Page 41 of So This Is Christmas

For some reason that, which he hadn’t meant to be amusing, drew a chuckle from Torkel. “Everyone always said I was so intimidating, but the person to truly fear, either at the palace or on a military deployment, was you.”

Matteo knew Torkel was in jest, but he also knew there was a kernel of truth in what he’d said—and he didn’t know how he felt about that. On the one hand, he wanted to be respected, to have influence, and power. But not through fear. And he wasn’t interested in power for its own sake. He’d seen enough of that among a certain type of soldier during his stint in the military.

But he was overthinking this. Torkel had been teasing. And Matteo had been silent too long. The humor had dissipated.

“Matteo,” Torkel said with an odd sort of urgency.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He’d infused thatthank youwith enough heartfelt vehemence to make warmth blossom in Matteo’s chest. “You’re quite welcome. I can’t wait to celebrate with you both.”

Moving day dawned cold and bright, and Cara greeted it with a minor hangover and a major case of regret. She wasn’t sure what had come over her last night, accusing Mr. Benz of spying on her. She heaved herself out of bed to start packing. When she was done, she figured she ought to inform the palace that she was decamping. Not quite able to make herself pull the tasseled cord in the corner of her room to summon a servant, she set out for the breakfast room. Frau Lehman had told her, when she first arrived, that there was a buffet set up for the family each morning, and that Cara was welcome to join. She hadn’t yet, on account of the fact that she rarely ate in the mornings, but she headed there now—imagine having an entire room devoted to just one of the day’s meals—hoping she might find the king.

She found, instead, his daughter.

“Oh, Cara! Good morning! Won’t you join me?”

She helped herself to some coffee and grabbed a croissant. “I’m glad to find you here. I’m going to be moving to a room at the Owl and Spruce, and I wanted to explain why.”

She explained her reasoning, and Marie said, “This seems like a smart move. I hadn’t thought about the optics. But I guess that’s why we have you.”

“You’ll explain to your father? I don’t want to cause any offense.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, you won’t. My father is quite keen for this project to be successful, and—”

Mr. Benz came sweeping into the room. “Your Royal Highness,if I might trouble you for a moment . . .” He trailed off when he registered Cara’s presence, and his eyes flicked down to her plate. He quickly regrouped. “My apologies, I’m interrupting.”

“Not at all, Mr. Benz,” Marie said. “Join us.”

He pulled out a chair. “It’s about Torkel.”

“Oh, how is Torkel? I do hope everything is all right?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. He and Sebastien are planning to attend the Cocoa Ball. I need to speak with you regarding some of the details.”

“Good. Max was making noises about being in New York for the holidays, but I selfishly want him to come here, so if his brother is coming, it will be another arrow in my quiver.” She turned to Cara. “I’m sorry. You have no idea who any of these people are. Except Max—Max von Hansburg from the Morneau Board. He’s also my best friend. His brother is Sebastien, and Sebastien’s boyfriend is Torkel. You’ll meet them at the ball.”

“I would love to attend the ball,” Cara said, “but I’m planning to go home to my family for Christmas. I’m flying out very early on the twenty-fourth, so I’m afraid I’ll miss it.”

The princess made a good-naturedly exasperated noise. “Everyone with their families!”

“We can’t all marry orphans,” Mr. Benz said fondly. Cara had noted that Mr. Benz showed flashes of affection for all the members of the royal family, including the American interlopers, Leo and Gabby. It was odd to see that side of him.

As Cara pushed back her chair, Marie said, “Don’t leave on our account, Cara!”

“Yes, don’t let me chase you away,” Mr. Benz said, but all that warmth Cara had just noted had drained from his voice.

“I need to be going anyway. You’ll . . .” She glanced at Mr. Benz. “Pass my message on to your father with my regards?”

“I will indeed.”

She could feel Mr. Benz’s disapproving stare on her as she left. And, oddly, she could feel it all the way back to her room.

Chapter Eight

Thirteen days until Christmas

---