“It’ll work,” Tommy said. “The Throckmortens see nothing wrong with what they do. They will adore being singled out by royalty as a shining example of English superiority.”
“Thereisthe slight detail of a Balcovian princess needing a Balcovian accent,” Jacob pointed out.
“I know where to find one.” Chloe sent Kuni a meaningful look.
Kuni blinked in alarm, then turned to Graham.
He was also gazing at her expectantly.
“No,” she said. “Under no conditions.”
Tommy tapped her jaw. “I could alter a costume.”
“Kunigunde would make a wonderful princess,” Marjorie agreed.
“Kunigunde,” Kuni said, “would get the guillotine.”
“Pah.” Tommy waved this away. “You don’t have to impersonate an actual royal. Invent a new princess. The Throckmortens can’t find Balcovia on a map. They won’t have any idea what the royal heirs are called.”
“Actually,” said Graham, “it’s best if we stick as close to the truth as possible. The scandal columnshavementioned the names of the royal family, but they have not published any likenesses or mentioned any descriptions.”
“Because they don’t have any,” Marjorie said. “The Balcovian royal family hasn’t been to England since before the war began. It’s been almost two decades. Princess Mechtilda could be any of us.”
Tommy leaned toward Kuni encouragingly. “It’ll be simple. Just talk at them in Balcovian and look disdainful. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“I will not impersonate my royal princess,” Kuni enunciated. “If it is so simple, why don’t you do it?”
“I would,” Tommy answered with feeling. “But I am dreadful at foreign accents.”
“I will do it,” Elizabeth said in a perfect Balcovian accent. “I’ve been destined to be a princess ever since my noble birth on the banks of Sint-Maartensdijk.”
Kuni stared, impressed. Elizabeth hadn’t copied Kuni’s speech pattern. Her accent was more…southern.
“Are you certain?” Chloe asked. “It’s a long carriage ride.”
“I can keep my joints limber if the journey could take five days in each direction instead of two,” Elizabeth replied, still using the Balcovian accent.
“Done.” Graham brushed his hands. “Now, on to the question of—”
“Your accent is impeccable,” Kuni blurted out. “How are you managing to—”
“This is our father’s voice.” This time, the tone was rich and deep.
“At least it was the summer we were first adopted,” Graham explained. “Baron Vanderbean was recently arrived in England. His knowledge of the language was not nearly as good as yours, and his accent quite thick. As his English improved, his accent receded. By the end, one scarcely noticed.”
“I can do all the versions,” Elizabeth said. “But I think this expedition calls for Maximum Bean.”
“Not Bean,” Marjorie said. “Maximum princess.”
Graham grinned at Kuni. “As long as Elizabeth is everything they expect her to be—and more—they won’t question a thing.”
“What do they expect her to be?” Kuni asked suspiciously.
“Backward,” Graham admitted. “You think your country is the greatest on earth. Our countrymen have the same opinion of our own. Most will have only heard of Balcovia from gossip columns, if at all. Balcovia is not a place one travels to for the cuisine, like Florence—”
“We have excellent food,” Kuni said with indignation.
“—or copy their fashion, like Paris—”
