Olivia looked into her clear blue eyes and realised that her grandmother was talking about her biological dad. She’d fallen out with her son and it had taken Charles fifteen years to come back here. As the Countess left the room, Olivia imagined if ten years from now she and Ivy weren’t talking. I wouldn’t know where she was or what she was doing.
The thought made her anger fade a little.
Olivia examined her sister. ‘I never should have brought that shirt,’ she said. ‘Those frilly sleeves are horrible.’
Ivy gave a hopeful smile. ‘I picked it because I thought it was the most cheerleader thing in your suitcase.’
‘Hmph,’ Olivia said. ‘So . . .’
‘So, what?’ Ivy asked.
‘So why are you dressed up as me and talking to Prince Alex?’
Ivy pulled Olivia over to sit on her coffin. ‘OK,’ Ivy began. ‘I wasn’t trying to get closer to Prince Alex. I think he’s pretending to be interested in you to get back at his mother. If I pretended to be you, I hoped I could trick him into revealing what he was up to.’
Olivia couldn’t believe that Alex would have any ulterior motive. ‘But Alex and I are just friends.’
Ivy raised an eyebrow. ‘Private tours of the palace? Poetry on the top of a hill? Taking you ice-skating? That’s all pretty romantic for someone who just wants to be friends.’
Olivia had to admit that the walk on the hilltop had been pretty romantic.
Ivy went on. ‘And ever since Jackson was all weird about Valentine’s Day, you’ve been brooding over him, so maybe Prince Alex seemed like a better option. But if he’s just pretending, I wasn’t going to let him break your heart.’
Olivia remembered what he’d said after he recited the poem: something about longing to escape his circle. Had he been trying to tell her something? The Queen had made it pretty clear that she only just tolerated humans in her presence, and Alex could have been saying how his mother would never let him have a human girlfriend.
‘You might be right,’ Olivia admitted to her sister. ‘Not about him pretending, I don’t think, but about him liking me.’
‘Do you like him back?’ Ivy asked.
Olivia was asking herself the same question. An odd feeling crept over her and she was surprised to hear herself say, ‘I don’t know.’
Jackson had always seemed perfect for her – except for when she thought he might have been a vampire – and, even though they hadn’t kissed yet, being his girlfriend made her so happy . . . usually. Lately, being his girlfriend had been kind of hard. These past two days with Alex had been a breeze by comparison. No long lines of girls, no rushing off anywhere, no Amy Teller hovering over them looking at her watch.
Then something occurred to her.
‘Oh dear,’ Olivia said aloud.
‘What?’ Ivy wanted to know.
‘He doesn’t know I’m dating Jackson,’ Olivia replied. ‘I’d tried to tell him when we were ice-skating but couldn’t find the right moment.’
‘That was worrying me,’ Ivy said. ‘At least now we know he wasn’t ready to ruin your relationship with Jackson in order to get back at his mum. That would have made him evil.’
Olivia couldn’t imagine Alex being cruel; he seemed so sensitive. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’
‘His mother is a separationist, and everyone says they fight a lot.’ Ivy jumped up and started pacing. ‘Having a human girlfriend would be one sure-fire way to make his mom really angry.’
Olivia sighed. ‘I think you’re right that Alex is sometimes unhappy with what his mother and his position demand of him, but he’s not a bad person.’
Olivia was worried it was worse than him pretending to like her; what if he really did like her? If that was true, she was going to have to do something about it. She was with Jackson, and even if things were weird between them right now, she had to stay true to him.
‘So . . .’ Ivy said.
‘So, what?’ Olivia asked.
Ivy sat back down on the coffin. ‘Am I forgiven?’
‘You’re forgiven,’ Olivia replied, giving her sister a big hug. ‘As long as we can bury that shirt in my suitcase and forget I ever bought it.’
‘Deal,’ Ivy said.
‘Or maybe I should make you keep wearing it as punishment?’ Olivia grinned wickedly.
Ivy let out a strangled noise and hurriedly pulled it off.
The next morning at breakfast, Ivy was delighted to see a table of pancakes, sausages, hash browns and eggs laid out buffet-style.
‘Yum,’ she said to Olivia as they entered the dining room with their father. He sat down towards the foot of the table. ‘Nudge me if I look like a werewolf during a full moon.’
The Countess beamed from her position at the head of the table. ‘I’m so glad you like it. It was Tessa’s idea.’
Ivy grinned at her new friend, who was laying out a selection of maple syrups, and mouthed, ‘Thank you!’
Tessa smiled back. She held up a bottle and made a show of pointing to it and mouthing, ‘Try this one.’
‘Now, fill up, girls,’ the Count said as he sat down opposite his wife. ‘Your grandmother will be putting you to work soon with all the preparations for this evening.’
Ivy didn’t need telling twice and heaped food on to her plate. She made sure to choose the maple syrup that Tessa had recommended, which was labelled ‘Apricot Maple Syrup’.
The Countess cleared her throat. ‘Charles, my son.’
Ivy paused in her feasting, sensing that something was about to happen.
‘I had hoped that you would be by my side tonight and escort me into the ball?’ The Countess spoke slowly but with a hopeful look on her face. ‘Like you used to do?’
Please say yes, Ivy wished. Please!
Ivy remembered what he’d said in the car before they’d arrived at the house. He was only here for his daughters – but maybe spending time here had convinced him to forgive his parents?
Mr Vega hesitated. ‘I regret to say that I am not feeling entirely myself today and so do not think I will be able to attend. I apologise.’
‘Of course,’ said the Countess, her voice catching in her throat. ‘I hope you feel . . . better . . . soon.’
Ivy didn’t know what to say and the rest of breakfast passed in almost silence. Half an hour later, she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her full belly.