Several more children crowd into a hug, and I’m almost toppled off my Wellington boot-clad feet by their enthusiasm.
I beam at the children. “I love you, too. All of you.”
The two men escort the children back to their teacher as I traipse across the lawn with Prime Minister Henson.
“Can you tell me what this is about?” I ask as we make our way down the wide path.
“As you know, ma’am, we’ve been in trade talks with Ledonia following the collapse of the energy deal.”
“Yes, of course.”
The failed energy deal was a disaster for Elkevik, and I know it’s been a major concern for my parents. Frederic, the Ledonian Crown Prince, accompanied the Ledonian Prime Minister to our island nation last week to discuss solutions.
I admit, itwasrather nice to get to see the prince once more, even if it was only for boring trade talks. I hadn’t seen him since I was a child, and I always remembered how handsome he was. Olive skin, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass, like the ones you see on TV stars, like Luke Perry from that Beverly Hills show.
I found myself trying to make him smile each time I saw him because his smile lights up his face, making him even more handsome.
Because if there’s one thing Prince Frederic doesn’t do much of that’s smile.
Of course despite his good looks, he was about as exciting as rewinding your favorite cassette tape with apencil when you’re dying to listen to it. But he sure was nice to look at while he was here.
I think back to our visit to the children’s hospital, where so many of the children looked glum. To win some smiles, I’d asked the staff to put on some music and they chose George Michael’s Faith, which is impossible not to dance to. Before long, several of the children were dancing with me, their faces lit up, the entire atmosphere transformed.
I even got a smile out of Prince Frederic, which is quite something. I think he smiles maybe once a year. Possibly scheduled for Christmas Day.
“What haveIgot to do with trade talks?” I ask the Prime Minister.
“We received a proposition from King Leonardo of Ledonia this morning that’s a little, shall we say, left-field,” he replies as he holds the palace door open for me.
My ears prick up. Left-field sounds more interesting than expected.
“What are they proposing?”
“Let’s wait until we’re with your parents, shall we?”
We make our way to Papa’s study, with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, some of them centuries old. I’ve always loved this room. It’s so full of wonder. You can crack open any book and dive into a new world unlike your own.
My favorite is the enormous map of the world. It was almost as big as me as a child, and it creaks when you open it as if to announce you’re about to enter some wonderful place. I used to get lost studying all the world outside of Elkevik: from Africa to the Americas, from Indonesia to Peru.
You see, I’ve spent most of my twenty-three years on this small island in the North Sea, only ever traveling todifferent palaces around Europe. And yes, I know that makes me sound like I live a life of privilege, which I know I do. But when all you’re allowed to do is meet other royals and country leaders, it’s not exactlythe world. It’s simply a teeny, tiny slice of it.
Inside the room, my parents are huddled together, their voices an indistinct murmur.
“Mama. Papa,” I say as I cross the room, trailed by Mr. Henson.
As they look up at me, their features are taut, and my heart skips a beat. Neither of my parents are worriers. They’re like me: they take everything in their stride, always seeing the positive in life. Eternal optimists.
My parents are my role models, both of them made from the same blueprint.
“Asti. Sweetheart. Come, sit. We have something we need to discuss with you.” Papa gestures toward the seating area by the large windows overlooking the city of Scandora, with Elkevik’s snow-capped mountains in the distance.
It may be early summer, but we’re so far north the mountains are always snowcapped, and completely white by early autumn.
“You’re freaking me out,” I say, clasping my hands tightly.
“There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Mama says gently as she too gestures for me to sit.
I sink into the cushions, my body stiff. “What’s this left-field idea from Ledonia? Mr. Henson mentioned it as we walked here.”
