“Maybe.” He smiled and lowered his eyes, looking slightly embarrassed.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Nineteen. Why?”
“How do you know so much about the past? You talked about the way things were like you were there, like you saw it happen. Or like you’re a major history buff or something.”
“My mother is keen on me studying, in case I ever get a chance for the throne,” Tove said, but the idea seemed to tire him. I doubted he was any more excited about the prospect of ruling than I was. Aurora’s scheming for the crown must be entirely her idea.
“What’d you see when you looked at the chandelier?” Tove asked, bringing me back to his reason for being here.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. I wanted to answer honestly, but I didn’t know how to. “I saw . . . a painting.”
“Some people see the future.” He stared up at the chandelier, the light twinkling above us. “And some people see the past.” He paused, thinking. “In the end, they’re not all that different. You can’t prevent either of them.”
“How profound,” I said, and he laughed.
“I haven’t helped you at all, have I?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“You’re too much for one afternoon, I’m afraid,” Tove said.
“How do you mean?” I asked, but he just shook his head.
“I know you have a lot to go over, and you don’t need me wasting your time. I don’t know that I can help you much right now.” He walked toward the door.
“Hey, wait,” I said, and he stopped. “You said that normally they don’t want us tapping into our abilities until after the christening. But Finn wanted you to help prepare me now. What for? Is something going on?”
“Finn’s a protector. It’s his job to worry,” Tove explained, and my heart twisted. I hated it when people pointed out that I was just part of Finn’s job. “He needs to know that in any event, you’ll be taken care of. Whether he’s there or not.”
“Why wouldn’t he be there?” I asked, feeling fear ripple through me.
“I don’t know.” Tove shrugged. “But when something really matters to you, you make sure it’s safe.”
With that, Tove turned and walked out of the house. I was grateful for his help, though I wasn’t even sure what he’d done. Other than confuse me more. And now I felt a new sense of dread settling over me.
I had no idea what was going on with Finn, and my thoughts insisted on going back to the painting I’d seen in Elora’s secret room. I had been reaching off the balcony, looking horrified. Tove’s words echoed through my mind, sending a chill down my spine.
You can’t prevent the future.
I looked up at the chandelier. I’d been too terrified to even try to move it, thinking it would collapse and I’d bring Elora’s painting into life. But I hadn’t, and nothing terrible had come to pass.
Had I changed the future? Or was the worst still to come?
NINETEEN
christening
On Friday, with the party only twenty-four hours away, Elora felt the need to check on my progress, not that I blamed her. Her plan was a dress rehearsal for dinner, testing my ability to converse and eat, apparently.
She didn’t want a massive audience to witness my possible failure, so she just invited Garrett, Willa, and Rhiannon over to join her, Finn, Rhys, and me. It was the biggest group she could assemble without risk of embarrassment. Since I had already met these people, I didn’t feel all that nervous, even though Elora informed me beforehand that I needed to act the same way I would tomorrow night.
Everyone had been instructed similarly, and they all appeared far more regal than normal. Even Rhys had dressed in a blazer, and he looked rather handsome. As usual, Finn was unnecessarily attractive.
Thanks to Finn’s random confession of jealousy, I wasn’t entirely sure how to act around him. He had come into my room before dinner to make sure that I was getting ready, and I couldn’t help but feel that he was purposely avoiding looking at me.
When I reached the dining hall, Elora instructed us where to sit, with her at one end of the table and me at the other. Rhys and Finn flanked me, and Rhiannon, Garrett, and Willa took their places in between.
“Who will I be sitting by tomorrow?” I asked between careful sips of wine.
“Between Tove Kroner and I.” Elora narrowed her eyes at the drink in my hand. “Hold the glass by the stem.”
“Sorry.” I thought I had been, but I moved my fingers, hoping I was holding it more correctly now.
“A Princess never apologizes,” Elora corrected me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, then realized what I had just done and shook my head. “That was an accident. It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t shake your head; it’s not ladylike,” Elora chastised me. “A Princess doesn’t make promises either. She might not be able to keep them, and she doesn’t want them held against her.”
“I wasn’t really making a promise,” I pointed out, and Elora narrowed her eyes more severely.