42.2
Her words bring a fresh snort from Alexia, and I wonder what she suspects, or if she’s just being obnoxious.
“Yes, you’re quite considerate, Kevin,” my mother says before turning to put her hand on the king’s arm. King Leopold looks at her and smiles, obviously smitten with her.
“Isabella, I was told you’ve spent the last few years doing charity work.” One of the aunts, Victoria something-or-other, interrupts.
“Oh, I adore charity work,” the blonde cousin says. The cousins are triplets, two blondes and a brunette, with matching names: Lily, Rose, and Vivian. “I just love all of the dinner parties and fundraising. In Paris once, we – oh, what was your cause?”
“My cause?” I ask, looking at her blankly.
“Your charity,” Lily says, staring at me. “Your cause. Hunger, shoes for poor children, whatever.”
“I wasn’t actually hosting parties and fundraising,” I say, starting to explain what I’d been doing the last two years.
“Oh,” Rose says, her brow furrowed. “What kind of fundraising were you doing?”
My mother interrupts. “Isabella means to say that she was working with a non-profit group.”
“Working?” the dark-haired triplet, Vivian, asks. Her nose wrinkled, she looks at me like I’m a different species. “Working, as in a job?”
“I was working, yes,” I say. This entire conversation is beginning to sound surreal. “In Africa, actually.”
“Isabella,” my mother says, her voice unnaturally bright. “You must tell us all about it later, perhaps at a time other than when we’re celebrating.”
“I would love to hear about Africa sometime, Isabella,” the King says, his voice warm. “There’s an aid organization from Venici that you might have worked with. From what your mother has told me, I believe they may have been in the same region you were.”
“You were in Africa?” The King’s mother sniffs. “Isn’t that rather dangerous?”
“Actually, I –“ I start, before my mother interrupts.
“His Royal Highness tells me you’re spending the fall semester in Paris,” my mother says, directing her attention to Lily.
Lily rolls her eyes. “I guess,” she says. “Semester abroad and all that. I’m supposed to expand my horizons. It’s not like I haven’t been to Paris a million times before.”
The triplets sound bored with everything – bored with this dinner, bored with the company, bored with their wealth, bored with their lives. They’re every kid of every socialite parent I attended high school with in Manhattan.
“I’m going to New York,” Vivian interrupts, leaning forward. “Back to design school.”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do with fashion design,” the king’s mother says. “In my day, women of means learned certain things. These art degrees and –“
“By your day, I assume you mean the eighteen hundreds.” Vivian snickers into her napkin.
“Don’t get uppity,” Kev’s grandmother scolds. “New York City is no place for someone of your stature.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Lady Margaret,” my mother says, her tone frosty. “It was good enough for a future queen, so I’m sure Vivian’s American education will be more than sufficient.”
The King clears his throat. “I’ve heard that you’ve also done very well in school, Rose.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Rose sniffs, glaring at her sister.
“I don’t approve of all this traipsing about,” Lady Margaret says. “Running off to New York City. Or, worse, can you imagine? Charity work in Africa? Actually milling about with…those people?”
Irritation courses through me, as the table goes quiet, no one speaking. When I open my mouth, I speak with an edge that surprises even me. “By those people, I’m sure you must be referring to the children who don’t have adequate medical care or potable drinking water?”
“Isabella,” my mother says, her gaze penetrating. “Perhaps we’ll save this conversation for another time, since it’s not the appropriate place.”
King Leopold clears his throat. “Mother, I’m sure you’ll appreciate the fact that Isabella was working with a medical non-profit organization,” he says. “I recall you traveling around Europe to visit hospitals during the war.”
“Yeah, in World War I,” Rose snickers, and her sister covers her mouth as she giggles.
“Hush your mouth,” Lady Margaret snaps. “I’m old, not deaf. And it was the second great war, for your information.”
“This is definitely more interesting than the conversations we normally have at dinner,” Alexia interrupts, popping a forkful of food into her mouth and raising her eyebrows.
“Seriously,” Lily says, wrinkling her nose as she looks at her sister. “If I have to hear about one more American designer…”
“You’re such a snob,” Vivian says. “When you really just have no concept of design.”
“Oh, why don’t you educate me, with your portfolio of work and –“
“I trust you’re settling in, Isabella?” When the King interrupts, both cousins stop squabbling and immediately go silent, their expressions pouty, like children who’ve been scolded.
“Yes, King Leopold,” I say. “Although I’m afraid I may not be able to stay for as long as I’d like.”
“Oh,” he says, and the expression of disappointment that crosses his face is so genuine-looking that for a moment I feel badly even considering leaving. “Your mother and I were hoping you’d be staying the entire summer. I know that I’d like the opportunity to get to know you. As would Alexia and Kevin.”
“Yes,” Kev says. “I’d personally enjoy getting the opportunity to welcome you to the family.”
I can’t believe his brazenness, and I pointedly try to ignore him, focusing on my mother and the king.
“Yes, well,” Sofia says. “We’ll have to discuss the specifics of her summer plans in more detail another time. I’m sure that Isabella intends to stay for quite a while.”
“I’m considering it,” I say, irritated with my mother for speaking for me.
“Isabella mentioned she’d misplaced her passport,” Kev says. “I asked Ben to see if the household staff were able to find it.”
“Oh?” my mother asks innocently. “Well, how dreadful. We’ll have to make sure that’s remedied. And in the meantime, I’m sure we’ll be happy to show you why we all love Venici. Maybe Alexia or Kevin would take you on a tour of the palace and the castle grounds.”
“I know I’d be delighted to show her everything,” Kev says, raising a tumbler of amber-colored liquid to his lips.
The edges of his lips curl up, his expression a promise of the things he wants to show me.
