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“Oh, get out of here you sly old fox!” giggled Mother, and swatted at the seat of Father’s trousers.

“Thanks Mother!” I hurried after Father. Mother sighed in a long-suffering way and turned to tidy up my room and pack.

Father and I spent the afternoon gathering documents to be carried with us—business proposals, trade agreements, and several letters.

Hubert added a letter to the stack, which surprised me. He had never struck me as the type to send letters. “Who is this for?” I asked.

“That is none of your concern,” Hubert said in a clipped, unfriendly tone.

I handed it back. “I can’t deliver a letter if I don’t know who to give it to.”

Hubert rolled his eyes and pulled a quill from inside his jacket pocket, scribbling on the outside of the envelope before returning the letter, which was addressed:

To: Crown Princess Aria

From: Crown Prince Hubert

“Thank you. I will see that she receives it.” I smiled at Hubert, but he simply turned and walked off.

“He is a charmer, that one,” said Father sarcastically.

The journey to Avivia was a merry one. Upon our arrival, Curtis leapt from the carriage and bounded up the front path, stopping to pump hands with anyone who stretched out an arm. His energy was contagious; the usually stoic greeting party broke into smiles as Curtis greeted each person by name. I envied his ability to naturally put people at ease, and his knack for remembering not only the names and faces of nearly everyone he met, but also tidbits of information about each person.

When greeting someone, instead of the mechanical ‘Pleased to meet you’ greeting Hubert gave, Curtis would grab hands, shake vigorously, and say, “Why if it isn’t the Duchess of Mostentia! How is your cat? Isn’t it the one with differently colored eyes?”

Once the entire company had disembarked, Curtis sprang up the front steps and was greeted by the same servant who always served us pale pink juice. “Jeorge!” Curtis cried jovially. “It is so nice to see you again. How is your daughter?”

I had never even thought to ask the servants’ names. I eavesdropped on their conversation as Jeorge told Curtis about his daughter, who suffered from uncontrolled tremors, and watched as Curtis followed Jeorge back to the kitchens, listening to his concerns all the while.

Curtis still wasn’t back by the time we were called in for Aria to welcome us before being led to our rooms. After the customary greeting, Aria held up her hand, stalling the servant who was to lead us out.

“Where is Prince Curtis?” Aria asked. “It was my understanding that he was to arrive with your company today.”

Father stepped forward. “Your Majesty, we beg your forgiveness, but our prince must have lost track of the time. He is with us, but we were separated. He is discussing urgent matters with colleagues.”

Aria stared at Father, not batting an eye. Her entire demeanor seemed to shout, ‘What is more urgent than greeting the crown princess?’

Father respectfully lowered his gaze. “Again, we apologize most deeply, Your—"

He was cut off as Curtis threw open the doors and strolled in. “Your Majesty!” he said upon reaching the throne. He bowed low. “Charmed, as always.”

“Likewise,” droned Aria. “What caused your tardiness?”

“Personal matters, Your Majesty.” Curtis answered breezily and didn’t elaborate about his time with Jeorge, only deepening my respect that he would consider a servant’s personal matters worth keeping confidential.

CHAPTER 10

“Curtis, you amaze me,” I told him sincerely that afternoon. We had left the grounds and were sitting on the shore of a nearby beach, watching the waves rhythmically roll in. I wanted to soak in the free time we had before we were launched into back-to-back meetings the next day.

“Why is that?” Curtis asked.

“You make everyone feel so comfortable,” I exclaimed. “You remember everyone’s name and make them feel like the most important person in the world. Like they really matter.”

Curtis seemed puzzled. “Everyone does matter. The world needs everyone—farmers, butchers, soldiers, blacksmiths… Everyone has to do their part for a society to succeed.”

“I know that!” I said. How could I explain what I meant? “It is just that…being a prince, people expect you to be high and mighty. Distant, like your brother. But you treat commoners just the same as royalty.”

“We all put on our trousers one pant leg at a time!”