Only, it seemed I had gotten it wrong.
Agnarr shook his head, his cheeks coloring. “Oh, stop,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Sorry.” I scrambled to my feet, my face burning with shame. “I don’t…I mean…I didn’t…”
The prince stepped forward, holding out his hand. I reached for it hesitantly, trying to pretend it was the first time we’d touched. “Name’s Agnarr,” he said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“I’m…Iduna,” I said. Then I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, acting as if I met princes all the time and it was really no big deal. “It’s…nice to meet you, too.”
He gave a perfunctory nod, all business now. He was no longer an injured boy but the heir apparent. “I hope they are treating you well here at the orphanage,” he continued. “I know it’s a little crowded right now. Many lost parents during the battle of the Enchanted Forest—myself included. But we’re doing our best to care for everyone. Peterssen and I have asked the council to allocate additional funds for an expansion to the building. Along with extra food. And chocolate,” he added with a grin. “That was my idea.”
I thought back to the tiny square of chocolate he’d slipped me in the wagon. “A very good idea,” I agreed. “Chocolate makes everything better.”
He looked surprised as I parroted his words back to him. His brows creased as if he was trying to remember. Then he grinned. “I think you and I are going to get along very well.”
Peterssen clapped his hands. “Great. Now that introductions have been made, it’s time to head back to the castle. If you’re ready, Iduna?”
I stared at Lord Peterssen in shock, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying. “You want me to come to the castle?”
“Yes, of course,” he said in a voice that left no room for argument. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Well, I apologize it’s taken some time to get organized. Things have been—tumultuous the past few weeks, as you can imagine. Transitions of power, all that sort of thing.” He waved a hand. “But now that the dust is settled, I have returned to keep my promise. You’ll still live here, of course. But you will also start daily educational lessons at the castle. Agnarr’s own tutor, Miss Larsen, will teach you. It’s the very least that we could do for the sacrifices your parents made.”
I stared at him, fear rising inside me. The castle? They wanted me to go to the castle? On a daily basis? Were they joking? If anyone learned who I was…
“I—I don’t think I can…” I stammered.
“You can,” Lord Peterssen said firmly. “And you will.” He sighed. “Iduna,” he continued, giving me a sympathetic look, “I know there have been a lot of changes lately. And I know it’s been strange and difficult for you here. But I promise things will be easier from here on out. Now come. We’ll take you there now and give you a little tour. Your first lesson will be on Monday morning.”
I started to open my mouth, probably to argue again. But at that moment, the orphan children from earlier stormed back into the bedroom. Now it was the boy playing the part of the “evil Northuldra,” coming after the squealing girl with a mad look in his eyes.
“I’m going to kill you!” he cried. “Like I killed the king!”
Agnarr’s face turned stark white. My heart panged as I caught the anguish swimming in his green eyes.
He might have been the prince, but he was also a boy who had lost his father. Perhaps Peterssen would have stepped in and said something, but I beat him to it.
The children dove back on my bed, wrestling one another, still shouting about magic and treachery. I marched over to them.
“Magic?” I broke in with an exaggeratedly jovial tone. “Please. Who needs magic when you have super tickle powers?”
Without warning, I pounced, grabbing them and tickling them under their arms. They squealed in protest, trying to wiggle away as they begged for mercy, not unlike the Northuldra children back home. Tickle torture, it seemed, was universal.
“Let us go!” cried the boy. “Please!”
“We have chores to do!” the girl giggled, swatting my hands away.
“Chores?” I repeated in as innocent a voice as I could muster. I released them, rising back to my feet. “Why didn’t you say so? I’d certainly never want to keep you from chores!”
“Yes, chores!” the girl agreed, a look of relief on her face. “Come on, Peter. Let’s go do our chores!”
They leapt from the bed, nearly knocking Agnarr over as they fled for the stairs. He watched them go, his face still pale. But then he turned to me.
And he smiled.
It was a smile so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. Peterssen stood behind Agnarr, nodding his approval at how I’d handled the situation.
I smiled back shyly at the prince. “Let me get my coat.”
“AND THIS IS MY GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-grandfather Eric. Will you look at that mustache? Talk about hair goals! And over here—that’s Great-Grandmother Else. I always thought she looked like a nice lady. The kind who sneaks her grandchildren cookies when their parents aren’t looking.”
I glanced over at Iduna, who was staring up at the paintings in my family’s portrait room, a polite but otherwise unreadable expression on her face. Was I boring her? Was I talking too much? I was probably talking too much. But who could blame me? After the dam tragedy, they’d all but shut the castle gates, with only essential staff remaining inside. And Lord Peterssen hadn’t been so keen on letting me run around the village unescorted, declaring it was way too dangerous under our current political climate.
When a king died, a kingdom could go through a period of unrest. Neighboring countries could start sniffing around, looking for weakness. Even within the kingdom, some ambitious great-nephew or -niece of the former king might start getting delusions of grandeur and decide they had some kind of claim to the throne. If only that pesky son of the king weren’t in the way….
And that didn’t even count the Northuldra, who had become public enemy number one in Arendelle. What if they were, even now, people whispered, gathering their forces and preparing to lead an attack on our kingdom—to finish what was started back on their land?
It all sounded completely far-fetched to me, but as Peterssen always said, better to be safe than dead. Until all potential threats had been uncovered, I was to remain inside the castle gates and only be allowed to leave when escorted by a full company of guards.
Which meant I had been climbing the walls the past few weeks. Utterly bored and alone. Now, for the first time in forever, I had someone to talk to.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that this someone had the shiniest pile of hair I had ever seen and eyes like the sky on a cloudless winter’s day. Not that that mattered or anything. It was just a fact.
I shook off that last thought and grinned at Iduna, hoping it came off as a nice grin and not slightly deranged. She hadn’t said much since she got here, her face unreadable but definitely tensed, with eyes darting around each room we entered as if assessing it for potential danger. It made sense: after all, it had only been a month since she’d lost her parents in an unexpected battle. It was hard to feel safe after going through something like that.