The king shakes his head and sighs. “Claus, wherever did we go wrong with you?”
The younger prince shrugs. “We all have our hobbies, Father. Mother gardens, Friedrich works on his house, you work on your cars, I practice naked yoga with beautiful women.”
That earns him another cough from Friedrich and a groan from his father.
“Son, leave before I decide to disinherit you.”
Claus tugs on the bottom of his blue suit jacket, puffing his chest out. “You say that all the time, Father, but I know deep down, you wish you could be as free as I.” He bends and kisses the king on the cheek, then turns to me. “A pleasure to see you again, Golden Girl.” He tips an imaginary hat, shooting me a lasciviouswink before strutting to the other side of the room.
“That boy is going to be the death of me,” Father mutters.
“And us all,” Friedrich agrees, his hand flexing on my back. My chest swells at the possessive gesture.
The king turns back to me, extending his hand, which I take, and he places a soft kiss to my knuckles, just as his son always does. His hand feels thin and fragile. Long, bony fingers with skin a little too loose around the joints.
“A pleasure to be formally introduced, Miss Sumner.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, good, you did not start without me,” a sweet-sounding French accent comes from behind us.
Everyone turns and dips into a bow, except the Queen Mother, who remains sitting, and of course, the king, who bows to no one. She nods to the room and then strides to her husband, absolutely stunning in a simple midi dress with sheer, billowing sleeves in the exact shade of blue as her cake. She gives the king a quick kiss on the cheek, one foot lifting off the floor delicately as she leans into him. King Aldric beams and pulls her to his side.
“We would never dream of starting without you, blossom.”
Blossom? God, that’s so cute!Friedrich’s hand on my back slips to my hip, pulling me in closer. I catch himlooking down at me for a split second before his attention returns to his parents.
“Thank you so much, everyone,” Queen Jacqueline continues. “For joining me today. I suppose I have kept you all waiting long enough. Let us dine together.”
She makes a sweeping gesture at the table, and everyone begins to file in. The king has a hand on the chair to the right of the head of the table, but the queen places a hand over his.
“Mon coeur,do you mind very much if our Miss Sumner were to sit next to me today?” She blends the perfect amount of sweet pout into her question, and I can see the effect it has on her husband. This woman could get anything she wants out of the most powerful man in the country.
“I certainly do not mind, my flower.”
King Aldric pulls the chair away from the table and motions for me to sit. I’m not sure the protocol on this, the king pulling out my chair for me. I glance up to Friedrich, who gives me an encouraging smile and nod. It seems Friedrich comes by his charm naturally.
With everyone settled, men in morning jackets begin circling the table with platters of food, and people serve themselves from the plates. Bowls of a seafood soup are set at everyone’s place, and a bread basket is passed up and down the table as chatter fills the room again.
“So, tell me, my dear Miss Sumner,” the queen begins when the servers have returned to their postsalong the walls. “My son has told me you are from America. Whatever brought you to Emarvia?”
“I was actually born here, Your Majesty. My parents met when my mother was studying abroad during her final semester in college. He must have swept her off her feet because she came back after graduation, and they married not long after.”
I catch a knowing glance between the king and queen, and so much is conveyed between them with just their eyes. These are two people so in love. It’s no wonder Friedrich is holding out for his perfect match. After watching his parents, it must be hard to think of settling. If only every love story could be so beautiful.
“Why did your family return to America?” the king asks.
“I was very young, but from what I could tell, my mother never really felt at home here, so we moved to her hometown in Louisiana when I was two years old.”
My mom is a small-town girl, and as she would tell the story, the hustle of the capital and the colder climate never sat well with her. She would claim she felt homesick while living abroad and missing family, but I can count on two hands the number of times we visited her mother or aunts during my childhood.
“And what brought you back to our little island?”
I knew the question would come eventually; it always does. But I haven’t even told Friedrich the whole story yet. I take a deep breath.
“My father left when I was twelve. As much as the city life didn’t suit my mother, the country was evenworse on my father.” I remember his disdain for the monotony of small-town life, his contempt for the regulars at the bar where he worked, and the pure hatred of the religious zealotry that seemed to gloss over thelove thy neighborbit but focused heavily on the faults of others. And the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed to deal with all of it. “He came back to his home country, I guess, out of comfort and familiarity. I saved my money as I worked through high school and relied on the generosity of my father’s aunt to house me so I could attend university here.”
I pause, remembering Trixie’s lesson in showing no weakness or uncertainty and manage to keep from fidgeting. Leaving my mother wasn’t particularly difficult. She worked multiple jobs to keep us afloat, and so we were never close. But my father. When he wasn’t drunk, he was the best dad. I push away the memories of him before I start to get misty in front of an audience.
