“Love you, too.”
I hang up, and a small sigh escapes me. Why am I already missing home? It’s only been twenty-four hours since I left.
“Is that coffee I smell?” I ask.
“It is,” Anya replies.
I pour myself a cup and take a grateful sip. The coffee is divine, which is a small miracle, consideringLedonians seem to worship tea the way we Elkevikians worship warm socks in winter.
“Princess Francesca sent a message,” Anya says. “She’d like to breakfast with you in the conservatory at nine.”
“Well, that sounds lovely, but isn’tthisbreakfast?” I ask, eyeing the feast.
“Oh, they like to feed you here. It’s a Ledonian thing, I’m told.”
I tuck a napkin into the neck of my nightdress. “Well, we can’t disappoint them, can we? Sit with me and eat. There’s plenty of food.”
“Oh, my gosh! Is that your ring?” she asks in excitement, grabbing my hand to inspect it. “It’s gorgeous! And fricking huge!”
“It’s certainly impressive.” She’s still clasping my hand, admiring the ring from all angles. “Do you think I could have my hand back? I’m starving.”
“Oops.” She releases my hand, and together we sit on my huge bed and dine on flaky pastries, rich coffee, scrambled eggs, and tiny herb-filled sausages. It’s all utterly delicious, and even Anya’s questions about the proposal barely even bother me.
After we’ve finished eating and I’ve dressed in what I hope is an acceptable outfit, I slide my feet into another pair of high heels and feel a soft yearning for my Wellington boots. I would swelter in those here in the heat of Ledonia.
I make my way down to the private family living area, getting lost only once, which is a new personal best. I knock, then push the door open. Several of the Labradors from yesterday bound over to me, tails wagging, and I crouch down to greet every one of them as Francesca grins at me from across the room.
“Astrid! You found me. I was worried you’d end up in the glasshouse again.”
“I think I need to invest in a compass,” I say, scratching behind a Labrador’s ear, “Although I have absolutely no idea how to use one.”
She greets me with a hug, her floral perfume filling the air. “Sit. I have tea and pastries, but if you want something more substantial?—?”
“Tea is perfect. I’ve already had a huge breakfast delivered to my room.”
We sit at a small table covered in a linen tablecloth, with an elegant teapot, and plate of pastries, and a vase of red roses at its center.
“Oh, that’s my parents for you. They think guests need feeding up when they come to the palace. They probably think you need feeding up. You could eat with the rest of us in the breakfast room, if you prefer.”
My mind immediately darts to the spilled tea incident yesterday. “I might stick with a tray in my room for now.”
She leans forward. “So, how are you finding things? And I want the honest answer, not the diplomatic one where you tell me everything is wonderful.”
I consider lying. I consider saying everything is perfect. But something about Francesca’s open, genuine expression makes me want to tell her the truth. “I’m a little overwhelmed, I suppose. I’m trying to convince myself I haven’t made a mistake in agreeing to all of this.”
She blinks at me. “Well, that’s honest."
I shrug. “You said you wanted honesty.”
“I did, and I appreciate it. What’s going on? Is it Fred? Is he being all prickly? He’s like that at times, you know.”
“He started out telling me I’d done much better than he expected at the state dinner last night.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, Fred.”
“He then corrected himself and said I’d charmed everyone, but I wasn’t sure he meant it.”
Francesca closes her eyes and makes a noise like a groan. "Oh,of coursehe did. You know, he once told our mother that her Christmas jumper was ‘seasonally relevant.’ That’s Fred-speak for normal human communication. And he doesn’t lie. If he told you he thought you were charming, that’s what he really thought. I love my brother, but he has the emotional vocabulary of a constipated cow.”
