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Victoriana winces a little at the nicknames. My siblings and I went by shortened or Americanized versions of our family names when in the US. Victoriana has decided they aren’t dignified enough for royalty. “Bertrand and Bianka are in college in the US. They claim they couldn’t get away. My brother, Khristof, was going to fly in from Cambridge, but he caught a cold this week.”
Sure, he did. None of us have ever enjoyed the Freiberg Gala. Maybe this year will change that.
As Victoriana speaks, the large carved wood panels behind me hinge inward. People in the hall kind of lean forward, then flow back, like a wave hitting the top of its run up a beach.
Andela squeezes my elbow. “That’s our cue.” We let Victoriana and Ronald go first, then Andi sails slowly toward the entrance, pulling me with her. I tow Eva in turn, and Hans and Lina fall in behind us. As we cross the threshold, a deep voice announces, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Karola Andela Louisa of Freiberg, His Royal Highness Prince Sebastien Teodor Florian of Freiberg. Herr Hans Ingolf, Ms Eva Hertzsprung, Madame Evalina D’Aramitz.”
We cross a wide balcony to another stone balustrade where we can see down into the ballroom. Graceful stairs curve down on either side. The big room is empty except for the string quartet playing on a small stage on the right and the Grand Duchess and Eduard, who wait at the end of the long red carpet that runs from the foot of the left-hand stairs, up the side of the room, then across the front to them.
Eva leans closer as we start down the steps. “I would have expected them to make an entrance later.”
Andela peeks around me to answer. “It’s tradition for the Freiberg Gala. The monarch greets all of her subjects.” She rolls her eyes. “Subjects. Ugh.”
Eva’s lips quirk. “I guess that’s one advantage to being American. I am subject to no one.”
“Except your family, your boss, your teachers…” Andela taps a finger against her chin as she goes on. “Your city council, your?—”
“But I can walk away.” Eva nudges me with her elbow. “I could turn and walk out right now, and no one could do anything. Well, I suppose the Grand Duchess could have me deported.”
“I think it’s mostly semantics,” I say. We reach the bottom of the staircase, and I turn our little trio right. Although the organizers probably expected people to approach in couples, the red carpet is wide enough for all three of us.
“Dude, get the lead out. I’m getting bored back here.” Hans’s voice carries easily to me—but is hopefully covered at a distance by the string quartet. I shoot a quick look at my aunt, but she hasn’t reacted.
I whisper over my shoulder, “We are processing in a dignified and graceful manner.” I can almost hear his eyes roll in response.
Unhindered by my desire for the aforementioned dignity and grace, Andela cranes her head around, crosses her eyes, and sticks her tongue out at Hans. He and Lina dissolve into giggles.
“Cut it out, you two.” Eva stage-whispers over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter. “You’re embarrassing Teo. If you don’t behave, he’ll have you deported.”
That sets the giggles off again. “We’ll never survive!” Lina says.
“You’re only saying that because no one ever has.” Eva and Andela say in unison.
“Inconceivable!” Hans says.
Eduard and the Grand Duchess have been watching the guests enter at the top of the stairs until now, but at Hans’s exclamation, they turn their disapproving gazes on us.
“Oops, sorry.” Hans doesn’t sound sorry. Lina’s giggles carry easily over the soft strings.
Eva squeezes my arm and gives me a sympathetic smile that warms my heart and soothes my soul. I remind myself that she’s right. Thanks to my father, I’m a free agent. I may be a prince of the realm, but Freiberg is a tiny city-state, and my years running the family business have given me skills that can be employed anywhere. I can give all of this up and go wherever I want.
I turn to tell her this, and I realize that isn’t completely true. I can’t go wherever I want. I can only go where Eva will be.
The revelation hits me like an iceberg to a transatlantic cruise ship. It’s an almost physical blow. I’ve had feelings for Eva Hertzsprung since we were kids. But it’s not just infatuation. I love her. I will always love her. And I need to tell her.
This one certainty consumes me. In a few hours, I’m leaving on a three am flight to Amsterdam, on the way to the States, and I need to tell Eva how I feel. Now. I won’t see her for weeks. My chest burns with this need.
As my mind stutters and staggers on this huge revelation, a part of me thinks, How dense are you, Teo? You’ve known for years that she’s the one—you just didn’t let yourself believe it. Or believe your feelings might be reciprocated. Why now?
Why now, indeed?
Something about that gentle squeeze to my arm and understanding smile… I look at her again. She looks incredible in the black dress and fantastic hairstyle. Very elegant. Sophisticated. Like she belongs here.
I give myself a mental shake, disgusted by that line of thought. Is that why I’m suddenly sure she’s the one? Because she looks like she fits in here, in the grand ballroom of Freiberg palace?
No, because I don’t care about any of this. I will go wherever she wants to go.
Despite my dramatic emotional epiphany, my body has continued its serene stride down the carpet between my sister and my love. I blink in surprise as we turn at the front of the room and process to the center. Behind us, a steady line of formally dressed guests and dignitaries stretches across the carpet, up the steps, and out the door.
