The boy’s entire face lights up, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “Yes! Although I’m not very good at drawing them. But I’ve been practicing. Just like you said I should.”
And then I remember him.
The last time I saw him, Alexander had hair and he wasn’t quite so thin. He must be having treatment now.Leukaemia,I recall. A jolt goes through me. I glance over at Astrid and see her crouched down, talking with a girl in a wheelchair. Carefully, I lower myself to Alexander’s eye level, copying my fiancée. If she can do it, I can at least try.
“How are you getting on, Alexander?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” he says with a shrug, in that quiet, brave way children in hospitals often do. “I don’t really like it when they give me the injections, because I don’t like needles, you see, and then I feel sick a bit later.”
“You’re very brave.”
“Mummy says one day I’ll be able to go home, and I’ll get to ride a horse for real.”
“Yes, you will,” I say firmly. “You know I have horses. I love to ride. Perhaps you can ride one of the horses in the royal stables.”
His big eyes grow even larger. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course I do, Alexander. You just say the word.”
He crinkles his non-existent brows. “What word?”
I chuckle. “Horse, of course. And thank you so much for this wonderful picture. I shall cherish it.”
To my surprise, he hurls himself at me, and I’m forcedto balance myself with a hand to the floor. He wraps his arms tightly around me, and I work hard at not allowing myself to go rigid at the unexpected touch.
How does Astrid do this? She hugs people like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Utterly self-conscious, I give his back a few tentative pats before I pull away. “Well done,” I say nonsensically as I rise to my feet.
Astrid is watching me. She’s now holding two children in her arms, and another is absently toying with the frill on her skirt. She’s studying me closely, a look in her eyes that makes my belly do an involuntary flip.
“Mrs. Castle, has Alexander’s treatment gone well?” I ask, not sure I want to hear her response.
“Alexander has had a bone marrow transplant, and is recovering so very well. We expect he’ll be able to go home in the next couple of weeks,” she replies.
“That’s wonderful news! Please, let me know when he’s home. I’ve made a promise to him I intend to keep.”
Mrs. Castle smiles. “Absolutely, sir.” She turns to the children. “Who wants the prince and princess to make balloon animals?”
Balloon animals? Really? I have many skills as a prince, but balloon artistry is not on the list.
“That sounds fun!” Astrid says.
A few moments later, we’re each handed a collection of long balloons, and Astrid and I begin blowing them up.
“Have you done this before?” I ask her between breaths.
“Of course I have! It was part of my royal training in Elkevik.”
I furrow my brow. “Part of your royal training was knowing how to make balloon animals?”
“Yes. Can’t you tell?” She holds up her post-modern interpretation of a dog. The children giggle.
“You’re teasing me.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “Of course I am.”
“What is it, Princess Astrid? It looks so silly,” says one of the little girls who was hugging her before.
