Philippa slanted her a look. “We just finished our last mission an hour ago.”
“And I would have expired from ennui in the meantime, had Miss de Heusch not graciously answered my blade with her own, and—” Elizabeth stopped. “Is it not ‘Miss’ de Heusch? Philippa, what was the word that you said?Juff…I want to get it right.”
“Juffrouw,” Philippa replied, sending Kuni another anxious look.
“That is accurate. But you may call me Kunigunde.”
Kuni rarely gave permission to use her first name to anyone but close friends, like Mechtilda and the other companions. Not that Kuni’s traditional Balcovian name would be any easier for foreigners. She waited for the inevitable confusion.
Their smiles simply grew larger.
“Welcome, Kunigunde. Please, you must call me Jacob.”
The other siblings responded in kind.
“Tommy.”
“Philippa.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Marjorie.”
Mr. Wynchester bowed deeply. “And Graham at your service, Your Highness.”
“He would be,” Elizabeth said. “Graham is obsessed with royalty from all countries. It has long been his life’s dream to rescue a princess.”
“I am not a princess,” Kuni said quickly. She wished she could also negate that she had required rescuing.
“Graham no doubt already knew that, too,” said Tommy. “He knows everything that happens in England, at least. You mightthinkthe wall of books behind me is a library—”
“I certainly jumped to that conclusion,” Philippa said.
“—but these and the albums upstairs contain the intelligence Graham has gathered from every corner of London.”
“I had help,” he said modestly. “My files would not be half so thorough without an equally dense network of spies and informants. I would also have a book on Balcovia if any of us had ever visited.”
“Or if Bean had talked about it,” Marjorie added. “I wish he would have taught us more than a few phrases.”
“Graham will create an album about you next, Kunigunde,” Elizabeth warned. “If he hasn’t already.”
Graham tilted down the edge of his lapel. The corner of a small, thin journal peeked out.
“Weallwant to know about Balcovia.” Marjorie pressed her paint-streaked hands together. “I have a hundred questions, which means Graham must have thousands.”
Kuni swallowed nervously. Following the Wynchester siblings’ rapid-fire conversation was enough to make her head swim.
“Let’s give our guest a chance to acclimate first, shall we?” Graham smiled into Kuni’s eyes. He lifted his hand, and his fingertips lightly brushed her arm.
Kuni felt the effect of both all the way to her core.
“I don’t mind.” A Royal Guard would not fear a simple conversation. “I can try to answer a few questions.”
“At least sit.” Graham motioned toward the crescent of chairs and sofas.
She looked at all the siblings, then all the chairs, then back to Graham.
“Sit next to me?” she whispered impulsively, then wished she hadn’t. A Royal Guard did not depend on someone else. She was a perfectly capable, solitary soldier.
