“I still have it!”
“Good.”
I avoid looking at Glen or Anders. “I’ve only misplaced it once before.”
“You delayed getting official business done.”
I hesitate. “Please clear my schedule. I want to devote my time to my guests. I can’t spend my days writing letters in my office.”
I wait for Olav to scold me, but he brightens.
“Actually, I have something new. This will be the perfect time to test it!”
“You’re not upset at me?”
Olav waves his hand nonchalantly. “I am a very amiable person.”
“Well—”
“I am!” Olav insists. “It’s something called an AI agent. It will send e-mails for you. I took the precaution of setting it up for you already.”
“You think of everything, Olav.”
Olav shrugs. “You’re fortunate to have me.”
“Most assuredly,” I say, and his cheeks brighten even more. He looks like one of the painted nutcrackers in the hallway that I received as a gift from a Mediterranean king.
I wait in the hallway for Glen, Max and Anders to appear.
“There will be cameras,” Olav warns me.
“I am aware.”
Olav sighs.
Glen, Anders, Max and I leave the castle gates and enter the Christmas market.
We’re recognized at once.
The people nudge each other and smile at us.
I’m relieved when Glen falls into step beside me. Anders and Max stroll ahead of us.
Carolers’ songs thrum through the crisp air.
Some vendors sell spiced gingerbread cookies, Christmas sausages, and candied apples in wooden stalls. Other vendors sell candles and ceramic Christmas trolls and knitted sweaters.
Every stall looks spectacular. The vendors are delighted to see me, and I feel guilty that this is the first time I’ve visited them in person.
I explain some of the Christmas items to Max.
People wave at us, and we wave back.
Is this what I’ve been missing?
GLEN
Anders tenses, and his Adam’s apple moves rapidly. I follow his gaze to the same blond girl I noticed him look at earlier today.