The Heir by Kiera Cass

mean to, but I did. I tried not to be upset for letting my guard down. Hopefully it would make for some good pictures. I curtsied and continued around the space.
    I saw Henri across the room, Erik shadowing his every step. When our eyes met, he began walking my way immediately, grinning from ear to ear.
    “Hello! Hyvää iltaa !” He kissed my cheek, which, again, would have been shocking from anyone else.
    “He says ‘Good evening.’”
    “Oh um . . . heevat eelah ?” I mumbled, attempting to duplicate his words.
    He chuckled as I butchered his language. “Good, good!” Was he always this cheerful?
    I turned to Erik. “How bad was it really?”
    His tone was kind, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I’m sorry to say, there is no way I could have even guessed at what that was.”
    I smiled, genuinely. The pair of them were so unassuming,and considering how alienated Henri must have felt, that was saying something.
    Before I could continue the conversation, Josie was beside me. “Great party, Eadlyn. You’re Henri, right? I’ve seen your picture,” she said in a rush, sticking her hand out to greet him.
    He must have been confused, but he accepted the gesture all the same.
    “I’m Josie. Eadlyn and I are practically sisters,” she gushed.
    “Except that we’re not related at all,” I added.
    Erik tried to convey everything to Henri quickly and quietly, which distracted Josie.
    “Who are you?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing your picture.”
    “I’m Sir Henri’s translator. He only speaks Finnish.”
    Josie looked incredibly disappointed. I realized then that she must have come over because she found Henri attractive. He certainly seemed younger than most of the others and did have that happy-go-lucky air about him, which she must have thought suited her better than me.
    “So . . . ,” she began, “how does he, like, even live?”
    Without even checking with Henri, Erik spoke up. “If you’re practically Her Highness’s sister, then I’m sure the palace has afforded you an excellent education. So, of course you know the relations between Illéa and Swendway are old and strong, drawing many Swendish people to settle here, making small communities, and vice versa. It’s not difficult at all.”
    I pressed my lips together, trying not to grin at how articulately he put Josie in her place.
    Josie nodded. “Oh, of course. Umm . . .” And that was as hard as she was willing to try. “Excuse me.”
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered once she was out of earshot. “It has nothing to do with you two. She’s just terrible.”
    “No offense taken,” Erik replied honestly. He conversed back and forth for a moment with Henri in Finnish, presumably catching him up on what just happened.
    “Pardon me. I need to speak with someone, but I’ll see you at dinner.” I curtsied and left them, searching for any sort of retreat.
    I’d been totally thrown off by that interview earlier, and I was proud that I pulled myself back together in the aftermath. But Josie had the ability to ruffle me without fail.
    I saw Mom alone and rushed over to her, hoping for some solace. Instead I was greeted by a glare similar to Ahren’s when I’d first come in.
    “Why didn’t you tell us that was what you were going to do?” she asked quietly, holding a smile as if nothing was wrong.
    I did the same as I answered. “I thought it would be good. That’s what Dad did.”
    “Yes, but he did it on a much smaller scale and privately. You put their shame on display. No one will admire you for that.”
    I huffed. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t realize.”
    She put an arm around me. “I don’t mean to be hard onyou. We know you’re trying.” Just then a photographer came up to get a candid photo of us talking. I wondered what the headline for that one would be? Something about the Selected teaching the Selector maybe.
    “What am I supposed to do now?”
    She looked around the room, double-checking that no one