Page 16 of The Midnight Princess

Jacob grins. “Are you going to teach me how to do that? Tell me to push off but make it seem like you’re doing me a favor.”

There’s something infectious about his smiles. They make me want to return them, smiling with my whole chest, like a child with bunched cheeks and squinty eyes. I would look silly.

Before I can answer, our front door slams open, and my sister Ella comes bounding through. I step back, banging against the hard wall of Jacob’s chest. He grips my elbows, keeping me on my feet and nearly enclosing me in his arms.

The contact is brief. Familiar.

“The prince is—” Ella skids to a stop and blinks up at Jacob.“—here,” she finishes. Her hand shields the lower half of her face and to me she mouths, “Hot.”

Jacob’s laugh is unrestrained. “Call me Jacob,” he says.

Ella’s fingers prance together. “You’re the crown prince of Vorburg.”

He cups a hand around the back of his neck. “That’s what they tell me.”

“I have so many questions—”

I turn Ella and propel her from the room.

“His Royal Highness has unpacking to do,” I say, slipping into my familiar role as big sister and law-giver. “There will be lots of time to get to know each other.”

Out.

She spins out of my grasp. “Can I get a picture?”

Jacob glances at me over her head and pushes his hair back, loosening the loop. A fall of hair kisses his lips and my fingers curl into my palms.Stultes es.We’ll have to fix that, too.

“Is that going to break a rule?” he asks.

His question relegates me to being a warden, and I register the soft pressure of disappointment. As with all emotions, it will pass if I ignore it. “She’s not going to post it in public. Go ahead.”

Jacob swipes Ella’s phone, holding it at arm’s length for a selfie as he angles her within the frame. She perches behind him on her tiptoes, hands resting on his shoulder. For the app, she’ll cut herself out of the profile picture.

“Good?” he asks.

She examines the picture and makes a sound at the back of her throat. “My hair’s doing its thing today.”

“It looks great, Your…” His brow lifts. “…Majesty?”

My sister laughs. “Not in this country. You can call me Ella. I’m across the landing and two doors down on the right. Come find me when you need a break. We can fire upRunaway Wagonto blow off steam. You play?”

Runaway Wagonis a racing video game. The medieval wagons are heaped with vegetables, the load tipping precariously as the player pilots the goods down the mountain course and into a market town, avoiding competition-adverse trade guilds and wealth-redistributing bandit gangs. Such are the morsels of information one can glean from Ella, simply by osmosis.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Jacob holds up a fist and Ella gives it a bump.

Watching them, I register a pang of jealousy. Two whole minutes and they already know how to be friends. With me, he is tense, watchful. I wish—but no. I bite the edge of my lip. Everyone in my family wishes they had Ella’s easy touch with strangers.

“All right. I won’t keep you,” Ella says, giving a tiny salute.

Jacob stares at the empty doorway, scratching his neck. “She did it, too—took off and made it sound like a personal favor.” He turns to me and drops his hand. “Do you want to come over and help me figure out the shower knobs?”

“Another time. I’m sure you have a lot to do,” I say.

He shakes his head, a smile tucking one cheek. “It’s like a superpower.” He grabs his duffel bag and heads to his suite. I watch the effortless play of his muscles across his back with the tingly sensation of standing on the edge of a cliff, gusts of wind rocking me on my feet.

“You look like you hit it off with Ella,” I call, almost desperate. “It’s not too late to request a different tutor.”

He tosses the bag into his room and gives me a long, penetrating look.