Chapter 27 #2
I recognize most of the other people in the room.
Friedrich’s brother gives me a wink over Princess Beatrix’s shoulder, who turns to see who he’s flirting with.
She sees me and breaks into a smile, offering a delicate finger wave, which I return.
The younger princesses are locked in conversation with a middle-aged woman I don’t recognize.
They pay Friedrich and me no notice. I don’t see the queen anywhere, though.
“She’s got to make her grand entrance,” Friedrich whispers to me as if reading my mind.
“It is her birthday after all,” I supply.
He huffs a laugh. “Oh no, Mother is all about the dramatics, birthday or no.” He takes my hand and places it in the crook of his elbow. “Here, let me introduce you around.”
The woman talking to Friedrich’s sisters is one of Queen Jacqueline’s ladies-in-waiting. Her thick French accent is hard to cut through, and she seems a bit severe, like she’s used to being one of the most important people in the room.
The Princesses Anneliese and Lorelei share a look when Friedrich introduces me, but then we curtsy, and they start peppering me with questions about America until Friedrich drags me away to continue around the room.
He takes me next to his grandmother, and I drop low into my best curtsy. The Queen Mother is quite reclusive, an enigma to the public since the death of her husband more than thirty years ago. I’m sure the exile of her eldest son had a bit to do with her retreat as well.
“Your Majesty,” I say, eyes still on the floor, my back starting to protest this bowed position.
“Stand, child.” Her voice is strong and melodic, like old church bells.
I meet her eyes and see Friedrich’s staring back out at me. The genetics are strong in this family. I remember meeting King Aldric at the train station, realizing I’m looking at Friedrich in twenty years.
Why is my brain conjuring images of little auburn-haired babies with crazy blue eyes?
“And where did you find this one, Fritz?” she asks, still surveying me like a prized heifer. I swear she’s going to pat my rump soon.
“Granny, this is my friend Aurelia,” Friedrich introduces.
“Friend…” She raises an eyebrow in such a perfect imitation of Maggie Smith. I fear she’s about to scold me for bringing shame on Downton or something.
Friedrich clears his throat. “Yes, Granny. Friend.”
“My dearest Friedrich. I have seen many friends in my day, and none look at each other the way you look at her.”
Criminy, this woman is perceptive. It’s a wonder there are any secrets around this place.
“Is she a witch?” I hiss in Friedrich’s ear.
This earns a chuckle from both of them. The Queen Mother takes my hand in hers and gives it a gentle pat.
“I like this one, Fritz. She has spirit.”
The prince places his hand on my lower back, applying gentle pressure, and I pick up his cue. We bow to his grandmother and then continue the lap around the room. He leaves his hand on my back as we move from person to person, and his gentle guidance keeps my nerves mostly at bay.
The queen still hasn’t made her entrance by the time we reach King Aldric and his younger son in the far corner of the room. It’s a wonder anyone around here has fully functioning knees with all the bending and posturing.
“If I had known we were showing off our latest conquests, I would have asked that figure skater from last night to join us,” Prince Claus drawls as I straighten.
My blushing reflex had stayed in check so far, until that comment. Friedrich chokes and shoots his brother a death glare.
The king shakes his head and sighs. “Claus, wherever did we go wrong with you?”
The younger prince shrugs. “We all have our hobbies, Father. Mother gardens, Friedrich works on his house, you work on your cars, I practice naked yoga with beautiful women.”
That earns him another cough from Friedrich and a groan from his father.
“Son, leave before I decide to disinherit you.”
Claus tugs on the bottom of his blue suit jacket, puffing his chest out.
“You say that all the time, Father, but I know deep down, you wish you could be as free as I.” He bends and kisses the king on the cheek, then turns to me.
“A pleasure to see you again, Golden Girl.” He tips an imaginary hat, shooting me a lascivious wink before strutting to the other side of the room.
“That boy is going to be the death of me,” Father mutters.
“And us all,” Friedrich agrees, his hand flexing on my back. My chest swells at the possessive gesture.
The king turns back to me, extending his hand, which I take, and he places a soft kiss to my knuckles, just as his son always does. His hand feels thin and fragile. Long, bony fingers with skin a little too loose around the joints.
“A pleasure to be formally introduced, Miss Sumner.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, good, you did not start without me,” a sweet-sounding French accent comes from behind us.
Everyone turns and dips into a bow, except the Queen Mother, who remains sitting, and of course, the king, who bows to no one.
She nods to the room and then strides to her husband, absolutely stunning in a simple midi dress with sheer, billowing sleeves in the exact shade of blue as her cake.
She gives the king a quick kiss on the cheek, one foot lifting off the floor delicately as she leans into him.
King Aldric beams and pulls her to his side.
“We would never dream of starting without you, blossom.”
Blossom? God, that’s so cute! Friedrich’s hand on my back slips to my hip, pulling me in closer. I catch him looking down at me for a split second before his attention returns to his parents.
“Thank you so much, everyone,” Queen Jacqueline continues. “For joining me today. I suppose I have kept you all waiting long enough. Let us dine together.”
She makes a sweeping gesture at the table, and everyone begins to file in. The king has a hand on the chair to the right of the head of the table, but the queen places a hand over his.
“Mon coeur, do you mind very much if our Miss Sumner were to sit next to me today?” She blends the perfect amount of sweet pout into her question, and I can see the effect it has on her husband. This woman could get anything she wants out of the most powerful man in the country.
“I certainly do not mind, my flower.”
King Aldric pulls the chair away from the table and motions for me to sit. I’m not sure the protocol on this, the king pulling out my chair for me. I glance up to Friedrich, who gives me an encouraging smile and nod. It seems Friedrich comes by his charm naturally.
With everyone settled, men in morning jackets begin circling the table with platters of food, and people serve themselves from the plates. Bowls of a seafood soup are set at everyone’s place, and a bread basket is passed up and down the table as chatter fills the room again.
“So, tell me, my dear Miss Sumner,” the queen begins when the servers have returned to their posts along the walls. “My son has told me you are from America. Whatever brought you to Emarvia?”
“I was actually born here, Your Majesty. My parents met when my mother was studying abroad during her final semester in college. He must have swept her off her feet because she came back after graduation, and they married not long after.”
I catch a knowing glance between the king and queen, and so much is conveyed between them with just their eyes.
These are two people so in love. It’s no wonder Friedrich is holding out for his perfect match.
After watching his parents, it must be hard to think of settling.
If only every love story could be so beautiful.
“Why did your family return to America?” the king asks.
“I was very young, but from what I could tell, my mother never really felt at home here, so we moved to her hometown in Louisiana when I was two years old.”
My mom is a small-town girl, and as she would tell the story, the hustle of the capital and the colder climate never sat well with her.
She would claim she felt homesick while living abroad and missing family, but I can count on two hands the number of times we visited her mother or aunts during my childhood.
“And what brought you back to our little island?”
I knew the question would come eventually; it always does. But I haven’t even told Friedrich the whole story yet. I take a deep breath.
“My father left when I was twelve. As much as the city life didn’t suit my mother, the country was even worse on my father.
” I remember his disdain for the monotony of small-town life, his contempt for the regulars at the bar where he worked, and the pure hatred of the religious zealotry that seemed to gloss over the love thy neighbor bit but focused heavily on the faults of others.
And the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed to deal with all of it.
“He came back to his home country, I guess, out of comfort and familiarity. I saved my money as I worked through high school and relied on the generosity of my father’s aunt to house me so I could attend university here. ”
I pause, remembering Trixie’s lesson in showing no weakness or uncertainty and manage to keep from fidgeting.
Leaving my mother wasn’t particularly difficult.
She worked multiple jobs to keep us afloat, and so we were never close.
But my father. When he wasn’t drunk, he was the best dad.
I push away the memories of him before I start to get misty in front of an audience.
“It was the best way I could think of to try and find my dad again,” I finally say.
Friedrich is sitting on the other side of his father, who is next to me. He’s stopped eating and leans in a little closer. We’ve never talked about my father before. “And did you? Find him, I mean.”
“It took a little time. He didn’t reconnect with his family when he returned.”
The prince’s gaze is now unwavering. “But you were able to reconnect with him?”
“In a way. But relationships are rarely ever the same after something like that.” I return to my meal, and the queen senses the need to turn the conversation.
“My husband tells me you work for Dietrich Maier and his wife. How is dear Rebecca? She and Fritz were such close companions as children, you know?”
Thankful we’ve left my family life behind, I’m more than happy to talk about my found family.
I fill in Queen Jacqueline on the goings-on in the Maier home.
After all my time with Friedrich and watching him interact with people, I shouldn’t be amazed at her memory of people who many would think well below her noticing.
Yet, the queen asks about the children by name and recalls information like she speaks with the Maiers daily.
“And what plans do you have for the future, Miss Sumner?” the king asks from my other side.
“My hope is to stay with the Maiers until the children are too old for a nanny.”
“I always found it so difficult to hand any of my bébés off to a nanny,” the queen says with a wistful look in her eyes.
“Yet you were more than happy to send us all away to boarding school at the tender age of thirteen,” Claus calls from further down the table.
The hint of sarcasm in his voice is softened by the playful smile he shoots his mother.
I can only imagine the trouble he must have gotten himself into as a child with a grin like that.
“Do not pin that on me, my son,” the queen defends. “That was all your father’s doing.”
The king gives a noncommittal shrug. “The sooner you lot were out of our house, the sooner I could have your mother all to myself.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.
All their children make fake gagging noises and roll their eyes.
I can’t help but laugh at their antics. It’s surprising to find how close they are as a family.
I always imagined growing up in the spotlight, with a father always being pulled in one direction or another and spending so much time apart would have strained their relationships.
But the banter and laughter and ease around the table makes my chest constrict and my eyes begin to prickle.
In spite of being the most powerful, influential, busiest family in the country, these people truly adore one another.