Jo," Sophie responded in a disappointed voice. "You could have let me decide what I wanted."

"I guess I figured that you'd want to spend the night here, with Mark."

Sophie's temper began to flare. "I spend lots of nights with Mark. Mark's great, but he's not the only person I want to be with. It would have been nice to spend fucking New Year's Eve with some friends, too. But I guess I really don't have any real friends, do I?" Johanna winced as Sophie's words hit home. "This is fucking ridiculous, Jo. What kind of life is this? Trapped in the palace on the biggest party night of the year. Only one person is even willing to be with me, and that's because I fuck him." She stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

*

"Happy New Year, Janine," Sophie said into her phone.

"And to you, Sophie," replied the attractive young woman who always seemed to look like she was about to get into some sort of trouble.

"Thanks, Janine. How were your holidays?"

"Excellent. I spent Christmas in Bali with Alexi—he's the son of a Russian oil oligarch. Hot as fuck, and not afraid to share his father's wealth. And New Year's skiing in Cortina with—well, I'm not supposed to say, but he plays a superhero in the movies, and is one in bed, too. What about you, Sophie?"

"Not bad, really. Christmas was OK—I had to spend most of the day greeting my subjects—ugh, that word always sounds so terrible, doesn't it?" Janine shrugged and nodded. "I missed my father and brothers so much, though. I spent New Year's Eve in the palace with Mark, so that was kind of quiet.

"So, you and Mark are still a thing, then?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He moved here to work on the Fund, and we've been seeing each other a lot."

Janine looked surprised. "Just him? No one else?"

"That seems to be the case."

"Sophie, that doesn't sound like you."

"I know. With all of my responsibilities and all, I'm kind of stuck at home, and other than Mark, I think everyone in Klippenberg is afraid of me. Or they think I'm untouchable or something."

"If they only knew, right?" Janine replied, leering. Sophie laughed before Janine continued, "Look, you must be able to take a long weekend away from your precious 'subjects,' right?"

"I guess so."

"Then meet me in Berlin next weekend. We can party, get laid, whatever you want."

Sophie wasn't sure whether it made sense, but realized that she really needed a weekend away from Klippenberg, Jo, and even Mark. She needed to remember the fun person that she used to be, not long ago. "OK. Let me make the arrangements, and I'll get back to you."

Janine smiled broadly. "Great. I'll start setting things up, assuming that you, the ruler of your small but proud country, can arrange to be away for the weekend."

"Very funny. OK. I'll be in touch."

"I'm looking forward to this."

"Me, too, Janine. I really am." She disconnected the call.

The next day, she told Johanna of her plans.

"Really, Sophie? Do you think that's a good idea?" Jo tried to be careful—her relationship with Sophie had been strained by the New Year's Eve snub.

"Why not? I wouldn't be the first royal in history to sneak out for a weekend of fun, would I?"