“And the others?”
He pursed his lips, looking guilty, as if he was worried he’d sully the reputation of the others. “Gunner has been marginally interested, as is Fox, but they don’t appear to want to take on the challenge. It’s a lot of work. And Ean will speak with me but doesn’t really try to speak with Henri.”
I let out a long sigh, several thoughts flitting through my head. “Would you be up to giving us all a little Finnish lesson tomorrow morning?”
Erik raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Absolutely. It seems unfair that Henri has to do all the work.” As I said his name, Henri’s eyes darted over to me. He was certainly following our conversation in his own way, but I was excited for him to discover exactly where this was going.
Erik spoke swiftly in Finnish, and Henri’s eyes lit up.
“I speak, too? I speaking?” he asked as if this was going to be a party instead of a lesson.
“Of course,” I said, and Henri sat there, completely beside himself, the gears already turning in his head.
“I think you just made his day,” Erik commented.
“I’m upset I didn’t think of it sooner. It will make things easier on everyone.”
“I hope so. But I’m still going to focus on the English lessons. I’m hoping to avoid any more appearances on the Report.”
I made a face. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was awful!” After shaking his head, he pointed his fork at me. “My mom will not stop talking about it. ‘You look so good! Why didn’t you smile more?’ I swear, it’s maddening.”
“You’re blaming me?” I asked, feigning indignation.
“Forever. Forever I am blaming you! I don’t like being on camera.” He shuddered. I was glad he didn’t actually seem angry, though I could sense how serious he was about it.
I laughed, and he looked down bashfully at his plate as he smiled. It was then I realized Henri was stuck watching me chat with his translator while I was supposed to be on a date with him.
“You know, Henri, maybe we could do a full Swendish immersion experience, and you could teach everyone to make that soup you were talking about.”
Erik translated, and once again Henri was jubilant. “Kala-keitto!” he exclaimed.
There were things I was curious about with Henri. I wanted to know more about his family, particularly his sister. And I wanted to know if he was at peace with the idea of living here and working beside me, or if it worried him that we could have moments like the parade all over again and he’d be stuck trying to protect me from angry masses for the rest of his life. I wanted to ask him about that kiss in the kitchen, if he’d thought about it much or dismissed it as a lapse of judgment on one or both our parts.
But until I could ask him those things without having to ask Erik, too, there was no way I’d be able to.
THE DRESS WAS RED. MOM hadn’t worn it in years, which was one of the reasons I chose it. Hale trimmed the long lace sleeves up to my elbows and pulled a few of the layers from beneath the gown so it wasn’t quite as full. He was right about some of this being irreversible, but he’d handled it all so tastefully that even if Mom eventually wanted it back, she’d probably be thrilled with the alterations.
Eloise helped me do my hair, and it looked so smart, with braids leading back to a modest bun. I chose a tiara with rubies in it, and I looked like I was on fire.
It was beautiful, really. I knew that, and I was thankful for all the hands that had gone into making me look like someone who could be trusted with the decisions that had to be made on behalf of the country. It just felt old, older than I truly was, though maybe closer to the age I should behave. Sighing, I came to terms with the dress. This was who I had to be for now.
I was tugging at my seams in the studio when Josie came up to talk to me. “That dress is amazing,” she praised, unable to keep her fingers off the layers of satin.
I kept straightening. “It’s my mother’s.”
“I’m sorry about all that, by the way,” she said quietly. “Don’t think I’ve told you yet.”
I swallowed. “Thank you, Josie. That means a lot.”
“You know, since everything’s been so serious, it might be a good idea to have a party.”
I huffed out an almost laugh. “I’m a little busy for that. Maybe once things settle down.”
“I could plan it! Just let me talk to a few maids, and we could pull something together in a week.”
I turned from the mirror. “Like I said, maybe one day, but not now.” I moved away, trying to focus.
She trailed me across the room, insistent. “But why? Shouldn’t you be celebrating? I mean, you’re practically the queen, so—”