This time, when he reaches for my hand under the water, I know it’s not for the cameras. It’s because he’s enjoying himself, and he wants to share the moment with me.
I try not to let it go to my head.
The dolphins frolic and glide around us. I turn to look at Frederic, and although his face is obscured by his mask and snorkel, I can tell he’s happy.
I’ve never felt so connected to him.
We swim and swim and laugh and have a truly marvelous time. All too soon, it’s over, and after posing for photos, we return to the changing rooms. I need to change back into my official clothes which, for me, means having my makeup redone and my hair blown dry in the ladies’ bathroom. But I don’t mind. It was worth it, for the dolphins, and more remarkably, for a happy, carefree Fred, something I didn’t think I would ever see.
After we’ve changed, Mr. Proctor leads us to the penguin enclosure.
“That was a very good spontaneous moment back there,” Frederic says quietly to me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we held hands and looked very much like a couple. I think it was well received and might possibly be the beginning of turning this thing around for us.”
“Oh.” I close my mouth, feeling an odd sensation settle low in my belly.
I was wrong. It was all for show.He took my hand because it was the right thing to do for the audience.
I’m such an idiot. Here I was, thinking he genuinely enjoyed my company, that he reached for me because he wanted to. Not because it was part of our royal performance.
Of course it was for show. That’s all this is, isn’t it? A performance. A carefully orchestrated arrangement.
We stand and listen to an environmentalist talk about penguins’ natural habitat in the Southern Hemisphere, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate. I tell myself I shouldn’t be worried about this. It shouldn’t bother me. I can’t help it. It’s gotten under my skin.
Frederic is a cold fish, an apt metaphor considering where we are. He’s a cold fish who has less than zero interest in me, who’s only on this tour because he’s been told to.
A little girl approaches me with a posy of flowers, and I crouch down to take it from her. “Thank you so much.” I lift the flowers to my nose and take a sniff. “What’s your name?”
“Jessica,” the girl says with a gap-tooth smile.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jessica. These flowers are just lovely.”
“Are you Cinderella?” she asks, and I let out a laugh.
“No, I’m not. I’m Princess Astrid from a country in the far north. I’m here to marry Prince Frederic.” I gesture toward my future husband, who’s talking with the environmentalist.
Her little face falls. “Oh. I thought you might be Cinderella.”
“Well, I’m alittlebit like Cinderella, only I used to work with chickens and goats and lambs rather than doing all the housework for an evil stepmother.”
Her face lights right back up. “You have chickens and goats and lambs?”
Her mother places a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t bother the princess, darling. All you were meant to do was give her the flowers. I do apologize, Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, no. Ilovetalking to children. And yes,” I add to Jessica. “I have chickens and goats and sheep who have baby lambs back in Elkevik, where I’m from. I’ll name one of my chickens after you when they hatch.”
Jessica’s eyes widen. “Youwill?”
“Absolutely. Jessica Cluckington has a lovely ring to it, don’t you think?”
Jessica gives an enthusiastic nod.
“Thank you, you’re very kind, ma’am,” her mother says as I straighten back up. I glance at Frederic and find him watching me again, only this time, his face is completely readable.
He’s smiling.
