She turned her head. “I think your passion is one of your best features. If you could learn to control it, you could be a wonderful princess.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
“No, no, dear,” she said, turning forward. “I see potential in you. I worked in a factory when I was your age. I was dirty and hungry, and sometimes I was angry. But I had an undying crush on the prince of Illéa, and when I got the chance to make him my own, I learned to check those feelings. There’s a lot to be done from here, but it might not happen the way you want it to. You need to learn to accept that, okay?”
“Yes, Mom,” I joked.
She looked back at me, her face like stone.
“I mean, ma’am. Ma’am.”
Her eyes started glistening, and she blinked a few times, turning forward again. “If it ends as I suspect it will, Mom will be just fine.”
And then it was my turn to blink back the tears. It wasn’t like I was ever going to replace my mother; but it felt special to be accepted, with all my flaws, by the mother of the person I might marry.
Celeste turned and saw us, and she ran over. “You’re so cute! Smile.”
I leaned down, wrapping my arms around Queen Amberly, and she reached up to touch my hands. After that, we all took turns crowding around her, getting her to finally make one silly face for the camera. The maids helped take pictures so we could all be in some together; and, by the end of it, I could easily say that was my best day in the palace. I didn’t know if that would hold though. Christmas was right around the corner.
My maids were fixing my hair after Elise’s last terrible attempt at an up-do when there was a knock on the door.
Mary rushed to answer it, and a guard whose name I didn’t know came into the room. I’d seen him around a lot, almost exclusively at the king’s side.
My maids curtsied as he walked closer, and I was more than a little anxious when he stopped in front of me.
“Lady America, the king requires your presence at once,” he said coolly.
“Is anything wrong?” I asked, stalling.
“The king will answer your questions.”
I swallowed. Every awful thing ran through my head. My family was in danger. The king had found a way to punish me quietly for all the ways I’d wronged him. He’d discovered we’d sneaked out of the palace. Or, perhaps worst of all, someone had figured out my connection to Aspen, and we were both about to pay for it.
I tried to shake the fear out of my system. I didn’t want any of it to show in front of King Clarkson.
“I’ll follow you then.” I stood and started walking behind the guard, giving one last glance to the girls as I left. When I saw the worry on their faces, I wished I hadn’t.
We went down the hall and started up the stairs to the third floor. I didn’t quite know what to do with my hands, and I kept touching my hair or my dress or lacing my fingers together.
When we were about halfway down the hall, I saw Maxon, and that helped. He paused just outside a room, waiting for me. There was no concern in his eyes, but he was better at hiding his fear than I was.
“What’s this about?” I whispered.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
The guard took his place outside the door as Maxon escorted me inside. In the wide room, there were shelves of books along one wall. On easels, several maps were set up. There were at least three separate ones of Illéa, with markers in different colors. At a wide desk, the king sat with a piece of paper in his hand.
As he noticed Maxon and me enter the room, the king straightened.
“What exactly have you done with the Italian princess?” King Clarkson demanded, staring at me.
I froze. The money. I’d forgotten all about that. Conspiring to sell weapons to people he viewed as enemies was worse than any of the other scenarios for which I’d been preparing.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I lied, looking to Maxon. Even though he knew everything, he remained calm.
“We have been trying to make an alliance with the Italians for decades, and all of a sudden the royal family is quite interested in having us visit. However”—the king picked