Page 54 of The Dandelion Princess
“What’s up?”
“I’m bringing Freja’s husband Oskar and Clara’s boyfriend Max—”
“The national hero?”
“That’s the one. Crown Prince Jacob will be there, too.”
“From Vorburg? Is this diplomacy?”
“No. Has Ella said anything about what’s going on with Alma and him?”
Ella hasn’t been telling me nearly enough. “I’ve seen the gossip about them in the papers. I hear the overheated prayers of half the country hoping they’ll get together. Is your mother really going to press for a match?”
A pause. “It’s not my mother and it’s not gossip. Alma created this problem all on her own.”
My gaze lifts to Ella and I parse out the implications at once. The queen is in a tight spot. If her other daughters can’t be counted on to carry on the family tradition of loveless, strategically beneficial marriages, her pawns have been whittled down to Noah and Ella.
Stultes es.
“My mother wants them to go public all at once,” Noah continues. “She thinks it’ll help to rip the bandaid off until someone produces a grandbaby and the topic changes.”
“Won’t I be a distraction?”
“You’re not in love with one of my sisters, are you?” He answers his own question. “Having you there will make the narrative a little less obvious.”
Ella, having returned the tiara to the case, has her thumb in the divot of her chin and another finger between her brows. She’s explaining the correct proportions of wearing a tiara, andJang Mi mirrors her with a laugh. I brush the damask cushion with the tips of my fingers, following the sinuous curves. If I’m going to say something about my shifting emotions, now is the time. The words crowd my throat.
“Marc?”
Maybe we can do this. Maybe Noah wouldn’t mind me dating his sister. Maybe Alix wouldn’t resent me for making her wedding season all about me and what I want. Maybe—
Ella hugs Jang Mi. She picks up her bag and gives me a quick, perfunctory wave and then she’s out the door. She’s already moved on.
I release a breath. “Yeah. I’m free.”
The favor isn’t even going to be difficult. Ella won’t be there. I won’t have to fight to control my expression or my devouring gaze when the camera is trained on our seats. I can sacrifice a little privacy, complicating the press narrative of what is—what did Ella call it? A soft launch.
“Send me the details,” I say. “Later.” I hit a button and look up.
“Does the prince know?” Jang Mi asks, suddenly near. “About you and his sister.”
“There’s nothing to know.”
Jang Mi twists her lips, skepticism in the crooked line. “But you said—”
“I’m not a lovesick teenager,” I cut her off. I’m not going to lock myself in my bedroom and write badchanggainspired by how much I want Ella.
We rest under a velvet black sky,
Two hands dipped in a river,
Dragged by a single current…
I reach for the switch and plunge the illuminated display case into darkness.
“This will be over before summer.”
18
