We giggle like children, and he tries to rub off the bits that have smudged around my lips, too. When we’re both satisfied that we don’t look like complete slobs, I use my phone camera to reapply the lipstick Margaret had picked out.
“Ready?” Friedrich asks, holding a hand out for me.
I take a deep cleansing breath. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Don’t worry, Aurelia, you’ll be fine. They’re way easier to please than those vipers at the ball.”
After helping me out of my winter outerwear and passing everything off to a waiting footman, he leads me along a hallway. Doors leading to various sitting areas, offices, and parlors line the walls. We cross the main entrance hall, where the ballroom and formal dining room branch off, and down a hall I’ve never been through, traversing areas of the palace previously unknown to me. Carved wooden doors are propped open at the end of the corridor, and laughter and chatter flows out of the room.
I try to take in as much of the informal dining room, what my grandmother would have called a breakfast room, as we stand just over the threshold. One wall is only windows, letting in the muted winter light and looking out over the snow-dusted grounds. Buffet tables sit on the other three walls, one with silver domed serving platters, another holding many small cups and saucers and all the trimmings for tea or coffee, but no sign of either, and the last holding a three-tiered ice blue frosted cake decorated with real multicolored pansies. The table in the middle is set for sixteen, but the only occupied seat is to the left of the head, where the Queen Mother sits in conversation with the former Prime Minister, Marvin Fraust.
I recognize most of the other people in the room. Friedrich’s brother gives me a wink over PrincessBeatrix’s shoulder, who turns to see who he’s flirting with. She sees me and breaks into a smile, offering a delicate finger wave, which I return. The younger princesses are locked in conversation with a middle-aged woman I don’t recognize. They pay Friedrich and me no notice. I don’t see the queen anywhere, though.
“She’s got to make her grand entrance,” Friedrich whispers to me as if reading my mind.
“It is her birthday after all,” I supply.
He huffs a laugh. “Oh no, Mother is all about the dramatics, birthday or no.” He takes my hand and places it in the crook of his elbow. “Here, let me introduce you around.”
The woman talking to Friedrich’s sisters is one of Queen Jacqueline’s ladies-in-waiting. Her thick French accent is hard to cut through, and she seems a bit severe, like she’s used to being one of the most important people in the room.
The Princesses Anneliese and Lorelei share a look when Friedrich introduces me, but then we curtsy, and they start peppering me with questions about America until Friedrich drags me away to continue around the room.
He takes me next to his grandmother, and I drop low into my best curtsy. The Queen Mother is quite reclusive, an enigma to the public since the death of her husband more than thirty years ago. I’m sure the exile of her eldest son had a bit to do with her retreat as well.
“Your Majesty,” I say, eyes still on the floor, my back starting to protest thisbowed position.
“Stand, child.” Her voice is strong and melodic, like old church bells.
I meet her eyes and see Friedrich’s staring back out at me.The genetics are strong in this family. I remember meeting King Aldric at the train station, realizing I’m looking at Friedrich in twenty years.
Why is my brain conjuring images of little auburn-haired babies with crazy blue eyes?
“And where did you find this one, Fritz?” she asks, still surveying me like a prized heifer. I swear she’s going to pat my rump soon.
“Granny, this is my friend Aurelia,” Friedrich introduces.
“Friend…” She raises an eyebrow in such a perfect imitation of Maggie Smith. I fear she’s about to scold me for bringing shame on Downton or something.
Friedrich clears his throat. “Yes, Granny. Friend.”
“My dearest Friedrich. I have seen many friends in my day, and none look at each other the way you look at her.”
Criminy, this woman is perceptive. It’s a wonder there are any secrets around this place.
“Is she a witch?” I hiss in Friedrich’s ear.
This earns a chuckle from both of them. The Queen Mother takes my hand in hers and gives it a gentle pat.
“I like this one, Fritz. She has spirit.”
The prince places his hand on my lower back, applying gentle pressure, and I pick up his cue. We bow to his grandmother and then continue the lap aroundthe room. He leaves his hand on my back as we move from person to person, and his gentle guidance keeps my nerves mostly at bay.
The queen still hasn’t made her entrance by the time we reach King Aldric and his younger son in the far corner of the room. It’s a wonder anyone around here has fully functioning knees with all the bending and posturing.
“If I had known we were showing off our latest conquests, I would have asked that figure skater from last night to join us,” Prince Claus drawls as I straighten.
My blushing reflex had stayed in check so far, until that comment. Friedrich chokes and shoots his brother a death glare.
