“So he’s the reason you have to return?”
“He is part of it,” he replied, still stuck on an unspoken thought. Together they unwrapped the dining set with box cutters, shredding off pieces of thick industrial plastic as music from the radio streamed out of speakers mounted to the exterior walls of the house.
“So what or who else is it?” she asked, hoping to gently prod more information from him. It was unreal to her that a place that sounded so modern and advanced would be ruled by something as archaic as a monarchy. She’d read plenty of history books on English and French monarchies from hundreds of years ago, and even had a brief fascination with Marie Antoinette, the last Queen of France. Taken from her home at a young age and forced to assimilate perfectly into a foreign culture, the little princess from Austria endured ridicule, sparked fascination, and lived in unprecedented luxury before becoming the nation’s scapegoat and later killed. Zoe didn’t envy her at all.
“The Queen. Kyra Straton.”
Owyn and Kyra Straton. Zoe imagined they were short and old, stuffy and crisp, not unlike some other monarchies she read about. Evan alleged that he had grown up with the King, which meant that the monarchs were young, possibly close to her age.
“What is she like?” Zoe wondered aloud as they moved the dining set to the pergola to join the grill. Marie Antoinette came to mind again with her big hair and stiff hooped dress.
”Like a Queen,” he muttered.
“Sounds like you don’t like her,” Zoe observed. “What does she do while the King is ruling over Terra?”
Evan looked up from the cuts he was making into the plastic covered dining set. “You mean that the other way around?” he asked. His tone surprised her.
“What do you mean?”
“The King doesn’t rule Terra. The Queen does.”
“Well that’s different,” she retorted. She had never heard of such a thing. In all the history books she’d read the King was always the highest rank in a monarchy. If an heir was female and took the title of Queen, her husband would never be titled as King so as to not outrank her. However progressive that may have been in a modern monarchy, she knew it was and would always be a man’s role. Terra, by comparison, wasn’t sounding so bad.
“How did that come about?” she asked. “I mean that’s so different from countries here that still have a monarchy, whether they rule or not.” They unwrapped the chairs and started bringing them to the dining table one-by-one.
“That’s just the way it’s always been. The previous Queen and King ruled jointly but she still technically outranked him. When Kyra and Owyn were crowned, Kyra took on all the responsibilities and Owyn just sort of benefited from the spoils of their riches. Truthfully, I don’t think he cares one way or another.”
“So then if you’re his advisor why does the Queen need you back home? Do you advise for her too?”
Evan’s back straightened as he put the last chair at the table. “Not officially,” he answered briskly.
What does that even mean? Judging by the scowl on his face he didn’t seem to like talking about the Queen and King.
He stopped for a moment and stared down at something in his hands. Though, he looked like he was considering something else all together. “The Queen uses me in other ways,” he finally responded before walking back to the shrinking pile of furniture. Zoe followed him slowly and considered his words. Perhaps it was time to change the subject.
“So where was the first place you visited outside of home? The first place like here?” That seemed to do the trick. He told her stories of other universes as they went through each piece of furniture and placed them throughout the outdoor space. Lounging chairs with pillows were situated around an in-ground stone fireplace. Chaise lounges were set up beside the pool with umbrellas creating a blanket of shade. Evan installed a small crystal chandelier beneath the center of the pergola, wiring it into the electrical unit built into the structure. By the time all the furniture was set up Evan had told her about no less than four universes and seemed like his usual self again. The stories sounded more like fairytales than personal recollections, and after a while it just seemed easier to pretend that they were fairytales so she didn’t have to wrap her mind around such a complicated subject.
“I’m going to grab some trash bags for all this stuff,” Zoe said while motioning to the pile of thick plastic. She headed inside and grabbed a large black garbage bag from underneath the sink. When she returned Evan was nowhere to be seen. Sitting on the dining table was the glass device and keys, his shirt draped over one of the chairs. She nearly jumped when his head emerged from underneath the surface of the pool as came up for air.