“You did,” I say.
“And who wants to help King Frederick get back on the throne?”
I don’t know. God help me, I have no idea.
“You?” I say because it seems like the answer he wants.
“Of course, me. You need to convince Frederick to come here. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m just a kid. No one listens to me.”
“He’ll listen,” Felix says and takes hold of my arm.
Jasmine and her friends are still here, and now she is by my side brandishing her phone as if it were a weapon.
“Is this guy bothering you?” Jasmine asks.
“This is private business,” Felix says.
“I want you to let go of me,” I say and try to jerk my arm free from his grasp, but he’s much stronger than I am.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says.
“She says to let go,” Jasmine says. “I’ve got 911 on speed dial. Let go of her, or the police will be here so fast your head will spin.”
He lets go of my arm. “I’ll speak to you later, Your Royal Highness,” he says and lopes off, not looking back at us. My heart is beating double-time.
“Who was that guy?” Jasmine asks, stepping close to me as if she might hold me up in case I start to fall.
“Some guy from back home.”
“Whose side is he on?”
“I’m not sure,” I answer. My breathing is starting to return to normal.
“We’ll walk you toward your house and meet Henri. How’s that sound? Besides, I kind of don’t want to run into him again anyway. He creeps me out. Maybe I can have my mom pick us up at your place?”
“Let me just check with my sister to see if it’s okay if you come over,” I say.
“Not your mom?” Marly asks.
“My mam is having a little trouble with everything,” I admit. I don’t want to say anything against Mam, but it’s the truth. “My sister has been taking care of things.”
“My mom was like that when my dad left,” Marly says, kicking a stone down the sidewalk. “Don’t worry, it will get better.”
It will get better, that’s what I need to hear. I take a deep breath. Everything will be okay. “Yes,” I say. “As soon as we’re back with my pap, I’m sure it will be much better.”
“Just give it time,” Jasmine advises.
“It’s hard,” I admit.
“I know,” Marly says. “But it’ll be okay.”
I really do have friends again. It feels good.
Regardless, I send a text to Georgie to let her know, to make sure Mam at least is not in her bathrobe or something. All I really want right now is to be safe behind locked doors.
“Ooh,” Jordan says with a little skip. “We’ll get to meet your sister and mother. I’ve never met a queen before. Do we have to bow or anything?”
“No bowing,” I say. “That’s only for the citizens of Colsteinburg. And …”
“I know,” Marly says, as if reading my mind. “Your mom might not be at her best. We get it.”
Henri meets us before we get to the first traffic light. “You should have stayed where you were,” he admonishes me.
“I couldn’t,” I say. “Felix was there.”
Henri’s eyebrows come together as his whole face transforms into a frown. “What did he want?”
“He says he really is Pap’s friend. What do you think?”
“Until you encountered him the other day, I had no reason to doubt his allegiance to the royal family.”
“So, you think he’s on our side?”
“It is not for me to say,” he says. Though truthfully, as head of security, saying who is and who is not on our side is kind of for him to say. We all get into his car, and he drives us to the condo.
Once we get there, Henri ushers us inside. He shuts the door behind us, and we are all safe. Georgie is sitting on the sofa. I don’t see Mam. Maybe she’s taking a nap. That might be for the best.
“Georgie, these are my friends.” Is it too soon to call them friends? “Jasmine, Jordan, and Marly.”
“Nice to meet you,” Georgie says.
“Jasmine’s mom is going to pick them up here. Felix was by the school, and he creeped us out,” I explain.
Georgie frowns at the mention of Felix. “Very prudent,” she says.
“Are you really going to be a queen some day?” Jordan asks.
“It’s looking less and less likely,” Georgie says with a hint of bitterness.
“Might as well sit down,” I say to the girls. “Where’s Mam?” I ask Georgie.
She lowers her voice before answering. “Upstairs. She wasn’t up for company. Thanks for the warning.”
“We’re not going to get to meet the queen?” Jordan asks, disappointed.
“Not this time,” Georgie says. She sits down, crossing her legs at the ankles, her hands folded primly in her lap, the model of the perfect princess. “Tell me, girls, what kinds of things should Fritzi get involved in around here? What is there to do?”
I lean against the doorjamb. “I thought we were moving.”
“But we will probably stay local,” Georgie says.
“Not much,” Jordan says. “It’s a lame neighborhood. Tell us what it’s like where you really live. What do you do there?”
“We go to balls all the time,” I say. “It’s like living in a movie.”
Georgie twists around in her chair so she can give me a withering look. “You’ve been to one ball, young lady. Why don’t you tell your friends what they really want to know?”
They want to know that my life is like a movie, but it really isn’t. Never has been. It would be easy to say that as the princesses, we can do whatever we want, but that isn’t true. Being in the royal family actually means there are a lot of restrictions on us. We always have to be thinking of appearances. And then again, when we are at school, there are gobs of rules.
“I played netball,” I answer.
“What’s that?” Jasmine asks.
“Kind of like basketball,” I say. She nods at this, as if things are starting to fit together in her mind.
“So, is there like a palace team or something?” Jordan asks.
I picture playing netball in the ballroom. The staff would have a conniption.
“I play it at school,” I say.
“She goes to boarding school in France,” Georgie explains.
“Don’t you?” Marly asks.
“I graduated in June. But at school, there are lots of clubs and things to be involved in.”
“Oh, we have clubs at our school,” Marly says, seeming surprised that she found something in common with royalty.
“Most of the clubs are lame,” Jasmine responds in a world-weary way.
“Well, yeah, that’s true,” Marly says. “But we do have them.”
Jasmine looks at her phone and then out the window. “My mom is here.” She stands up, and Marly and Jordan follow.
“Watch out for that guy,” she says. “I don’t trust him.”
“Me either,” I say. “I’ll be careful.”
They leave, and I lock the door behind them.
If only I knew whose side he was on. Life is so much easier if you know who to trust.
22
I sit on the sofa and stick my hands under my legs to keep them from shaking. Everything is fine. There is no reason to panic. Everything is fine.
Everything is not fine.
“He said he was on our side and we couldn’t trust the Ambassador,” I say to Georgie. “And Henri thinks he’s trustworthy. Or has been in the past. He wants me to do another video convincing Pap to come. What do I do? Which is the right thing?”
Georgie strides across the room and wraps her arms around me. “Don’t do anything,” she says. “Pap will know what he has to do without our interference. If there’s anyone we know we can trust in all this, it’s Pap.”
She is right, of course. Pap doesn’
t need my opinion on what he should do, and he probably wouldn’t follow it anyway. “But what if we can’t trust the Harts?”
“They’re letting us use their townhouse,” Georgie reminds me.
“But what if it’s a trick?”
Georgie hugs me a little tighter. “Grandma always said to trust your instinct with people, right?” she says, holding my hand in hers.
I nod. That was one of Grandma’s many lessons to us.
“Yes, but my instinct is all confused these days. I thought we could trust Mr. Orcutt, and clearly we can’t.”
“Well, my gut says we trust the Harts,” Georgie says. “They didn’t have to help us, and they are. If they weren’t on our side, why would they? What kind of trick could it be?”
“I don’t know! I don’t have the mind of a master villain! I don’t know what someone might do.”
Georgie’s mouth turns up in a smile, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh at me.
“I suppose I should be glad you are not a master criminal in the making. I might be nervous sharing a bed with you.”
She’s trying to make me feel better, and it’s working, even if just a bit. I smile too. “I guess that’s one career path off the table.”
“There are plenty of others,” she says with a grin.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
“What we’ve been doing.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough,” I say and sag into the sofa.
“Sometimes things take time,” Georgie says. “It’s only been two weeks.”
“Two weeks too long,” I mutter.
Georgie sighs. “I agree with you, but try to be patient.”
I’m twelve. I don’t do patient.
“Come on, let’s have a soda. That will make you feel better.”
It can’t hurt, I suppose. We go into the kitchen and are just popping open the cans when the doorbell rings.
“Maybe someone is bringing us pizza,” Georgie says.
“Why would someone bring us pizza?” I ask.
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
I laugh. “Dream big, Georgie, dream big.”
“What are you doing here?” we hear Henri ask, suspicion in his voice, to whoever is at the front door. So, probably not pizza. I peek out of the kitchen area toward the front door and see Felix on the threshold.
I grab Georgie’s arm. “It’s Felix. He’s here! Why would he be here? Do you think Henri will let him in?”
“Hush!” Georgie urges as she peers past me to the front of the house. I notice she’s not laughing anymore. “Henri won’t let anything happen to us. He’ll get rid of him.”
But instead of slamming the door in his face, Henri is letting him inside.
“Georgie!” I hiss, digging my fingernails into her arm.
She disengages my hand from her arm. “Henri must be sure he’s on our side,” she says. “There’s no other reason he’d let him in. Everything is going to be okay, Fritzi. Don’t panic.”
I don’t know. Panic seems to be my default emotion right now.
Henri comes into the kitchen. “Georgie, go get your mother.”
“Why is Felix here?” I ask. “Is he on our side?”
“He is,” Henri says. “He has a message for your mother. Please go get her.”
Even though only one of us has to give the message, I’m not leaving Georgie’s side. I follow her like a shadow up the stairs.
Georgie knocks twice on Mam’s door and then enters without waiting for a response. Mam is sitting on her bed, a book open on her lap. She looks at us expectantly.
“Mam,” Georgie says. “That man, Felix Martel, is here. Henri let him in. He says he’s on our side and that he has a message for you.”
Mam puts her book aside, a look of relief on her face. “I didn’t think Felix would really betray us. He’s always been such a loyal adviser.”
“But what about him wanting me to make the video so Pap would come here and then he’d lose the country? What about that?”
“Perhaps you misunderstood him,” Mam says. “Felix knows as well as I do that under the circumstances, for Frederick to leave would be admitting defeat.”
Maybe I did misunderstand him. It’s been known to happen. He seemed pretty clear in what he wanted, but maybe I was wrong. I must have been wrong.
I like the sound of this. Felix is really on our side. He is here with a message for Mam. Maybe even a message from Pap. We need to go down and see what it is.
Downstairs, Felix greets us with a courteous bow of his head. “Your Majesty, it is so good to see you again. Your Royal Highnesses, you are both a vision, as always.”
The tone is right, the words are fine, but still a lingering ache sits in the pit of my stomach. He did bring me Sir Fred, and Sir Fred was not booby-trapped or bugged. I suppose I really should trust him.
“Shall we sit?” Mam suggests, and she leads me and Georgie to the sofa, where she sits between us. Felix sits in the armchair, and Henri stands like a sentinel by the door.
“I am here,” Felix begins, “because Frederick believes you are in danger.”
Mam stiffens and clutches my hand tighter.
“Have you spoken with him?”
“I have, and he wants you moved to a safe space. He is going to meet you there in a day or two.”
“Thomas Hart is looking for a safe space for us right now,” Mam says. “We know this place has been compromised by the media presence.”
“You cannot trust Thomas Hart. He’s the one who alerted the media. You need to go someplace unknown to him.”
Could it have been Mr. Hart who told the media where we were, and everyone was just blaming it on me and my videos? It’s possible. And even likely. So it’s Mr. Hart we can’t trust, and we can trust Felix. My head is swimming.
“And you have someplace for us to go?” Mam asks, one eyebrow arched.
“I do,” he says, hands clasped casually around one knee.
“And Frederick is going to meet us there?”
“He is.”
“Why has he not contacted us?”
“Like I said, your safety has been compromised, and he was afraid to contact you directly, being uncertain who might intercept his message.”
“And he is coming here?” Mam asks. “But if he leaves, he abdicates. He knows that. Is he abdicating?”
“Not if no one knows he’s left the country,” Felix assures her, and he sounds so certain that I start to relax. He is one of Pap’s advisers. He knows what’s best for us. He is working for us. Things will work out. “And believe me,” Felix says, “Frederick is very eager to be reunited with all of you again. He says once you are together, he promises you’ll never be separated again.”
This does not have the comforting effect Felix might have hoped it would.
“He said that?” I ask. “Those exact words? He said he promised?”
“Yes. That’s what he said. He said he promised you. And you know your father would never break a promise to you.”
What I know is that my father would never make a promise he can’t fulfill. When we left and I asked him to promise me we’d be together soon, he said his word was enough and he would not make promises that might be impossible to keep. If he wouldn’t make a promise to me then, when I was so scared, he certainly wouldn’t send a message that he was promising us something.
Felix is lying.
I stand up. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I say, ignoring the fact that I am still holding my can of soda, and head to the kitchen.
Georgie follows me. “What’s wrong?” she whispers. There are no doors between the downstairs rooms, so there’s no real expectation of privacy.
There are several things wrong. The first is that I think I’m going to throw up or pass out or something. I sit on the chair and put my head between my knees. Georgie takes the soda from me and hands me a glass of water.
I sit up and take a sip.
“He’s lying to us,�
� I say.
“I know.”
“Pap would never say he promised.”
“I know.”
“Do you think Mam knows?”
“I think so,” Georgie says, but I don’t like the note of uncertainty in her voice.
“What do we do?”
“We don’t go anywhere with him, that’s for sure,” she says. “And we get him out of here. No harm done.”
Georgie pokes her head through the doorway. “Mam, can you come here?” she calls. “Fritzi needs you.”
It’s as good an excuse as any.
Mam comes into the kitchen and rushes to me. “Are you ill?”
“Felix is lying to us,” I whisper.
She nods. “I know. I’ll ask him to leave, and then we’ll see what Thomas Hart has in the way of other places for us to live.” She puts one hand on my head and the other on Georgie’s. Mam is back. “It will be fine, girls. Trust me.”
How can she stay so calm? My hands are shaking. I’m hot and cold all at the same time. We let the enemy in. Henri let the enemy in. How can we even trust Henri again?
Mam turns to go back into the living room, and Georgie starts to follow, but Mam raises a finger and says, “Stay out here for the time being, girls.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
In the living room, Mam, sounding more like herself than she has done since the ball, says, “I think it is time you leave, Felix.”
“But Your Majesty,” he protests. “Frederick asked me to do this for him.”
“No,” she says, very simply. “I do not think he did. It is time for you to leave.”
I’m sure he’s going to argue or grab her or do something to paint himself suddenly as public enemy number one, and Henri tenses, ready to intercede as needed, but nothing happens except that Felix bows slightly, says “as you wish,” and leaves.
My whole body goes limp in relaxation. He’s gone. Nothing bad happened.
In the living room, Henri says, “I believe that was a rash decision, Your Majesty.”
“It was my decision, Henri. Do you question me?”
“I am in charge of your security. You need to trust me.”
“And I do,” Mam says, “but I did not trust him.”
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