Page 68 of The Dandelion Princess
“Hey—” I catch her hand as she turns, tugging her in for a deep kiss, picking out her shape with my fingertips in the velvety darkness.
I get her to lose herself for a moment before she breaks free. Taking a huge breath, she kicks me in the shins. The low sound of my laugh dissolves in the shadows.
“Coming,” Ella calls. I watch the sisters through a crack in the door. “Sorry,” she says, her acting pretty plausible. “The mechanism must be glitching.”
Freja is quiet and her eyes narrow on Ella’s face. “Did you have shellfish?”
“What?”
“Your face is red and your lips are swollen. You know you’re not supposed to eat shrimp when you’re alone. Let me call Doctor Frum—”
“I’m fine,” Ella replies. “I took a pill. I’m already past the worst of it.” I sometimes forget how well she lies when I’m not looking for it. “What brings you to my lair?”
“Oskar and I had dinner with Mama and Père,” Freja says, looking over Ella’s shoulder. I shrink into the shadows, my heart beating loudly in my ears.
“Both of them at the same time?” Ella asks, resting her hand on the doorframe, blocking it.
“They’re putting on a good show for Oskar,” Freja answers.
“Of course. Putting on shows is what we do.”
I frown at the bitterness in her voice. Ella is not like her sisters. If her nanny wrestled her into those little-girl dresses with the white collars, she’d march herself through the nearest puddle. She would make faces at the paparazzi and melt down on the tarmac whenever her mother’s plane lifted off while everyone else was standing sedately. She used to tear through the administration wing, upsetting the royal order with a laugh no one but her mother could resist.
She’s not laughing now.
Freja dips her head. “Can I come in? We could talk about it.”
“I’m just headed out,” Ella says. She reaches for a hoodie, shoves her phone into her pocket, and bundles Freja into the hall, staring pointedly at the crack in the closet before she goes.
I check my phone, the screen illuminating the closet. 20:49. I’m still supposed to be on the road.
I settle into a low chair and begin responding to work emails. This used to exhaust me but it’s become more like a simple game ofDrop Bloks. Every line I strike off my to-do list means more time to be with Ella. This part of the arrangement is working out, more or less as I hoped.
Eventually she returns and worms her way into my lap. “I had to walk her to her car, say hi to Oskar…”
I tug the ears of her hoodie until it falls away, nuzzling her cold skin. “You’re keeping her at arm’s distance.”
Ella tenses. “Would you rather have me invite her in?”
I breathe against her neck. “Your family isn’t doing well.”
She releases a sharp-edged laugh. “Ten points for Team van Heyden.”
“Reporters haven’t worked out that your parents aren’t the happy couple they present themselves as?”
She dips her head, planting a soft kiss on my earlobe, following it with the brush of her thumb. “Not yet. There isn’t a whisper of it in the press. My sisters have them distracted with their ever-growing baggage train of calamities. Thank heaven for small miracles.”
I catch her hand, holding on to my sanity. “What are you going to do about it?”
She lifts her head. “These aren’t my problems. Mama and Père have been keeping separate quarters for more than a year. Every one of my sisters is going her own way. I haven’t done anything but show up and do as I’m told.”
My arms crisscross her back. “Family is everything. You can’t abandon them when they need you.”
“Marc.” My name on her lips is threaded through with hurt.Vede, I didn’t mean it as an accusation. “They don’t want to be rescued.”
I gather her closer, burying myself in the crook of her neck. “You’re such a middle child, though. You’re not happy unless everyone is happy.”
“False. I want them to suffer.”
