“Thank you,” I say in reply.
“Is that a yes, dear?” the Queen asks.
“Yes, of course. Yes, I will marry you.” Then, to match his formality, because it feels appropriate for this odd moment, I add, “Prince Frederic of Ledonia.”
Frederic looks like he might pass out.
“Marvelous!” the Queen exclaims as she claps her hands together.
The King says, “Well done.”
Frederic, on the other hand, seems like a deer caught in headlights. He’s staring at me with a somewhat terrified look on his face.
“Are you all right?” I whisper.
“I’m… yes,” he replies. It’s unconvincing.
“Darling, give her the ring,” his mother instructs.
“The ring. Yes. Of course.” Frederic fumbles with the box, accidentally clicking it shut on one of his fingers. “Ouch!” he winces before he tries and fails to reopen it once more.
I reach out to steady his hand, wrapping my fingers around his. It feels like the right thing to do to calm him. His eyes dart to mine, and the worry lines etched on his forehead softens a touch.
“You’re doing great,” I whisper and offer him a smile. The poor man is only trying to do the right thing here, even if it’s quite possibly the least romantic proposal in history. The least I can do is help him out.
“I’m not, but thank you,” he replies with a lift of his impressive chin.
I pull my hand away and this time, he successfully opens the box, pulls out the ring, and then takes my hand in his.
“Other hand, son,” the King instructs, and both the King and Queen smirk.
“Your father’s correct. It’s my left hand,” I say, proffering it. “It’s the finger next to the pinkie,” I add under my breath, just in case he was going to try to ram it onto my thumb.
With shaking hands, he successfully slides the ring onto the correct finger, and before he has the chance to pull away, I clasp his hand with both of mine and look up into his beautiful chocolate eyes. “Thank you, Fred. It’s just lovely.”
“You’re very welcome,” he mutters, looking somewhere behind my head.
Both his parents applaud as they rise to their feet.
“Well done, you two,” the King says, shaking hands with his son, who’s still on one knee, before planting a kiss on my cheek.
The Queen kisses my other cheek. “Welcome to the family, Astrid.”.
I clasp my left hand, feeling the unfamiliar diamonds as they dig into my palm. “Thank you so much.”
Eventually, the meeting ends, I say goodbye to the King and Queen, and Frederic escorts me back to my room.
“On a scale of one to ten, how badly did I do?” I ask. “And please factor in the tea assault on your mother. I need full honesty here, Fred.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I brace myself for the worst.
Finally he says, “You were yourself, Astrid.”
Andthat, people, is how to answer a question without really answering it at all. Frederic seems to be very good at that particular skill.
“Is that good or bad?” I press.
Another pause. “I don’t know yet,” he replies, his dark eyes settling on mine.
