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And there are so many people. So, so many.
They can’t all fit inside. They’re spilling out of the doors, gathered around all sides of the building, partying all the way out to the road.
I stop. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah,” Jonah agrees. “That’s because of your husband.”
I turn wide eyes on him. “Not Cian and Astrid?”
“Them too. There were about a hundred too many people here when they were here, but when Torin showed up, the number doubled.”
“How do you know that?”
He just gives me a smile. “It’s my job.”
I turn back to the scene just down a short hill from us. “Wow. So Torin is more popular than Cian and Astrid?”
“He’s their prince, Abi.”
Jonah’s tone indicates that it should be obvious to me that would bring crowds.
And, I guess, it is.
He’s their leader. He’s their someday-king.
I take a breath. “Okay.”
“You want to go in?”
“I’m not sure. Can we just get closer?”
“Sure. Here, around back.” He guides me down the hill, closer to the trees along the edge of the road that throw shadows on us. He takes me to the back side of the pub that butts up against more trees. There are far fewer people back here because there simply isn’t room for a crowd. Or for dancing and passing trays of drinks.
Jonah manages to get us up near one of the windows. It’s open and we can hear everything.
Including the man currently speaking to the crowd.
From the top of a table.
A very familiar man.
My husband. The prince.
“Marlin, I know your son went to London for school and didn’t come back,” Torin says, pointing his finger on the hand that’s also holding a bottle of beer at a man standing near the door across the room from us. “Let’s train our kids here and give them jobs here. Let’s keep them home.”
The crowd cheers.
My eyes are wide, but I feel my smile.
“And I know last year the produce prices went way up,” he says pointing at someone, or maybe a group, at the back wall. “I know that sucked because there was nothing we could do. We don’t have anything to negotiate with. We have to just be nice and hope Denmark is good to us.”
There are a few boos now.
He nods. “Right? We need our own crops. We need to produce our own food, you guys!”
There’s some clapping to that.
“What about the fishing?” someone calls.
