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Lina peers at the plaque under the heavy frame. “Not too surprising. That’s his—” She coughs suddenly, then sneezes. “Sorry. Must be my allergies. That’s the previous monarch—the father of the current Grand Duchess.”
I squint up at the handsome, dark-haired man. He wears a military uniform, but a tiny smile hovers around the corners of his mouth. “You mean dude is the grandfather of that guy—the one we saw at the bar last weekend?” I point at Eduard’s portrait. “Why would Teo look like him?” A thought pops into my head, and I gasp.
People turn to look. I smile and do my own cough. “Sorry, I’m fine.”
The guide leads us through a door at the end of the room and into another long, tall space. “This is the throne room. Please stay on the carpet, behind the ropes. This is where Grand Duchess Karolina Vladislava Amalia Florentia von Freiberg receives official visitors.”
I tune out the guide’s rehearsed speech and grab Lina’s arm, pulling her a few steps from the other students. “You don’t suppose Teo is—what’s the polite term? From the wrong side of the blanket?”
Lina snorts, then covers her laughter with a hand. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t a bastard child of the last grand duke, if that’s what you mean. Grand Duke Florian would have been near sixty when Teo was born.”
I raise a brow. “Lots of men have children at sixty. Just look at Hollywood. But no, I’ve met his mom and dad. He looks a lot like both of them. Maybe it’s just a throwback to a common ancestor or something.”
“Or something.” Lina pushes me toward the exit as the rest of our group leaves the throne room. “You’ll have to ask him.”
We trail out the door and into another massive room. This one has an intensely shiny parquet floor, with huge mirrors on the side walls all surrounded by gilt cupids and flowers. We dutifully listen to the description of the grand ballroom, then follow the crowd down a hall and through a low door into an ancient stone circular stairway. At the bottom, a vaulted tunnel leads away in both directions. We pass numerous closed wood doors tucked into stone alcoves, stopping at a roped-off opening to gawk at the old kitchen. Then we peer through the open door to a huge and empty wine cellar and tromp up a dim, sloping passage toward a thick wooden door.
The guide opens the door, and brilliant sunlight streams in, silhouetting her against the afternoon light. “The gift shop is right across the courtyard. Once you exit the shop, the tour is complete. You can head back to the Universität or home. Thank you for touring Freiberg with me.” She delivers the last sentence as if it tastes bad, makes a jerky bow in our direction, then leads the way out.
“Eva!” Lina grabs my arm as I queue up behind the rest. She jerks her head toward one of the gloomy archways leading away from the exit. “Look!”
Teo stands in an open doorway—one that was previously closed. He’s breathing hard, as if he just beat Usain Bolt in a hundred-meter sprint. He pushes his thick, dark hair away from his blue eyes—the ones that look surprisingly like Grand Duke Florian’s—and extends a hand. “Come with me if you want to live.”
Chapter Ten
TEO
I’ve been obsessing over how to tell Eva who I am since last weekend in the bar. When my cousin summoned me to his side that night, Eduard made it clear he would be putting his big nose into my business.
Klaus, Eduard’s giant bodyguard, took me across the room to where Eduard was holding court. Klaus and Moritz, the red-haired protection officer, pushed the crowd back, leaving a conspicuous clear space around us.
I cast a look back at my table. Hans had risen—he appeared to be taking drink orders. The two giggling girls—Susan and Odele?—stared at me, eyes wide, then everyone leaned in across the table to gossip. My stomach tightened, wondering what Andela, Hans, or Lina might let slip to Eva.
Eduard cleared his throat, and I swung back to face my cousin and future head of state. “What can I do for you, Eddie?”
He flinched at the hated nickname, then sneered. “Just checking in with my little cousin.” Baiting him probably wasn’t my smartest move. I’m actually a few months older than him, but since I’m number six in the succession, he likes to talk down to me. He doesn’t realize he’s exposing his own inferiority complex.
“I’m fine, thanks. Did you need something?” I considered chugging the last of his beer. If we were at home, I’d have done it, but in public I’m honor-bound to maintain the dignity of his position, and stealing the Hereditary Grand Duke’s beer is probably not a way to reinforce the grandeur of his station.
He grabbed the handle of his personalized beer stein as if he sensed my thoughts. The establishment keeps the gaudy porcelain mug hanging above the bar for the Hereditary Grand Duke’s pleasure and as advertisement of their famous patron. If I’d noticed it when we arrived, I would have suggested a different bar. He sipped the beer and returned it to the counter. “Can’t I have a pleasant conversation with my cousin in a bar?”
I thought hard about my response. Excusing myself to return to my friends might have resulted in him following me—something I didn’t want to chance. Our relationship would definitely have come up, and I didn’t want Eva to learn about it from him. “Sure. I didn’t think you were interested in hanging out with me.”
He waved a hand at the crowd around us. Many of them had turned away, continuing to drink and chat with their friends. A few still watched from beyond the two bodyguards, anxious to get close to Eduard and the prestige of partying with the heir.
A twinge of pity sliced through me. I know well the claws of imposter syndrome—those niggling fears that people only want to be my friend because of my position. It was one of many reasons my father had protected us from notoriety both here and in the States. How much worse must it be for Eduard?
He jerked a thumb at my table. “I want to meet your harem. Those are some hot chicks.”
My sympathy evaporated. “They aren’t a harem or chicks. They’re friends.”
“Whatever. They want to get closer to the power.” He turned the thumb toward himself with an arrogant smirk. “Why not give ’em a thrill?”
“Don’t you have enough female companionship eager to spend time with you?” I nodded at the tipsy woman leaning into Moritz’s restraining arm. “You don’t want to upset your loyal fans.”
“They’ll get over it. Seriously. Send them over.” He turned away to down his beer, then snapped his fingers. The bartender who had been hovering at the far end of the bar hurried toward us to fulfill the royal summons.
At my obvious dismissal, Moritz and Klaus released the mob, and they swarmed past me to Eduard like bees to their queen. I fought my way against the tide, taking my time while I tried to figure out how to keep Eva away from Eduard.
