“So, what is it today?” I asked, trying to regain my composure.
“I’m sorry?”
“How are you proving yourself to me today?”
He smiled. “Today it’s my promise never to bring you white tea in the winter.” He didn’t say good-bye or bow but walked away, seeming hopeful.
Over his shoulder, Baden caught my eye. My first impression of him had nothing to do with our initial conversation. I only saw him as the boy Aunt May thought had promise.
I could tell he was debating whether or not to walk over. I looked down at the floor and peeked his way from under my lashes. I felt foolish trying to play this part, but it worked and he started to cross the floor. I thought back to the interviewer, musing over how funny it was that I’d been taught plenty of disarming techniques for interviews or negotiations, but when it came to boys, I was left to figure it out alone.
Baden looked eager to speak to me, but we were both shocked when another boy coming from a different direction arrived at us at the exact same moment.
“Gunner,” Baden greeted. “How are you enjoying the party?”
“It’s excellent. I was just coming to thank Her Highness for hosting it. It’s been a pleasure to meet your younger brothers.”
“Oh, dear. What did they do?”
Baden laughed, and Gunner tried to suppress a smile. “Osten is awfully . . . energetic.”
I sighed. “I blame my parents. It seems that by the time you get to your fourth child, your desire to instill certain values goes out the window.”
“I like him though. Hope he’ll be around.”
“It’s hard to say. Osten’s the hardest to keep tabs on. Even his nanny—whom he despises, by the way—can’t keep up with him. Either he’s causing chaos or he’s hiding.”
Baden jumped in. I wondered if he was trying to flirt or just seem brave. “Those two moods are so different! Is everyone in your family like that?”
I knew what he was asking: Was I the kind of girl who aimed to find solace or cause a stir with no in between? “Unquestionably.”
Baden nodded. “Good to know. I’ll buy a shield and some binoculars.”
And, darn it, I giggled. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I tried not to be upset for letting my guard down. Hopefully it would make for some good pictures. I curtsied and continued around the space.
I saw Henri across the room, Erik shadowing his every step. When our eyes met, he began walking my way immediately, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hello! Hyvää iltaa!” He kissed my cheek, which, again, would have been shocking from anyone else.
“He says ‘Good evening.’”
“Oh um . . . heevat eelah?” I mumbled, attempting to duplicate his words.
He chuckled as I butchered his language. “Good, good!” Was he always this cheerful?
I turned to Erik. “How bad was it really?”
His tone was kind, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I’m sorry to say, there is no way I could have even guessed at what that was.”
I smiled, genuinely. The pair of them were so unassuming, and considering how alienated Henri must have felt, that was saying something.
Before I could continue the conversation, Josie was beside me. “Great party, Eadlyn. You’re Henri, right? I’ve seen your picture,” she said in a rush, sticking her hand out to greet him.
He must have been confused, but he accepted the gesture all the same.
“I’m Josie. Eadlyn and I are practically sisters,” she gushed.
“Except that we’re not related at all,” I added.
Erik tried to convey everything to Henri quickly and quietly, which distracted Josie.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing your picture.”
“I’m Sir Henri’s translator. He only speaks Finnish.”
Josie looked incredibly disappointed. I realized then that she must have come over because she found Henri attractive. He certainly seemed younger than most of the others and did have that happy-go-lucky air about him, which she must have thought suited her better than me.
“So . . . ,” she began, “how does he, like, even live?”
Without even checking with Henri, Erik spoke up. “If you’re practically Her Highness’s sister, then I’m sure the palace has afforded you an excellent education. So, of course you know the relations between Illéa and Swendway are old and strong, drawing many Swendish people to settle here, making small communities, and vice versa. It’s not difficult at all.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to grin at how articulately he put Josie in her place.
Josie nodded. “Oh, of course. Umm . . .” And that was as hard as she was willing to try. “Excuse me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered once she was out of earshot. “It has nothing to do with you two. She’s just terrible.”
“No offense taken,” Erik replied honestly. He conversed back and forth for a moment with Henri in Finnish, presumably catching him up on what just happened.
“Pardon me. I need to speak with someone, but I’ll see you at dinner.” I curtsied and left them, searching for any sort of retreat.
I’d been totally thrown off by that interview earlier, and I was proud that I pulled myself back together in the aftermath. But Josie had the ability to ruffle me without fail.
I saw Mom alone and rushed over to her, hoping for some solace. Instead I was greeted by a glare similar to Ahren’s when I’d first come in.