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“Ooh, like a royal ball? See—he definitely likes you if he’s taking you to officially meet the family.”
“Actually, I’ve already met the heir.” I wrinkle my nose. “And I’m not sure I’ll meet the Grand Duchess. In fact, she kind of said I wasn’t welcome.”
“And he’s taking you anyway?” Nica fans herself. “That’s hot. You need to tell him if you feel the same.”
“I’m not sure?—”
Dad grabs the phone. “Just do it. Go big or go home.”
Nica leans in again. “If there’s a reason you can’t be together, he’ll tell you. But he’s not going to say he isn’t interested. No way.”
Dad nods. “He’s got it bad. Has for years. Can’t believe you didn’t know.”
“I guess I didn’t know anything about him! That’s the problem!”
“Talk to him.” Dad nods at Nica with a silly grin. “Make a move. That’s what Nica did.”
“I remember, Dad. I was there.” I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it. Thanks for the pep talk. Now I need to see if I can get back to sleep. And maybe I’ll call you in about six hours.” I grin evilly.
“No.” He points a finger at me. “I don’t condone abusing quiet time, except in extreme circumstances.” He waves the cookie bag at the screen again.
I snicker. “I’ll let the sweet memory of your cookie trauma lull me back to sleep.”
“The love between a father and daughter is heart-warming.” Nica gives a finger wave. “Bye, Eva. Good luck.”
“Bye, Nica. Bye, cookie man.”
He rolls his eyes. “Love you, punk.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
When she found out Teo invited us, Andi insisted Lina and I dress with her for the Freiberg Gala. Not just put on our clothes at her house, but actually be dressed by the royal stylist. It’s a good thing she doesn’t have classes on Fridays because Lina is so excited, she couldn’t eat breakfast this morning. We shower but don’t wash our hair—as instructed by Mareike, the hairstylist, via a text from Andi—and head into town before noon.
“It feels wrong to be bringing nothing.” Lina holds out both hands as we wait for the F-bahn train. Her once white cast is nearly covered with colorful drawings and signatures and is starting to look a little grubby in her palm. “I wish I could take this thing off.”
“Three more days.” I zip my puffer coat and pull my gloves out of the pockets. “Aren’t you freezing?”
Lina’s coat—a long wool thing with a fur-edged hood—hangs open over her T-shirt and leggings. “Not really. I’m too excited to be cold. Did you know Lady Elizabeta of Brendenburg is supposed to be there tonight? And Prince Georg of Liechtenstein? And?—”
“Yes, I know. You’ve told me at least three times today. I heard the Belgian royal family is coming, too.”
She waves her good hand. “Belgium. Whatever. I see them all the time.”
“You do? Like IRL?”
“I wish. No, on Insta. But my sister is friends with the crown princess. Or so she claims.” Lina’s sister Marguerite is currently in the doghouse—she never came back after her pre-Halloween visit. Lina is planning on getting even by posting pictures of the royal event.
We take the train to Andi’s place, but Celeste is waiting by the front door. “You may wait in the car. The princess will be down shortly.” She nods at a huge black Mercedes idling at the curb, its lights on and windows dark. Beside it, a burly man wearing a dark gray suit stands at attention.
Lina and I exchange a confused look but climb in when the man opens the door. I turn to ask Celeste what’s going on, but the driver shuts the door in my face. “I guess we’re going somewhere.”
“That makes sense. It’s not like Andi has room in her apartment for a stylist and a bunch of dresses.” Lina leans across me to peer out the darkened window.
“I dunno, that apartment is pretty big.”
“Maybe she has a Narnia closet.” While we wait, we invent stories of how many dresses could fit in Andi’s home.
Finally, the door opens, and Andi slides in on my other side. The front doors open and close, but we can’t see who gets in thanks to the smoked glass between us. As we pull away from the curb, Lina pelts Andi with questions.
