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And then I see it in his face. The prince doesn’t know why I’m here. He thinks this is just a pleasant visit with family friends. I’m thrown by this question and hesitate. “Why, no…I…”
“Kala,” he says, “I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Hailey.”
I need a minute that I do not have. Fix your face, bitch.
“Fiancée,” I repeat back to him, feeling all the blood drain from my brain. That’s it, then. Frost Bay Beverages is sunk. There won’t be any refinancing of loans or new land deals, or new partnerships. I won’t be having children or a royal title to leverage money for charity.
Again, what the fuck am I doing here?
I turn to the short, curvy blonde woman who stares up at me with the sweetest, most innocent face. “Of course. How wonderful to meet you,” I say, offering my hand.
“You too, Kala. I love your dress, by the way.”
“Oh? I’ll have my dry cleaner deliver it to the palace in a day.” And have my tailor hem it five inches and let it out in the chest and hips, I think, with a twinge of envy. But I don’t say that part out loud.
“I…wait…what? No, that’s so not necessary.”
“It is customary,” I tell her, exaggeratedly confused. It’s a very outdated cultural custom of Gravenland, but I’m leaning into the idea that Torben has not prepared this woman for life as a monarch.
I regret making Hailey feel uncomfortable the longer I’m in her presence. She’s pretty, down-to-earth and kind. She’s chatty, whereas Torben is reserved, and I can see how they make a perfect match.
More than anything, I see how she looks at him and him at her. My heart skips a beat. I wish I had a hold on my central nervous system equal to my grip on my manners.
With my eyes trained on my teacup—because I can’t stomach any of the rich foods laid out before us on this table—I feel something pricking my skin. The feeling that someone is staring at me is overwhelming.
I look up, and see it. Seehim. Etienne’s cool grey eyes match those of his mother, the queen, but he has none of her etiquette. He’s smirking at me while everyone carries on with the conversation.
I can’t wait to get the hell out of this room. I feel vulnerable. Exposed and suffocated at the same time.
When we’re all finally dismissed, I breathe a sigh of relief.
But that relief only lasts a moment.
“Stay, if you would, dear,” the queen says, pressing her hand to my forearm after I curtsy at the end of breakfast.
“Stay? Of course, Your Majesty.”
The king adds, “Yes, please do. We need all the company we can get around here. I’d love to have you around to help Hailey adjust to royal life.”
But they have advisers and staff for that, don’t they? Do I dare question it? “She seems like a lovely woman, and I’d be happy to help in any capacity,” I reply.
The king and queen exchange a look, then the king retreats, heading down the hall to who knows where.
The queen still hasn’t let go of my arm. “And, later on, we’re scheduled to meet with the chief brewer of Frost Bay Beverages today for a photo opportunity. Would you be so kind as to join us?”
“Oh,” I reply. “Of course.” I don’t actually want to appear in the media as a representative of the company, but when the queen asks, I can’t say no.
“Good,” the queen says. “The appearance is scheduled for two o’clock. Please make yourself at home.”
“Shouldn’t I go to my flat and change into business clothes?”
The queen shakes her head. “The guest room, and its wardrobe, is at your disposal. What can I say? We love having you around. You’re such a good influence. On everyone in this house.”
What can she say?
Indeed, I wish she’d just come out and say the truth: they want to push me in Torben’s face all day long and remind him of what he’s missing.
What no one says out loud in the presence of royalty would fill volumes.
