“It was cancer,” I said softly after a few moments. I kept my eyes glued to my work but felt him pause beside me. “Lymphoma. She died when I was fourteen.” My heart pounded. I so rarely talked about Mom that sharing even these small details felt monumental.
Prince Oliver took my hand once more. I liked the feeling of my hand in his, his palm smooth and his fingers strong. He looked into my eyes as he spoke. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It means so much that you trust me with that.”
This time, I squeezed his hand. Suddenly aware of the many sets of eyes around us, I pulled away, pointing at his ornament. “Look, you were really on a roll, but your stars are looking more like amoebas, Your Highness.”
The prince threw his brush down, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “Okay, I give up.”
I knew that we were always being watched, and I could feel the heavy heat of someone else staring at Prince Oliver and me. I turned my head to find Knox watching us. I locked eyes with him and gave a small smile. As if it took a moment to register, he nodded a hello and then walked out of the room. His vibe felt entirely off, far different from anything I’d felt from him thus far.
I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head when I heard Renata’s shrill voice asking someone to wait while she touched up her lipstick, followed by the snapping of cameras. I turned to see that Cordell was taking pictures of Renata and the cousins.
She really did know how to turn it on for the camera. The way her face went from absolute boredom to fun and friendly was honestly appalling. I had met my fair share of mean girlsliving in New York and just by being a woman, but Renata would give any of the Real Housewives a run for their money.
“Ollie! Hey, Ollie!” She waved to Prince Oliver, trying to get his attention.
He looked over to her and let out a long sigh.
“Cordell is taking pictures for social media. Come over here,” she said sashayed over to our side of the table. She looked down at his ornament and then back to him. “Oh my gosh, that is amazing!”
Liar,I thought.
Prince Oliver made eye contact with me, and we both laughed. I was glad to see that he also knew she was full of shit.
Renata’s eyes shot to us. “What?” I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but her voice managed to climb another decibel.
“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Birdie, grab your ornament and come take a picture with us. We’ll all get in it.”
“Oh, um, Cordell only wanted you,” Renata said sweetly.
“Well, good thing I'm the prince and can decide what goes on the official palace social media accounts.” Though his expression was kind, his tone brooked no arguments.
She plastered on the fakest of fake smiles, pivoted, and moved back to her side of the table.
“Ready?” he asked.
We walked to the other side of the room and the entire group gathered around with their ornaments. As Cordell arranged us, I peeked at everyone else’s pieces. As I had suspected from their reactions earlier, Sabine and Cora’s ornaments demonstrated their comfort with art and painting: Sabine’s featured tiny snowdrop blooms, while Cora’s depicted a train car laden with presents. Adelaide and Mel may not have had the same artistic talent as Cora and Sabine, but they hadapproached the activity with enthusiasm, adorning their wood rounds with a stack of books and a wreath, respectively.
Ginny, it appeared, had a good eye, but her string of lights was only half finished. I was unsure what Renata or Gemma’s ornaments were meant to be, but they made Prince Oliver look like Monet.If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,I reminded myself, biting my tongue.
The camera lights flashed and by the time we were done taking pictures my face was hurting. Before we were able to disperse, Cora gasped, and I heard what sounded like one of the ornaments hit the floor. I craned my neck and spotted Cora’s empty hands, a wooden round face-down on the ground in front of her. Her eyes welled with tears as she picked it up, the still-drying paint now smudged, the image smeared.
“Oh my God, Cora! So sorry, didn’t see you there,” Gemma said, her voice lacking in sincerity. “Did you ruin your painting? What a shame.” Beside her, Renata shook her head andtskedin fake sympathy.
Cora’s face was the shade of an heirloom tomato on a hot summer day.This poor girl.Gemma had been standing right next to her; there was no way she “hadn’t seen her” and had clearly sabotaged her beautiful piece out of jealousy.
I walked jauntily over to Cora and looped my arm through hers, pulling her over to the other side of the room.
“What are you doing?” she asked, tears in her eyes.
“Come over here and sit with me, Cora.” I led her to where Prince Oliver and I had just been working.
“Is Prince Oliver staring at me? This is so embarrassing. Everyone is staring at me and whispering.”
“When I was in middle school, I think it was seventh grade, I was invited to my first boy-girl birthday party. I was so excited because my crush, Jake Goodwin, was going to be there and rumor had it that we were going to play spin the bottle.” Isat down at my station, taking Cora’s ruined ornament and grabbing a fresh paintbrush. “Here. You can sit here, I think Prince Oliver is preoccupied with talking to Adelaide.” I pulled the chair out for Cora and continued my story as I worked. “Sophie Gonzales’s mom was a huge health nut. So, for Sophie's birthday, her mom made this healthy cake and used bananas instead of butter or oil or something.” I rolled my eyes. “Problem is, I’m extremely allergic to bananas and I didn’t even think to ask, because honestly, who puts bananas in a birthday cake? Well, we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and then ate the cake. I started to feel funny, but thought it was just my nerves because we were gathering around to start the game. Next thing I know, I was throwing up and pooping my pants at the same time, right in front of Jake! It was so embarrassing.”
“Oh my gosh!” Cora gasped.
“Yeah. It’s hard to come back from that. Especially in middle school. Just as it seemed as though everyone was about to move on to some other junior-high scandal, this other girl—Lulu Matheson—caught wind that Jake was going to ask me to the winter formal instead of her and started telling the story again, exaggerating it and making it worse with every retelling.”
