ridiculous. “It seems unlikely. She was a Five; he’s a Two.”
“Well, I think she said her family did music, so maybe she performed for him once,” Madeline offered.
“That’s a good point,” Bianca added. “So maybe they weren’t complete strangers.”
“Huh,” I muttered.
“Sour grapes?” Bianca asked.
I smiled. “No. If Hendly is happy, then so am I. It’s a little strange, though, marrying someone you don’t even know.”
There was a pause before Madeline spoke. “Aren’t we kind of doing the same thing?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “The prince is not a stranger.”
“Really?” Madeline challenged. “Then please, tell me everything you know about him, because I feel like I’ve got nothing.”
“Actually . . . me, too,” Bianca confessed.
I inhaled to begin a long list of facts about Clarkson . . . but there wasn’t much to tell.
“I’m not saying I know every last secret about him, but it’s not as if he’s any old boy walking down the street. We’ve grown up with him, heard him speak on the Report, seen his face hundreds of times. We may not know all the details, but I have a very clear impression of him. Don’t you?”
Madeline smiled. “I think you’re right. It’s not as if we walked through the door not knowing his name.”
“Exactly.”
The maid was so quiet, I didn’t realize she’d approached until she was at my ear, whispering. “You’re needed for a moment, miss.”
I looked at her, confused. I’d done nothing wrong. I turned to the girls and shrugged before standing to follow her out the door.
In the hallway, she merely gestured, and I turned to see Prince Clarkson. He was standing there with that almost smile on his lips and something in his hand.
“I was just dropping off a package at the mail room and the post master had this for you,” he said, holding up an envelope between two fingers. “I thought you might want it right away.”
I walked over as quickly as I could without seeming unladylike and reached for it. His grin became devilish as he abruptly stuck his arm straight up in the air.
I giggled, hopping and trying desperately to clutch it. “No fair!”
“Come on now.”
I could jump fairly well, though not in heels, and even with them on I was slightly shorter than he was. But I didn’t mind failing, because somewhere in my sad attempts, I felt an arm wrap around my waist.
Finally, he gave me my letter. As I suspected, it was from Adele. So many tiny happy things were piling into my day.
“You cut your hair.”
I pulled my gaze from the letter. “I did.” I grabbed a section and brought it over my shoulder. “Do you like it?”
There was something in his eyes—not quite mischief, not quite a secret. “I do. Very much.” With that he turned and walked down the hall, not even glancing back.
It was true I had an idea of who he was. Still, as I saw him in day-to-day life, I realized there was much more to him than what I’d seen on the Report. That knowledge didn’t seem daunting, though.
On the contrary, he was a mystery I was excited to solve.
I smiled and tore open the letter right there in the hallway, moving under a window for the sake of the light.
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