“We do,” she replies, and this time her lips curve into the smallest of smiles.
It’s not big, but it’s a smile.
And I’m absolutely going to take it.
“You’re very kind, ma’am, and I promise to do my best not to spill any more tea,” I say.
“Only the gossip variety, I hope,” she adds.
The King makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a suppressed laugh, and when I glance at him, his face has turned pink.Huh. Who knew a small tea disaster could make my future parents-in-law seem human?
I let out a relieved laugh, glancing toward Frederic.
Nope.
Definitelynotlaughing.
He is going to prove one hard nut to crack.
“I understand you work with several children’s charities in Elkevik, Astrid,” Queen Eleonora says. “That must be very rewarding.”
“Oh, it is. The hospital visits are my absolute favorite.Last month, when Frederic and I visited together, a little girl asked me if princesses really wear tiaras to bed.”
“What did you reply?” the King asks.
“I told her of course we do. So she wanted to wear one too. I had one delivered to her. Not a real one, of course. My parents wouldn’t allow that. Apparently, she wears it to bed every night.”
“How charming,” the King says. “Isn’t that charming, Frederic?”
“It is,” he grinds out, sounding like he regards my faux pas as distinctlyun-charming.
“You were at a hospital event when that photo of you and Frederic was taken last week,” the Queen adds. “You were dancing.”
“I wanted to cheer the children up, so I asked if someone could put on the radio, and luckily it was a fun song, and so I danced.”
“Did it do the trick?” the King asks.
“It most certainly did,” I reply with satisfaction. “Not all the children could dance with me, but many did. Your son seemed to enjoy it, too, although he didn’t dance,” I lead, sliding my gaze back to Frederic.
He clears his throat as though he’s about to speak, but doesn’t say a word. I imagine that if Frederic ever genuinely beamed the Ledonian National Anthem would spontaneously play across the country, and every subject would rise to their feet in applause.
“Tell me, Astrid, what did you think of the gardens when you visited earlier today?” the King asks.
“Oh, I thought they were marvelous,” I gush. “The trees and the flowers and the sculptures, and the plants in the glasshouse are just gorgeous. Your great-grandmother had excellent taste.”
“She did,” Queen Eleonora agrees. “We’re actually planning some work in the gardens,” she continues. “They’ve become rather overgrown.”
The garden looked nothing short of immaculate to me. But then, I’m not a member of this family, and I don’t see things the way they do. That’s becoming very clear.
“Have you considered adding more native plants?” I ask.
“Native?” the King questions.
“I know that sounds odd, but we did something like that in Elkevik a few years ago, and I was lucky enough to get involved in not only the planning but the planting as well.”
The King pulls his brows together. “You… planted the plants?”
“Yes,” I say brightly, because I did plant the plants, and I enjoyed it. “The thing is, we restored one of the palace gardens to completely indigenous species, and now it supports local wildlife and requires much less maintenance. Plus, it’s educational when children come to visit the palace. I often take them there so they can see what our country looked like before everything became farmland, when I’m not taking them to name chickens, that is.”
