Just as Ivy was about to break away from the Countess and go to stand next to him, Mr Vega strode into the dining room. He smiled at his two daughters and then bowed precisely to a man about his age wearing a grey tie and thick black glasses. The man bowed back and then they both broke into smiles. Ivy guessed that they must be old friends.
At least he’s got some people on his side, Ivy thought. And he knows how to handle all the formalities.
As he started to make his way around the room, the Countess touched Ivy’s arm. ‘Those are your seats,’ she said and pointed to places in the middle of a long, dark wood table that was so glossy Ivy could see the reflections of all the candles in its surface. It was decorated with red rose centrepieces, napkins folded like origami, six glasses at every place setting, plus more knives and forks by her plate than in her entire cutlery drawer at home.
There was only one thought swirling around Ivy’s head: I am so in over my coffin.
Olivia had to pry Ivy’s fingers off her arm.
‘Don’t leave me!’ her sister hissed.
‘I have to,’ Olivia whispered back. ‘It’s boy, girl, boy, girl.’ Olivia felt awful, but occasions like this required seating arrangements. ‘Insisting on sitting together is worse than confusing the forks, Ivy.’
‘Fine,’ Ivy whispered but Olivia could tell Ivy was the complete opposite of fine.
Someone was already standing behind the chair in between the two empty ones that the Countess had pointed to. He seemed a bit older than them with spiky black hair and high cheekbones.
‘Ivy,’ he said, ‘and Olivia.’ He bowed.
As he pulled out her chair, Olivia touched the clip holding her hair up, hoping she hadn’t overdone the curls.
‘I’m Alex,’ he said.
‘Prince Alex,’ the Count clarified as he sat down on the other side of Ivy. ‘We are delighted you could attend.’
A prince! Olivia thought as he took her hand and kissed it lightly. She was going to eat with the royal family!
Prince Alex turned to Ivy and did the same. Olivia hid her smile as Ivy’s jaw dropped.
‘Nice to meet you, uh, Your Highness?’ Olivia said.
‘Please, just call me Alex,’ he replied as he sat in his own seat. His eyes twinkled with excitement. ‘You are the first American – and the first human – I have sat next to for dinner.’
Olivia was surprised. ‘You’ve never had dinner with a human before?’
‘My mother occasionally meets non-vampire dignitaries but she doesn’t say much about them.’ Alex lowered his voice. ‘On the other hand, you and your father have been the subject of much discussion.’
Olivia felt as though a cool breeze had just blown through the room. She realised that maybe some of these vampire guests didn’t approve of her. Olivia knew that there were plenty of separationists – vampires that thought humans and vampires should never mingle, and especially never have relationships. That’s why her father marrying their mother had been such a scandal.
‘I can assure you that I am not biased in my views,’ Alex said, looking at her intently. He leaned forward slightly. ‘Your eyes are fascinating. I am used to vampire eye colours, but yours are like a sparkling summer lake.’
Olivia blushed.
Suddenly, the household staff glided into the room, carrying individual silver domed trays. Olivia smiled at the girl Tessa that they’d met in the hallway earlier, who was serving the opposite side of the table. The staff placed the plates down noiselessly in front of everyone and, with a metallic ring, lifted the domes off to reveal something the size and colour of a pot of lip balm in the centre of each large, white plate. They stood back against the walls, waiting.
Horatio bowed to the group and said simply, ‘Pâté en croûte.’
Ew, Olivia thought. She was relieved to see that on her plate was a fresh garden salad.
‘It looks like a rainbow,’ Alex said, glancing at the vegetables.
Olivia was surprised by the description, but he was right. The red and yellow peppers, the green celery and cucumber, the purple-looking red lettuce – the colours were bright.
‘You certainly have a way with words,’ Olivia commented.
‘Thank you,’ Alex bowed his head a little. ‘I do love poetry. Have you ever read “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”; by Wallace Stevens?’
Olivia shook her head.
‘You must.’ Prince Alex looked wistful for a moment. ‘There are so many ways to see the same thing.’
Like the meaning of Valentine’s Day, Olivia thought to herself. Despite being surrounded by all these wonderful new things, a part of her heart was still with Jackson, wondering if he was thinking of her. She wanted to rush upstairs and check her new phone for texts.
As she ate her croutons, Alex said, ‘I hope we will get to spend more time together while you are here in my country. There is so much I can show you, so many places to visit.’
Olivia was flattered but she heard a tut coming from across the table. Directly opposite her, the Queen was watching them with her lips pressed together.
Olivia felt a hot flush creep up her cheeks and she tried to un-blush as she concentrated on her food. Is the Queen unhappy that her son is fraternising with a human? Olivia wondered. Alex had kept glancing over at her while they were talking. Is her Royal Vampness one of the ones doing the ‘discussing’ about vampire–human relations?
Olivia saw Ivy leaning forward on the other side of Alex, trying to catch her attention.
Horatio suddenly appeared at Ivy’s side. ‘What may I do for you, Miss Ivy?’
‘Uh, no, no, nothing,’ Ivy mumbled. ‘I was just trying to . . . um . . .’
‘Ivy and I very much enjoyed our drive from the airport,’ Olivia said to the prince, hoping it would be enough for him to include Ivy in their conversation.
Horatio bowed and backed away. The staff had been so quiet, Olivia had almost forgotten they were standing there.
Alex dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. ‘The countryside here is underappreciated by the world’s tourists, in my view. I can never get enough of it.’
‘And I can’t get enough of this pâté,’ Ivy said. She had already finished her little portion and was munching on the watercress around the edges that everyone else was leaving untouched. ‘Do you think there will be any more of it?’