Page 53 of A Princess for Christmas

“Yeah, but how do youknowit’s not a date?”

“You know what? I’m done talking about this.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the mind games. This book is giving me an existential crisis. Show me your room.”

He reversed the phone and made for the bathroom. “Let me show you the soap I ate earlier.”

Chapter Ten

The next day was surprisingly fun. Marie had been busy, holed up with her father, Mr.Benz, and some other humorless-looking men—Leo had seen them all filing into a room on his way out with Gabby. He supposed this was the cabinet she’d referenced.

Frau Lehman had arranged a snowshoeing excursion, and the two city kids had had a blast tromping along forest paths under the guidance of a guy who had met them at a stable on the palace grounds. He was a groom, Leo supposed, though like “footman,” that was a job title that seemed like it should only exist in fairy tales.

Then he’d taken Gabby to the village, which in the light of day was basically a postcard. There was a central square with an enormous tree decorated in shimmering silver ribbons, and there was a little ice rink adjacent to the square. When Leo saw the latter, he resolved to come back with Marie. But then he thought better of it. Skating with the princess was a bad idea. So was slow dancing in the woods. Having snowball fights. Anything with the princess was a bad idea, basically.

Besides, he didn’t know what her level of fame was here. Could she go skating in public without it being a big production? She’d seemed friendly with the woman who owned the pub, which was a bit of a surprise, but that seemed different from being able to stroll around in what was a bustling village.

Regardless, watching Gabby take in everything with wide eyes and unabashed delight was like a sedative. It made him feel calm. Like he could relax for a while. Logically, all his same worries—about their finances, about Gabby’s well-being—were still there, but being outside his usual routine somehow made those worries feel physically far away. What had Marie called her time in New York?A surprisingly refreshing break from reality.It turned out it worked in reverse, too.

After poking around in a few shops, they settled in at the pub for a late lunch. They’d taken a seat at the bar because there was a giant gingerbread house set up behind it, where Leo guessed the liquor bottles would normally have been. Gabby had gravitated to it like it was her true north, and her effusive monologue had charmed Imogen, who was behind the bar.

“I can’t take all the credit, or even most of it,” she said. “I bake, and my friend Kai does construction.”

“The snow globe guy,” Leo said.

“The snow globe guy, but don’t let him hear you say that. He fancies himself kind of a hard-ass.” She had lowered her voice to a whisper, which seemed odd, but when she turned and said, “Kai! Are your ears burning?” Leo understood.

A big guy in a flannel shirt pulled out a barstool on the other side of Gabby.

“Kai,” Imogen said. “Meet Gabby Ricci. She’s a big fan of your work.” She gestured toward the gingerbread house.

Kai seemed a gruff sort, but only a monster—or a stick-up-his-ass king—could be immune to the admiration of a kid like Gabby. He nodded at her and said, “Thanks.”

“And this is Leo Ricci, Gabby’s brother and a friend of Princess Marie’s. The Riccis are visiting from New York for the holidays.”

Kai nodded at Leo and at Imogen when she set a beer down in front of him unasked.

Imogen, he had learned, was a talker. Like Gabby. As the proprietor of what seemed to be the most popular establishment in the village, she knew stuff. He’d heard her dish and receive gossip since they’d arrived, and she’d made no bones about trying to pump him for information. She was nice about it, but he didn’t blame her. Itwaskind of weird that someone like him would be here as a guest of someone like Marie.

But Kai was her opposite: silent, self-contained. “What’s the pie today?” he asked.

“Pork and winter greens.” Imogen nodded at Leo. “He’s having it. Ask for a review.”

Kai glanced at Leo’s plate and said, “I’ll have a club sandwich and potato salad.”

Leo did chuckle this time. Kai was a man after his own heart: silent, decisive, and fond of flannel. “So.” Leo nodded at the gingerbread house. “A mansard roof? That’s an interesting choice.”

Kai shrugged. “Lots of the original buildings in the village have that kind of roof.”

“That makes sense. I would have been tempted to go with agambrel in homage to all the barns I saw on the drive in, but you’re right; mansard is better.”

That got the guy’s attention. He turned on his stool, eyebrows raised.

“Architecture school dropout,” Leo said. “And nearly a decade on residential construction crews.” He took a swig of his beer. “No experience with pastry, though.”

“It’s surprisingly not that different once you get the hang of it.”

“You make the snow globes, too, I think?”

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