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“Why thank you, kind sir!” she replies in a thick US-southern drawl, dipping into a deep curtsey.
Andela does the trumpet thing again. “Lady Eva Hertzsprung of Rotheberg!”
My heart stops in anticipation. When Eva comes into view, it thunders ahead at double its normal pace. She is stunning. The black dress clings to her body, hinting at curves she normally keeps hidden. She pauses on the top step, her gaze darting toward us. Her eyes meet mine, and everything else fades to nothing. We stare for a timeless moment.
Andela breaks the spell with another fanfare. “Get moving, Eva. We’ve got a ball to attend.”
Eva’s face goes pink, and her eyes slide away. She hurries down the stairs, then slows as she reaches the landing. “Smile and wave, boys.” She lifts a hand.
“Not that way!” Lina demonstrates the wave. “Knuckles out!”
Eva laughs and complies, twirling her hand like she’s telling a taxi driver to circle the block.
Andela comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll have to work on that. Luckily, we won’t need to wave tonight.”
My throat goes tight when Eva takes a step down, revealing the slit in her dress. I’ve seen more of her legs almost every summer when she wears shorts, but there’s something about the dress that makes it so much more sensual. I suppose that’s why the designers made it that way.
When she reaches the bottom step, I take her hand and put it in the crook of my arm. Her fingers are warm through my sleeve, and it feels so right to have her here. I smile at her, our eyes almost on a level thanks to her sparkly, high-heeled shoes.
Andela clears her throat, bringing me back to reality. I put out my other elbow for my sister. “Shall we go?”
Olive opens the big front door, and the five of us sail out to the large car waiting in front of Rosenhäuschen. I help the girls in, then take the rear-facing seat. Hans slides in beside me, and the driver closes the door. We all stare awkwardly at each other until Eva says, “Have fun storming the castle, boys!”
The car stops. Eva reaches for the door handle, but Andela puts a hand on her arm. “Let Frederik get the door. He gets cranky if you do his job for him.”
I nod. “That is true. When I was little, I used to try to get the door open before he could get around to the passenger side. At some point—I was probably seven—Frederik took me aside and asked me to stop. He was quite stern.”
Eva’s eyes sparkle, but her hand drops back into her lap. “I don’t want a stern talking-to.”
After Frederick does his thing, we stroll up the front steps and through the huge doors leading to the entrance hall. Throngs of people fill the space. On the far side of the room, a long staircase leads to the internal doors which are closed. My phone vibrates, and I slide it from my pocket.
Andela raises a brow.
“Victoriana is coming. Time to do the family thing.” I push my elbows out, and Andela takes one.
Eva’s gaze darts to my arm, then back to my face. “Maybe I should stay here with Lina and Hans.”
“They’re coming, too.” I jerk my head at Hans. “We’re a package deal.”
Eva exchanges a look with Lina but takes my arm. I escort the ladies through the crowd. People greet me and Andela with little bows and curtseys as we sail through, but no one attempts to stop us. Several people give Eva a curious look, and more than a few disapproving glares and disappointed frowns make my heart sink.
Eva leans closer to me and whispers, “They don’t like me.”
“They don’t know you. They’re just jealous of your amazing hair.”
She snorts a little laugh.
As we climb the two dozen steps, the crowd parts before us. When we reach the inner doors, Andela releases my arm to knock three times, then twice, then twice more.
“Do you have a secret knock?” Lina asks from behind me.
I turn to look at her. “No. Andela just likes to be dramatic.” I tip my head at my sister. “Now we wait.”
Lina and Hans shuffle on the step behind us, but we don’t speak. I watch the crowd below, who watch us in turn. After a few minutes, the throngs on the steps part again, and Victoriana and her fiancé, a large, quiet, minor noble from England named Ronald, stroll up. We exchange greetings, and I introduce my friends.
Eva and Lina perform excellent—but unnecessary—curtseys; Ronald bows and we stand awkwardly in a group for a few minutes.
“Bert and Bee aren’t coming?” Hans asks.
