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But will they? Their job is to protect the duke, not restrain random women. I hope. Although I was flattered when Eduard invited me to his home this evening, he’s really not my type. From what Lina told me after we saw him at the pub, he’s a typical wealthy playboy, and I’m not interested in being his flavor of the week.
I’m also not ready for a serious relationship with a royal from Europe. I have two more terms of school to complete back in Oregon. After that, who knows? I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, but being a Grand Duchess is not on the short list.
Eduard takes my hand. “I’d like to spend more time with you, Eva. Just you.” He gives me a soulful look that feels practiced, as if someone told him, “This is how you make the ladies swoon.”
Kind of icky.
“Why?” I hate having to turn a guy down, and I’ve learned asking this question sometimes does the job for me.
Eduard jaws for a moment. “Because I like you?”
“You don’t seem too sure. And you hardly know me.”
“Then let’s get to know each other.” He tugs my hand.
I pull away. “Look, you’re a great guy—” I wave my hands at the stately room. “But I’m not sure all of this is for me. I’m a loud, impulsive American. Not really royal material.”
Eduard chokes. “I’m not asking to marry you. I thought we could have a good time. American girls are always up for a good time, right?”
Ugh. “Not all of us. I’m sure there are plenty of women who would love to spend time with you.”
“I want you.” He tries to take my hand again.
I put my hands behind my back. “I’m not really in Freiberg to date. There are lots of other things I want to do, and having a boyfriend is… well no offense, but having to check in with someone else will?—”
“Whoa, sweetheart, I didn’t say boyfriend. I said I want to have some fun. You like to have fun, right?” He seems strangely incompetent at flirting. Of course, women probably throw themselves at the Hereditary Grand Duke, so he doesn’t need to be charming. He can pick up a new girl every time he goes out.
“Thanks for the kind offer, but the answer is no.” I take a step back, hoping he recognizes the sarcasm in my voice. “Thanks for the pizza. See you around, I’m sure.” I swing away and fling the door open.
The probably priceless door bangs into the undoubtedly ancient wall, and I flinch. My friends’ heads snap toward me in surprise. I hope it didn’t leave a mark. I don’t want to cause an international incident. Again.
“Yikes. That was kind of violent. You ready to go?” I push past Teo and down the hallway.
The security guy steps in front of me. “The exit is the other way, Miss. Have a good evening.”
“Oops. Sorry.” I swing around. “Does anyone know how to get out of here?”
Teo raises a hand. “Follow me.”
The next few weeks pass in a flurry of activity. My history and management classes take time but aren’t difficult. My German class requires a lot of study and even more practice. I spend many hours at movies and museums, trying to immerse myself in the language. Hans, Teo, and Lina often accompany me, and I insist we speak only German, which is frustrating but helpful.
“There’s a Harry Potter marathon at the theater next weekend.” Lina waves her phone across the table at me. “You know those movies, right? That would be perfect language practice.”
I push my lunch aside and lean forward to look at the screen. “I’ve seen Prisoner of Azkaban probably a dozen times. It’s my favorite. That website is terrible on a phone. Lemme grab my laptop.” I unzip my backpack and pull out the computer. Opening the top, I connect to the internet and type in the URL Lina reads off to me.
Text appears in German. I had my friend Rob set up my laptop so it doesn’t automatically translate to English. Which is why I usually use my phone, totally subverting the plan. The images populate, displaying a super close-up of an unexpected but somewhat familiar face. “Is that Nicholas Cage?”
“What? No, he wasn’t in Harry Potter.” Lina leans across the table and rotates my laptop so she can see the screen. “It doesn’t look like that on my phone.”
I hit the menu button and load another page. More images of Nicholas Cage appear. “What the heck?”
“Is that Ghost Rider?”
“I have no idea.” I go to Google and search on movies showing in Freiberg. Then search restaurants. Clothing stores. Bookstores. Every page loads more Nick Cage. “Dad!”
Lina frowns. “Dad?”
“It’s a prank. My dad and I prank each other. I’m sure he set this up.” I click Google again, and type in all images Nicholas Cage. The top result looks promising. “He said he had some kind of ultimate prank…See—there’s an extension you can load in Chrome to make this happen.” I click the little puzzle piece and uninstall it. “I wonder how he delayed it like this? I’ve been using this computer since I got here. Rob must have helped him. He’s a computer genius. I can’t believe he?—”
