The Crown (The Selection #5)(19)

“We definitely get the better end of the deal though,” he said, winking at my reflection.

I tilted my head. “I don’t know about that. The more I think about it, the sadder I get about having to send all but one of you away. I’ll miss having you here.”

“Have you considered a harem?” he said, deadpan.

I bent over in laughter and was rewarded with a pin stabbing my waist. “Ow!”

“Sorry! I shouldn’t joke when there are needles around.” He walked in front of me, and I held still, watching his eyes, recognizing the analytical gaze, knowing I did the same thing myself to designs and proposals and sometimes even to people. “I think we need to streamline this a little. Are you sure this is absolutely okay with the queen? Because some of these cuts I can’t undo.”

“Don’t worry. You have full permission to tweak in any way you deem necessary.”

“That makes me feel so important.”

“Well, you are. You’re helping me look like a leader tonight. It takes a thousand little things to make this role work, so I owe you one. Or two. At least two.”

“You all right?”

I looked up, not realizing how somber I’d gotten. “Yes. It’s just a lot to deal with sometimes. I’m trying to hold it together, that’s all.”

Hale pulled a pin from the pile the maid had left us and held it up for me. “Use this next time you feel like things are falling apart. It’ll help, I promise.”

Slowly I took it, spinning it between my finger and thumb, and, at least for a moment, I believed it was true.

Henri was right on time, rushing into the parlor as if he’d been dying to run down for the last fifteen minutes. He bypassed ceremony as he held my hands and kissed my cheek, making me laugh.

“Hello today!”

I smiled. “Hello, Henri.”

Over Henri’s shoulder, Erik bowed, and I gave him a nod.

I took Henri’s arm and led him to the table, laid with two settings fairly close together and a third slightly distanced.

“Here,” Henri said, pulling out my chair.

Once I was seated, he eagerly ran around the table to sit across from me … and the conversation drew to an abrupt halt. I pulled the cover off my plate so they would know they could do the same, and after a few silent bites, I worked to bridge the gap.

“How’s your family?” I asked. “And your sister?”

“Miten on Annika?” he said, turning to Erik for confirmation. He nodded, and Henri returned to me, delighted. “Good. She very good. We miss.”

I gave him a sad look and nodded. “I understand completely. You have no idea how much I wish Ahren was here.”

He kept his expression calm but leaned over to Erik, who muttered a translation of my answer as quickly as he could.

“Your mom? Is good?” Henri said, trying so hard.

“Yes, thank goodness. Heading back to her room right now and recovering nicely.”

Once again Erik came to our rescue. We went back and forth in the same way for a few more minutes, and even with all the effort he’d been putting into learning English, Henri was as lost as I was. I hated this. It was too impersonal. It was one thing to need a translator for a visiting dignitary, but for someone who was in my home daily, it felt like too much. Even if Henri’s time in the palace was short-lived, I really wanted to be able to speak with him, just him, at least from time to time.

“Erik, how does Henri do with the other Elite? Do they all speak through you?”

He sat taller, taking this in. “Mostly. Hale and Kile have picked up a few words.”

“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.