“She’s a sweetheart. One apple slice, and her heart is yours for life.” Andrew laughs as he nods Nick’s way. “It’s Nick’s fault she sounds like a monster. It was his turn to name the next filly the year she was born, and he was obsessed with spy movies at the time. Mistress Death Wish was his favorite villain.”
Nick grins guiltily as he shrugs. “I was twelve. I grew out of it.”
“Lies,” Andrew says. “He still wants to be a spy. He’s always snooping in other people’s business and hacking into places he shouldn’t.”
The queen makes a troubled sound beneath her breath. “Nickolas, we’ve discussed this. I know you’re only amusing yourself, but if you get caught poking around in the wrong places online, you could cause an international incident.”
“I won’t cause an international incident, Mother,” Nick says with a good-natured roll of his eyes. “Andrew is exaggerating.” He shoots a smile my way. “Andrew is the one with a network of spies. You should ask him about—”
“She doesn’t want to hear about that,” Andrew cuts in sharply, looking fully awake for the first during the long, leisurely dinner. “And shouldn’t you be leaving soon, Nick? Your coronation suit isn’t going to tailor itself, and I’m sure Thomas would like to head home to his family sometime before midnight.”
Nick frowns. “You didn’t tell me he was here.”
“I assumed you knew,” Andrew says, coolly, swirling his tea. “He was waiting in the blue room, the one you walk by on your way down the stairs. With your super-spy senses, I didn’t see how you could have missed him.”
With a tight smile, Nick nods and scoots his chair away from the table. “Then, if everyone will excuse me, I’ll be off. I don’t want to keep Thomas waiting any longer. So good to catch up with you, Elizabeth. I look forward to knowing you better, and I hope you’ll call me a friend.”
“Thank you, so m-much.” I wave as he stands
He nods in return and sets his napkin beside his dessert plate. With a final glare in Andrew’s direction, he strides to the head of the table to kiss his mother’s cheek and then disappears through the door leading toward the grand, central staircase.
“So Elizabeth,” Jeffrey says, his voice so deep it makes me jump in surprise, though he isn’t speaking any louder than his brothers, “what sort of films do you enjoy?”
Films? I guess he means movies.
But Lizzy doesn’t watch movies. Lizzy reads—books and online newspapers and fashion blogs and poetry—and when she isn’t reading, she’s listening to an audiobook while she sews. I can’t remember the last time my sister sat down in front of the television. I’m always alone when I stay up to watch old episodes of Faulty Towers.
“I thought I’d put together a screening in the palace theater next week,” Jeffrey rumbles, a challenging note in his voice I don’t understand. “Is there anything, in particular, you’ve wanted to see? I have access to films that are still in theaters, as well. Or maybe just an old favorite?”
“W-well,” I stammer, skimming back through the years, knowing there was a time when Lizzy, Zan, and I would cuddle on the couch in Nanny Chamomile’s room and watch movies, but unable to remember which ones Lizzy liked.
Zan was up for anything with a lot of action, and I loved the teen romances from the 80s, but Lizzy was always so quiet, knitting at the same time, and sometimes she’d fall asleep and—
Oh my God, it’s not that difficult a question. Why can’t I think of anything my sister might like to watch?!
I’m blanking!
Blanking!
And Jeffrey is staring at me like he suspects I have a scandalous secret. And I do have a scandalous secret, but there’s no way Jeffery could know about it. And why is he being so weird when I’ve literally done nothing but sit and smile and eat very quietly in his presence?
Is he always like this?
Or have I unwittingly done something to annoy him?
“Really, we aren’t picky. I’m sure you can remember at least one favorite. Maybe from when you were a child?” Jeffrey presses, making sweat break out on my upper lip.
“Relax, Jeff,” Andrew says with a frown. “Not everyone has strong opinions on entertainment. I’m sure we’ll all enjoy whatever you pick.”
“Not true.” Jeffrey’s gaze remains locked on mine. “Different people have different preferences. Even twins. Wouldn’t you agree, Elizabeth?”
I swallow, squirming in my seat. “Yes. They d-do. I like documentaries. Nature d-documentaries. Animals especially.”
There. Lizzy might not care for movies, but she loves animals.
And if being forced to pretend to enjoy movies about baby monkeys or marching penguins is the worst thing to come from the two of us switching places, she should consider herself a lucky woman.
Jeffrey’s eyes narrow as he nods. “Good to know.”