Page 39 of Will You (Not) Marry Me

Eva had somehow managed to keep her mind blank, not thinking about Finn, certainly not thinking about their child that was growing inside her. Not thinking about the future, none of it. It had allowed her to be practical. To book plane tickets and pack a backpack with essentials and remember to grab her passport. But now, as she and Abbie stood by the curb outside their apartment building in the cold, waiting for a cab to show up and take them to the airport, the thoughts were starting to trickle back in, and Eva’s anxiety was starting to spike in response.

“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked, her breath puffing out in a cloud as she looked over at Abbie.

Abbie scrunched up her face in thought before she answered.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Is it the perfect situation? Nope. Are you doing the best with what you’ve got? Yeah, I’d say so.” She nodded firmly once and then went back to watching the road for their cab as if the matter were settled.

It was all the reassurance Eva needed. They would fly to Eschenberg, she would tell Finn to his face, he could get on with his life as the crown prince and king that he was always meant to be, and she could come back to New York and… well, she’d figure something out.

* * *

Not paying attention to the date, Eva realized only as they landed that it was Eschenberg’s national holiday. Even in the airport there were streamers of blue, yellow and white, and the second they stepped outside the national colors were inescapable, from outfits to face paint. Eva and Abbie stuck out like a sore thumb until Abbie bought an overpriced flag from a vendor and strung it over her shoulders, walking behind Eva like a very awkward, very small superhero.

Eschenberg was similar to Skärov in a lot of ways, one way being that despite being a small country, if given a reason to celebrate or have a day off work, their people would flood the streets and make you think that they had the biggest population in the world. Traffic had been entirely blocked off from the city center and people flooded through every available space. Eva and Abbie had to elbow their way through as best they could.

Eva had dressed in the rattiest of her New York finery, her blond hair tucked up under a woolen hat so people wouldn’t recognize her. It had worked beautifully so far, no one even offering her a passing glance.

The downside with being anonymous was she couldn’t just magically snap her fingers and be let into the palace.

“So,” said Abbie as the palace, distant behind the fences and gates, finally came into view. “How do we get inside to find this guy?”

Eva couldn’t help but smile. She’d become friends with Abbie in the first place because Abbie truly did not care that she was a princess. And so, by the same logic, Finn Baumann, Crown Prince of Skärov, had been demoted to being “some guy.” He’d think it was refreshing, Eva thought. Then she had to force herself not to think about what would or wouldn’t make Finn happy.

“We’re not going to be able to get in,” she said. “Not through the main entrance, anyway. Not with their security.”

“Just tell them who you are.”

“Yeah, they’ll love that.” Eva winced at the thought. If the guards didn’t laugh in her face and actually did take her seriously, Finn’s family would never accept an audience from her, especially looking like this. Nothing happened in the royal sphere without a heavily scheduled appointment. And after their son’s disaster of an engagement to her, Eva didn’t exactly expect to be on any guest lists in the future.

“Do we need to climb up a wall into a window? Like a reverse Rapunzel or something?”

“As if we’re fit enough to climb up a wall,” said Eva, shoving her way further through the crowds.

“For you, I would figure it out,” said Abbie pointedly. “I’d probably throw my back out doing it, but I’d get it done. I’d scrabble up like a little chipmunk or something.”

“Yeah, I know you would.”

Under different circumstances, Eva would have scooped Abbie up into a grateful hug right then and there. But they were in danger of getting trampled by overexcited revelers, so hugs would have to wait.

“We won’t have to do anything quite so dramatic as climbing up walls like woodland creatures,” Eva said, taking Abbie by the hand and leading her friend through the crush. “I know a way into the outer yard, at least.”

Getting through to the fence that surrounded the palace was a lost cause; people were packed too tightly, waving flags, shouting at friends, and trying to take photos with their phones raised high. So Eva opted for a different route, tugging Abbie and her flag along behind her.

Finally able to get into the less crowded alleys and back streets, they picked up their pace, starting to jog.

“Where are we going?” puffed Abbie, starting to sound slightly worried. They were in what appeared to be an abandoned alley, the brick walls of a warehouse on one side and the unruly hedge on the other. Eva slowed down, hoping that the hole in the fence hadn’t been fixed, hoping that Finn hadn’t changed his system for marking his secret getaway entrance. She spotted the red circle among the other graffiti on the wall and skidded to a halt.

“Here,” Eva said, digging into the branches to find the gap. “Hopefully.”

“This is some secret spy-level stuff,” said Abbie. “I love it.”

With that, Eva nearly fell through the hedge as her unpracticed hands found the gap that would allow her through the hole in the fence.

“C’mon,” she hissed and reached back, pulling Abbie through along with her. The fence, thankfully, had not been repaired, and Eva and Abbie were able to slip through.

The courtyard was deserted, of course. Everybody would be towards the front of the palace, preparing their speeches, readying themselves to go out onto the balconies or in front of a television camera and wave to the distant crowds. Eva brushed the stray twigs off of her clothes and pulled her phone out from her pocket.

Abbie, meanwhile, after threatening to climb up a wall like a chipmunk, really was looking like a woodland creature, staring up at the palace courtyards above and around them, leaves in her hair, her cape askew.

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