I sit on the sofa and stick my hands under my legs to keep them from shaking. Everything is fine. There is no reason to panic. Everything is fine.
Everything is not fine.
“He said he was on our side and we couldn’t trust the Ambassador,” I say to Georgie. “And Henri thinks he’s trustworthy. Or has been in the past. He wants me to do another video convincing Pap to come. What do I do? Which is the right thing?”
Georgie strides across the room and wraps her arms around me. “Don’t do anything,” she says. “Pap will know what he has to do without our interference. If there’s anyone we know we can trust in all this, it’s Pap.”
She is right, of course. Pap doesn’t need my opinion on what he should do, and he probably wouldn’t follow it anyway. “But what if we can’t trust the Harts?”
“They’re letting us use their townhouse,” Georgie reminds me.
“But what if it’s a trick?”
Georgie hugs me a little tighter. “Grandma always said to trust your instinct with people, right?” she says, holding my hand in hers.
I nod. That was one of Grandma’s many lessons to us.
“Yes, but my instinct is all confused these days. I thought we could trust Mr. Orcutt, and clearly we can’t.”
“Well, my gut says we trust the Harts,” Georgie says. “They didn’t have to help us, and they are. If they weren’t on our side, why would they? What kind of trick could it be?”
“I don’t know! I don’t have the mind of a master villain! I don’t know what someone might do.”
Georgie’s mouth turns up in a smile, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh at me.
“I suppose I should be glad you are not a master criminal in the making. I might be nervous sharing a bed with you.”
She’s trying to make me feel better, and it’s working, even if just a bit. I smile too. “I guess that’s one career path off the table.”
“There are plenty of others,” she says with a grin.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
“What we’ve been doing.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough,” I say and sag into the sofa.
“Sometimes things take time,” Georgie says. “It’s only been two weeks.”
“Two weeks too long,” I mutter.
Georgie sighs. “I agree with you, but try to be patient.”
I’m twelve. I don’t do patient.
“Come on, let’s have a soda. That will make you feel better.”
It can’t hurt, I suppose. We go into the kitchen and are just popping open the cans when the doorbell rings.
“Maybe someone is bringing us pizza,” Georgie says.
“Why would someone bring us pizza?” I ask.
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
I laugh. “Dream big, Georgie, dream big.”
“What are you doing here?” we hear Henri ask, suspicion in his voice, to whoever is at the front door. So, probably not pizza. I peek out of the kitchen area toward the front door and see Felix on the threshold.
I grab Georgie’s arm. “It’s Felix. He’s here! Why would he be here? Do you think Henri will let him in?”
“Hush!” Georgie urges as she peers past me to the front of the house. I notice she’s not laughing anymore. “Henri won’t let anything happen to us. He’ll get rid of him.”
But instead of slamming the door in his face, Henri is letting him inside.
“Georgie!” I hiss, digging my fingernails into her arm.
She disengages my hand from her arm. “Henri must be sure he’s on our side,” she says. “There’s no other reason he’d let him in. Everything is going to be okay, Fritzi. Don’t panic.”
I don’t know. Panic seems to be my default emotion right now.
Henri comes into the kitchen. “Georgie, go get your mother.”
“Why is Felix here?” I ask. “Is he on our side?”
“He is,” Henri says. “He has a message for your mother. Please go get her.”
Even though only one of us has to give the message, I’m not leaving Georgie’s side. I follow her like a shadow up the stairs.
Georgie knocks twice on Mam’s door and then enters without waiting for a response. Mam is sitting on her bed, a book open on her lap. She looks at us expectantly.
“Mam,” Georgie says. “That man, Felix Martel, is here. Henri let him in. He says he’s on our side and that he has a message for you.”
Mam puts her book aside, a look of relief on her face. “I didn’t think Felix would really betray us. He’s always been such a loyal adviser.”
“But what about him wanting me to make the video so Pap would come here and then he’d lose the country? What about that?”
“Perhaps you misunderstood him,” Mam says. “Felix knows as well as I do that under the circumstances, for Frederick to leave would be admitting defeat.”
Maybe I did misunderstand him. It’s been known to happen. He seemed pretty clear in what he wanted, but maybe I was wrong. I must have been wrong.
I like the sound of this. Felix is really on our side. He is here with a message for Mam. Maybe even a message from Pap. We need to go down and see what it is.
Downstairs, Felix greets us with a courteous bow of his head. “Your Majesty, it is so good to see you again. Your Royal Highnesses, you are both a vision, as always.”
The tone is right, the words are fine, but still a lingering ache sits in the pit of my stomach. He did bring me Sir Fred, and Sir Fred was not booby-trapped or bugged. I suppose I really should trust him.
“Shall we sit?” Mam suggests, and she leads me and Georgie to the sofa, where she sits between us. Felix sits in the armchair, and Henri stands like a sentinel by the door.
“I am here,” Felix begins, “because Frederick believes you are in danger.”
Mam stiffens and clutches my hand tighter.
“Have you spoken with him?”
“I have, and he wants you moved to a safe space. He is going to meet you there in a day or two.”
“Thomas Hart is looking for a safe space for us right now,” Mam says. “We know this place has been compromised by the media presence.”
“You cannot trust Thomas Hart. He’s the one who alerted the media. You need to go someplace unknown to him.”
Could it have been Mr. Hart who told the media where we were, and everyone was just blaming it on me and my videos? It’s possible. And even likely. So it’s Mr. Hart we can’t trust, and we can trust Felix. My head is swimming.
“And you have someplace for us to go?” Mam asks, one eyebrow arched.
“I do,” he says, hands clasped casually around one knee.
“And Frederick is going to meet us there?”
“He is.”
“Why has he not contacted us?”
“Like I said, your safety has been compromised, and he was afraid to contact you directly, being uncertain who might intercept his message.”
“And he is coming here?” Mam asks. “But if he leaves, he abdicates. He knows that. Is he abdicating?”
“Not if no one knows he’s left the country,” Felix assures her, and he sounds so certain that I start to relax. He is one of Pap’s advisers. He knows what’s best for us. He is working for us. Things will work out. “And believe me,” Felix says, “Frederick is very eager to be reunited with all of you again. He says once you are together, he promises you’ll never be separated again.”
This does not have the comforting effect Felix might have hoped it would.
“He said that?” I ask. “Those exact words? He said he promised?”
“Yes. That’s what he said. He said he promised you. And you know your father would never break a promise to you.”
What I know is that my father would never make a promise he can’t fulfill. When we left and I asked him to promise me we’d be together soon, he said his word was enough and he would not make promises that might be impossible to keep. If he wouldn’t make a promise to me then, when I was so scared, he certainly wouldn’t send a message that he was promising us something.
Felix is lying.
I stand up. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I say, ignoring the fact that I am still holding my can of soda, and head to the kitchen.
Georgie follows me. “What’s wrong?” she whispers. There are no doors between the downstairs rooms, so there’s no real expectation of privacy.
There are several things wrong. The first is that I think I’m going to throw up or pass out or something. I sit on the chair and put my head between my knees. Georgie takes the soda from me and hands me a glass of water.
I sit up and take a sip.
“He’s lying to us,” I say.
“I know.”
“Pap would never say he promised.”
“I know.”
“Do you think Mam knows?”
“I think so,” Georgie says, but I don’t like the note of uncertainty in her voice.
“What do we do?”
“We don’t go anywhere with him, that’s for sure,” she says. “And we get him out of here. No harm done.”
Georgie pokes her head through the doorway. “Mam, can you come here?” she calls. “Fritzi needs you.”
It’s as good an excuse as any.
Mam comes into the kitchen and rushes to me. “Are you ill?”
“Felix is lying to us,” I whisper.
She nods. “I know. I’ll ask him to leave, and then we’ll see what Thomas Hart has in the way of other places for us to live.” She puts one hand on my head and the other on Georgie’s. Mam is back. “It will be fine, girls. Trust me.”
How can she stay so calm? My hands are shaking. I’m hot and cold all at the same time. We let the enemy in. Henri let the enemy in. How can we even trust Henri again?
Mam turns to go back into the living room, and Georgie starts to follow, but Mam raises a finger and says, “Stay out here for the time being, girls.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
In the living room, Mam, sounding more like herself than she has done since the ball, says, “I think it is time you leave, Felix.”
“But Your Majesty,” he protests. “Frederick asked me to do this for him.”
“No,” she says, very simply. “I do not think he did. It is time for you to leave.”
I’m sure he’s going to argue or grab her or do something to paint himself suddenly as public enemy number one, and Henri tenses, ready to intercede as needed, but nothing happens except that Felix bows slightly, says “as you wish,” and leaves.
My whole body goes limp in relaxation. He’s gone. Nothing bad happened.
In the living room, Henri says, “I believe that was a rash decision, Your Majesty.”
“It was my decision, Henri. Do you question me?”
“I am in charge of your security. You need to trust me.”
“And I do,” Mam says, “but I did not trust him.”
I don’t know if Henri is going to answer that or not, because the front door smashes open, and Felix is back, flanked by two men with guns. Georgie and I duck under the kitchen table, for whatever protection that will give us.
Shots are fired, and I try to scream, but I don’t think any sound comes out.
We need to call someone. Georgie has her phone in her hand. Whom do we call? I know no one’s numbers. Not even Jasmine’s.
Jasmine.
“Call 911,” I whisper to Georgie. “Jasmine said that was the emergency number.” At least I hope that’s what she meant when she said she had 911 on speed dial.
Also, Jasmine watches my videos.
Maybe, just maybe, she could send help if I asked that way.
I pull the phone out of my back pocket, even as more shots and shouts are heard from the living room. Who is shooting? Has someone been hit? Is Mam okay?
I need to focus.
I turn on the camera.
“Fritzi here,” I say in English. “Jasmine. Anyone. If you see this, send help. The police. Quick.”
I upload it.
Next to me, Georgie is giving the person on the other end of her call the address.
One way or another, help has to come to us.
From the living room, Felix calls. “Fredericka, Georgiana, get in here. I want everyone where I can see them.”
That means Felix is not dead. It means Felix is in charge. Oh, please, God, please let help come.
Georgie and I clasp hands. What will we find when we go into the living room?
Two men with guns stand by the front door.
Henri lies on the floor, bleeding, and Mam kneels over him trying to help. His eyes are open, and he is gasping for breath, but he’s not dead. I only hope help comes in time.
Felix points a handgun at us.
“Sit,” he says.
We sit.
I’m clutching Georgie’s hand so tightly my fingers hurt.
“Cassandra,” Felix says. “Go sit by your daughters.”
“You need to get help for this man,” Mam says, ignoring the utter rudeness of him calling her by her first name.
“You’ll all need help if you do not do what I say,” he responds.
Mam comes, and we move apart enough for her to sit between us. We both need to be sitting next to our mam right now. She takes our hands and holds on tight. At least we’re alive.
For now.