by Lara Swann
He leads me back towards the large receiving hall that we were in earlier, but diverts off to the right of it - to a small antechamber turned sitting room that’s attached to the larger room. My family have always traditionally used this to discuss whatever official function might be about to happen.
No one announces me this time - but all three of them turn to look at me when I enter anyway, the room going silent immediately.
Granna has obviously retired, no doubt having no interest in any of this, but my father, mother and brother are all here.
Great.
I run a few fingers across my aching, tired eyes and nod to them.
“I’m not sure whether Mikhael told you.” I shoot a glance in his direction before turning back to my father. “But I haven’t slept for what feels like days. Is there any way this can wait?”
My father’s frown deepens and he shakes his head. “We’re very concerned, Frederick.”
Of course. When are they not very concerned about something I’ve done, or not done?
“What are you concerned about, father?” I ask anyway, playing the obedient son this time.
That was the whole plan, after all. Convince them that I’m growing up over in the States - in the way they want - so that they let me go back there. And use Hanna to distract them enough that they believe it. There’s no point screwing everything up on the first day just because they’re acting like bastards and I’m more than a little angry about it. No point at all, I remind myself firmly.
“That…girl.” He practically spits the word out, distaste obvious. “Did you learn nothing about what’s required of a Princesca-attenciano while you were here? She’s completely unsuitable.”
My heart drops. She was always going to be unsuitable - that was the plan, too, and I know the royal family of Aldora will never accept an American - but it was meant to be a gradual thing. A genuine attempt, at least.
“Really, Derek.” Nicolas says, in the same disappointed tone he’s always taken with me. “An American? And if you’re going to bring one of those back, you could have at least picked a civilized one—”
“Wait. Just hold up.” I say, raising my hands and glaring back at my brother. I might be making an attempt to be civil to my father - but Nicolas doesn’t deserve the same treatment. Plus, my tired frustration is starting to boil over into something more now.
How dare they talk about Hanna like that?!
“Hanna might be American, but she’s perfectly suitable—”
“Dear.” My mother says in that gentle, conciliatory tone she has that’s still as firm as iron. “Did you see what she was wearing? At an official welcoming presentation? And, I’m not sure whether your time over there has affected your sense of smell, but—”
“We’d just come off a thrice-damned train!” I grind out, my fists clenching as I try to rein back my temper and keep my voice mostly even. “Yes, I know what she was wearing. And I probably smell just as bad at the moment - neither of us have washed in over twenty-four hours of travel. If we’d had a chance to do anything else, we would have - but it’s not her fault that you moved the welcoming presentation to within minutes of her arrival!”
My father is looking at me with a stern expression, and I’m pretty sure Nicolas’s isn’t much better. I can feel the disapproval growing with every word I say, but I’m worked up and every little frustration with this whole damned thing is pouring out. I know none of them - strict and stern and constantly-in-control royals - have ever approved of my emotional, expressive nature. But fuck that too.
“You’re the ones that insisted we catch that train, just because you’re still irritated about what happened in America and you want to play games with me. You want to do that? Fine. But don’t be surprised when we arrive tired and irritable and not finely presented to meet you - at a ceremony that has never been held on arrival, ever.”
I pause to take a deep breath and my father looks at me with disgust.
“Really, Frederick? You think any of that was about you?” His lip curls up like he’s tasted something bad, and he gives a sharp shake of his head. “You had to catch that train because you needed to be here today. You couldn’t afford to be late. And we needed to welcome you this morning. It had nothing to do with what happened in America - though we do still need to deal with that.”
He says it all with a perfectly measured tone that only makes the whole thing even more infuriating.
“And why did we need to be here today, then, father?”
“So that we can hold the Court Dinner tonight, of course.” My mother answers for him.
“Though after this morning, I’m not at all sure we have a Princesca-attenciano to present to the court.” My father adds, but my head is suddenly spinning too quickly to absorb it.
What?!
I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until my brother starts answering - he, at least, can usually tell where I’ve stopped following what’s going on.
“The last week has been the bi-annual gathering of the court, Derek - you must know that. So when you said you had a Princesca-attenciano to present, we asked everyone to stay an extra day for the Court Dinner to save them coming back in a week’s time. It meant you couldn’t arrive any later because they all have business to attend to, so you had to catch that train - and we had to welcome you immediately.”
I pause for a moment, my eyes closing as I absorb what he’s saying.
That…actually makes some sense.
“Did you really think that, Frederick?” My mother adds, and now her voice has a disappointed tone to it as well. “We wouldn’t have asked you to catch the train if it wasn’t important.”
Of course they wouldn’t.
God damn it.
Aand…now I feel stupid and small again.
Welcome home, Derek.
I take another breath and shake my head, feeling bad for the assumption but irritated about the whole thing anyway.
“Then…I’m sorry for what I said.” I gather myself up, shrugging my shoulders and trying to ease the tension. “I’m…just tired.”
As good an excuse as any. I feel Nicolas’s eyes narrow at me and know he doesn’t buy the apology, but right now, I don’t care.
“But…wait.” I finally catch on, feeling slower than ever before. “The Court Dinner is tonight?!”
My father looks at me like I’m an idiot and Nicolas lets out a long-suffering breath.
“But…” I start.
Hanna isn’t ready. She doesn’t know anything. I haven’t told her anything.
But I can’t say that. If this had been a serious proposal, I would have discussed it all with her already. I would have been preparing her from the beginning for what it means to be an Aldoran Princesca. There’s no explanation for why she doesn’t know anything.
“I know.” My father says, surprising me with the agreement, his mouth twisting. “She’s hardly suitable. What were you thinking, boy?”
I take another deep breath. It must be…the tenth one, or something. But there’s a small chance it will stop me exploding again.
“She is suitable.” I insist again. “I know the welcome presentation wasn’t…ideal. But she’s a great girl - top of our class at Boston, giving and generous and kind. Sweet and funny. They’ll like her, honestly. Even if she is American, she’s worth considering as Princesca-attenciano.”
I might be adding a few attributes there that I’m only guessing at, but I’m pretty confident that I’m guessing well. Hanna just has that vibe about her. Though talking about her like this is uncomfortable in itself - but that’s how my parents have always done it. People are just another thing for them to move around and use.
That might be a little unfair…
But fuck it, I feel like being unfair right now.
I can feel him looking dubiously at me, and I turn to my mother instead, ready to spin the story I’d prepared. I’d hoped to do it under better circumstances, to actually get some credit instea
d of just plaster over shit going wrong, but still...
Not much choice now.
“I just…after what happened, I wanted to focus on what’s important - on our family, and my duties here. And I thought it would be a good idea to try to find a Princesca-attenciano, and that settling down a bit might be for the best after all. I don’t know—I don’t know exactly that she’ll be suitable. I mean, Nicolas still hasn’t found the right Princesca, and I know he’s been trying for a lot longer.” It doesn’t occur to me until after I say it that he might take that as a dig in his direction, and I avoid looking at him as I continue. “But isn’t looking and failing better than not trying at all?”
That’s what my mother has always said, anyway. And she seems to buy it, because her face does relax a little and she looks up towards my father with an entreating expression.
“He has got a point, Charles.” She says, laying a hand on his arm. “I know Hanna wasn’t exactly what any of us were expecting this morning, but maybe we weren’t seeing her at her best. And either way, it doesn’t hurt for Frederick to have a chance to go through the Princesca-attenciano ceremonies.”
My father’s expression doesn’t change, but I can tell he’s considering it. He listens to my mother more than he’d want to admit.
“It’s not like he has another choice over there.” Nicolas points out. “Whoever he might pick at the moment is going to be American, and none of them would be…quite our idea of a Princesca-attenciano.”
I blink, not sure whether he’s supporting me or subtly insulting my choices in general, but surprised at the input either way.
“It might not be bad for our American relations, either.” My mother suddenly adds. “For them to know that we’ve considered a girl from America as a potential alliance.”
I’m pretty sure that’s not how the world works anymore, but I don’t say anything. She’s arguing for me, after all - and who knows, maybe she’s right. I’ve never had anything to do with Aldora’s foreign relations.
Eventually, he shrugs and nods. “The Princesca-attenciano has always been judged by the whole court. We’re just a part of it. We will not make the decision for them - let’s see what they say after tonight, and as they get to know her.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief and nod in return.
“I am trying, father.” I add, surprising myself.
I’m not sure whether it’s a subconscious attempt to boost my chances of convincing them, or…something else, but either way his expression smooths just a little, and he grunts in acknowledgment.
“Can I go and get some sleep now?” I ask, still not quite able to summon the will to go as far as asking whether I’m formally dismissed.
He inclines his head, and I turn without another word. The longer I stay in closed quarters with my family, the more likely I am to cause trouble of some sort for myself.
It’s not until I get out of there that I let myself process the implications of the Court Dinner being tonight.
And then I groan.
She was right. She was totally, completely right.
We should have talked about all this before we arrived.
But with the way everything else had gone and my little outburst in there, I couldn’t object to the Court Dinner as well.
She’ll be okay.
I tell myself that as I walk reluctantly all the way back up to my room. One disadvantage about castles - it takes fucking forever to get anywhere.
But even unprepared - Hanna is clever enough, she’ll pick it up. She’ll get through dinner with my aunts and uncles and cousins, and the people my father has appointed to various posts to run the country.
She doesn’t even speak the language, so she’s not going to pick up on whatever stupid comments people make, and I don’t think we have that many traditional customs that I need to tell her about. At least it will confirm her position - attending the Court Dinner means that she will officially be a Princesca-attenciano of Aldora until a final decision is made. It will give some legitimacy to everything I’m trying to convince my parents of.
It should be okay. Especially now that I know my parents aren’t out to get me over the stupid pot incident.
We just need to turn up, make nice pleasantries, eat some food and then…nothing will be required of her for quite a while. Maybe it’s even better this way, to get this shit done so that she can have some of the time to relax that I promised her.
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.
When I finally reach my room, I shrug my clothes off and get into bed almost instantly, feeling the exhaustion of the last day or so almost smothering me. Reluctantly, I set an alarm that tries to balance sleep with having enough time to tell Hanna about the Court Dinner, and then I close my eyes.
Somehow, despite how desperate my body is - it still takes me a while to fall asleep.
Chapter Seven
Hanna
There’s a thumping in my head.
A dull thudding that - surprisingly - doesn’t seem to hurt as much as I’d expect.
I turn over in the luxurious silk sheets, trying to get rid of it - trying to will my body back into a sleep where that thumping will slowly disappear. But it doesn’t quit.
If anything, it gets more insistent.
Until I finally notice that it’s not coming from the inside of my head at all.
I groan as I come fully awake and look over in the direction of the door that I can’t see - and the constant thumping behind it, now accompanied by a muffled voice.
“Ughh…” I put a hand to my head and force my body to sit up, my eyes still scratchy and sore - but at least the earlier headache has receded a little.
“Okay, okay!” I call out. “I’m coming!”
What on earth is going on now?
It doesn’t feel like I’ve slept through the several days that I was hoping to. In fact, light is still streaming in from the curtains. And as I glare suspiciously in that direction, I’m pretty sure it’s not the light of the next morning at all.
I fumble for my glasses on the bedside table and as the world comes back into focus, swing my legs over and reluctantly get out of bed. I glance around to see a large, fluffy dressing gown waiting on a hook behind the door - something I’d noticed just before going to sleep - and make my way over to it, tugging it on and grumbling the whole time.
“Not a morning person…” I mutter again.
I’m pretty sure it’s not morning, either, but that’s not really the point.
Finally, what has to be several minutes later, I pull the door open and squint at the light.
Derek.
Of course, I was hardly expecting anyone else - but I’m not at my intellectual best when I’ve just woken up.
“What?” I say bluntly.
He might be sexy as all hell, with a killer smile and…well, all sorts of other things I shouldn’t be thinking about. But that doesn’t mean a midnight visit is welcome right now. Midday, whatever.
“Can I come in?” He says, one eyebrow raised as he looks me over, like I’m the one being rude here.
I squint again, before finally sighing and giving in, holding the door open and flicking the light switch on. It’s daytime, so it shouldn’t be necessary, but I’m not opening those curtains for anything. Not when my plan is to get right back into bed in about five minutes.
Even so, as soon as I actually see my room - or should I say rooms - I blink in surprise. Then let out an appreciative whistle.
Wow, this place is nice.
Marble floors covered with thick, comfortable rugs. Large oil paintings decorating the walls. And windows spanning the entire length of the wall opposite. I peek into the bathroom as I follow Derek back into the main room and see more sparkling marble - then notice for the first time the array of couches set around the fireplace opposite my bed.
Derek laughs.
“Are you just checking the place out now?”
“I was more interested in sleeping before
.” I point out, then correct myself. “And now. More interested in sleeping now too.”
“You mean a whole five hours isn’t enough for you? And there I thought you pulled all nighters all the time back in Boston.” He grins, settling himself down on one of the couches in a firm announcement that he has no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“Derek…” I say in a slightly aggrieved tone of voice, sitting down on a couch opposite and pulling at the dressing gown to make sure it’s covering all the right parts.
I didn’t exactly waste any time looking through the suitcase for my nightgown before getting into bed this morning, and so I might not be wearing that much right about now…something I’m uncomfortably aware of as we sit here casually facing each other.
“I know, but I have bad news for you, and that’s not the sort of thing you want to wait to hear, now is it?” He’s still got that infuriating lightness to his tone and I throw my head back against the plush couch with a groan.
Is everything just a joke to him?
“More bad news?” I ask, disbelieving. “I’ll wait. Definitely.”
“Sorry, Princesca. I’m afraid this can’t.”
“If it has anything to do with trains—”
He chuckles. He actually laughs about it. “No trains - I promise you that.”
“Did your parents disapprove of me enough that I have to go back home immediately?” I ask, and my tone might even be slightly hopeful.
I’m not sure that counts as bad news, Hanna…
“No. Quite the opposite, actually—”
“What, you mean they approved of that display earlier?” I stare at him.
“Well, no. Not really, but—”
I groan again. “What did they say?”
“Hanna. Are you going to let me tell you this, or what?” He cuts through my questions, and I close my eyes.
“Okay, okay. What is it?” I figure I’m not getting back to sleep until I hear it, anyway.
“We have to go to dinner tonight - with the rest of the court.”
He’s watching me carefully as he says it, and my stomach does that increasingly familiar flipping motion, even though I don’t quite know what ‘going to dinner with the court’ means. But it sounds ominous.
