Page 24 of The Midnight Princess
“Why?” he asks. He couldn’t possibly take my word for it.
“Even as unignorable as you are, there will be times when you have to disappear into your royal role. Formality will allow you to do that.”
“We’re alone, Alma.” He looks left toward the valley and right toward the forest, wreathed in low clouds. “We don’t need to disappear.”
I reach for a better explanation, finding it in the number of traditional handicraft workshops I’ve toured. “Look, you were a woodworker.”
“Am.” He frowns. “I am a woodworker.”
No, he’s not. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet, that life is over. I slip a glove from my hand. “The way you asked to use my name is like picking up splinters when you don’t have to.”
I gesture for his hand and he places it in mine, palm upturned between us. I run slow repeating motions over his skin, back toward his wrist. “Call me Jacob. Pass the water. You don’t mind me doing this, right?Talking like this is like sanding across the grain.”
He gives a satisfying shudder.
“Now listen to this.” My hand reverses, running slow, easy passes in my direction. “My name is Jacob. You’re welcome to use it when you feel comfortable. May I trouble you for a glass of water?”
He’s finally understanding, but it comes with a price. My breathing is uneven, and every pass brings the sensation of fire up my arm. “Do you hear the difference?”
His fingers curl around my hand. “What I hear is that when I do it your way—”
“The royal way.”
“—I don’t get what I want.”
In his grip, I feel a ridge of calluses at the base of each finger and scrapes across the palm. I trace the scar curving over the knuckle of his thumb and turn our hands over to explore further.
The absence of sound—even of breathing—penetrates my consciousness. I tug my hand away and walk toward the safety of the palace. “Tomorrow, we have to begin moisturizing your skin.”
That evening, I elect to have dinner in my mother’s apartment, and she asks for my thoughts on this strange half-royal creature we’re incubating until the state visit. I tell her about his language proficiency. I hold the secret of my attraction for him, hiding in my careful palms. At the end of the night, I retreat to the gym.
Clara is on the stationary bike, texting on her phone, and Ella is on the floor with a manga spread out under her chin. I miss the sight of Freja doing some dumbbell lunges in the corner, ignoring us while she blasts Puccini through her earbuds.
“How bad was he?” Ella asks, turning a page and shifting into another yoga position.
“Nothing to report,” I say, beginning my warm-up.
“Why do all my sisters lie to my face?” Ella grunts, shaking her hair out of her face.
Clara rolls her eyes. “Stultes es, get over yourself. Freja’s wedding wasn’t personal.”
Ella crashes to the ground, a sheen of sweat on her face. “We shared a womb. Of course it’s personal.”
“We can’t make the stroopwafel twice,” I cut in. What’s done is done.
I sacrifice myself for familial peace. “Would it interest you to know that the Crown Prince of Vorburg is a walking diplomatic disaster?” I turn the treadmill to my preferred settings and pick up my pace, visualizing my royal duties hailing me from the palace grounds, flat-footed and dithering, while I speed away.
Clara joins my peace project. “Ooh, do tell. What’s he like?”
“I thought he was nice,” Ella says. “Big and nice. He’ll do fine.”
I dig into my stride, springing off the balls of my feet, pacing myself. Ella’s words could describe a well-kept lawn, not a manwho brings every nerve to attention when he walks into a room. “Nice isn’t going to help him become a crown prince,” I say. “He doesn’t care about titles. He doesn’t think I have anything to teach him. I’m not even sure he wants to be here.”
“You sound like one of the guys fromFive Minutes to Marry. You know,” Clara’s voice drops into a gruff impression of a reality show bro, brows comically tented. “I just want to make sure she’s here for the right reasons.”
Ella laughs but my thoughts catch on the memory of Jacob kicking the snow into steps.Big and nice.There are other words I could use to describe the crown prince.
Obstinate.
