I finally have to turn away from his gaze.
4
Lyra
“W
hyareyoudoingthis?” Odin demands.
I’ve been in the house exactly thirty-seven minutes. Time enough for Madame Carol to show me to my room, for Camille to come running and excitedly throw her arms around me.
I’m not used to an excited Camille, or one who initiates first contact. It’s nice, but will definitely take some getting used to.
All this will take some getting used to.
As will Camille’s dogs: tiny rat-dog Betty White who sniffs at my ankles like she’s about to take a chunk out of me, and goofy, gangly horse-dog Bea Arthur. She would have knocked me over in her excitement had Camille not grabbed me.
They make the house seem fuller, more complete.
I’ve never had a dog before and I crouch in an attempt to make friends with Betty White. I think I like them. Even with the dismissive curl of her lip, I’m confident I’ll win her over before I leave.
Kate’s warning from last night still rings in my ears, following me from Chicago to St. John’s, Newfoundland where I took the ferry across the St. Lawrence to Saint Pierre because I’ve never doneit before. I had a great conversation with an eighty-year-old former fisherman and his wife eager to tell me all the gossip from Saint Pierre.
They even invited me to dinner with my “beau” after the show ends. Hope it’s good that I told them what’s going on.
Odin didn’t pick me up at the dock, but he did send a car. I don’t know if I was more annoyed or relieved.
Camille takes me down to the kitchen, where Madame Carol has a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc waiting. I need the help because Odin is there readying for the attack.
The thirty-eighth minute of me being in the house has my big brother starting a tirade of how irresponsible I am to go on the show.
My brothers always think they have a right to tell me what to do.
Like they never made mistakes.
Odin, the second son, is now happily married to Camille, the new prefect of Saint Pierre. She agreed to marry him because she needed a husband to govern her tiny island nation. Technically, it’s a French island nation, and Camille just looks after it, but she takes it as seriously as if she’s a queen.
Camille will never be queen because Odin abdicated his position to the throne to move here with Camille and support her.
I never really saw that coming.
I may not have much to do with the running of Laandia, or give much thought to the list of events and committees and groups Duncan presents me with every year as suggestions for how I can be more involved, but Ilovebeing a princess.
Who wouldn’t?
I have wealth and freedom and a certain amount of standing. Yes, I have a public persona that I try not to let embarrass herself, but it’s not too far off of my true self to be a challenge. Doors are opened for me. Friends around the world are cultivated without too much effort. I’m welcome anywhere.
The only thing I don’t have falling into my lap, is the love of a good man.
Stress on the wordgood.
Men continually tell me theywant,need, have to have me.I’ve had twenty-three proposals of marriage since I turned sixteen, and the L-word has been thrown at me more times than I can count.
And because I haven’t accepted these declarations in kind, I’m seen as picky, a tease, high-maintenance and a slew of other names, none of which are very respectable to call a princess.
Unfortunately, I learned at an early age that, while I am lucky to have a lot of things, respect hasn’t always been one of them.
But still, I wait politely until Odin takes a breath.
