On Boxing Day, the sun shines brightly against the blue sky as we ready ourselves to return to Valcourt. By the time we set off, it seems as though like Tessa and Arabella are old friends and it feels like all is right with the world. Grandmum is staying at the castle for another few days to visit friends. Arabella elected to get a ride with us back home, and the two of them have been having a grand time swapping stories and making fun of me along the way.

Arabella takes great pleasure in sharing a story about a time when I was ten and ended up with a slug on my arse when we went for a swim up in a pond just outside the village.

“I’ll never forget it, as long as I live.” Arabella laughs so hard, tears spring to her eyes. “This hideous slug pulsing away on his right butt cheek while Arthur screamed like a girl until our nanny managed to remove it with some salt.”

“Oh, please! Don’t try to pretend that you wouldn’t have lost your mind had it been you,” I say, poking Arabella on the shoulder. “Remember when you found a mouse in the stables and you got so frightened you threw up?”

I bust out laughing and it takes me half a minute to realize I’m laughing alone. I stop and look at them. “What? Why isn’t that one funny?”

Tessa stares at me, with a poker face. “It’s a mouse. That’s not funny at all.”

“Come on. It’s hilarious. She threw up right on the poor little thing.”

They both wrinkle up their noses at me and shake their heads a little. “Not funny,” Arabella says. “Not funny at all, really.”

“Yes, Arthur,” Tessa adds, “you should really practice better judgment than that if you’re going to be king someday.”

I stare at them, shocked at how quickly the mood in the limo has changed and how fickle my audience has become. Then I notice a little gleam in Arabella’s eyes, and when I glance back at Tessa I see she’s trying to stifle a laugh. “Are you two…”

They both burst out laughing, falling all over their seats as I sit stunned. I watch them for a moment as they giggle and say things like, ‘Did you see his face just now? Hee hee.’ ‘Priceless. Oh, we got him good.’

“How is it possible that after only one day of hanging around together I’m now on the outside, when I’m the entire reason the two of you know each other in the first place?”

Tessa shrugs. “Women are funny that way.”

Arabella nods. “Sorry, brother—this is likely how it’s going to be from now on so you’ll just have to get used to it.”

I shake my head, and mumble something about not wanting to get used to having my jewels busted on a regular basis, but inside I feel very pleased at how things have turned out.

As we near the city, Tessa sits up straight in her seat and says, “Arabella, you should come with us to my parents’ house for dinner tonight. They’ve decided to have an extra meal tonight since I was away.”

“Could I?” Arabella’s eyes light up.

Oh, Christ. That’s all I need, for Tessa’s idiot brothers to be staring down Arabella’s top while we pass the gravy. “She can only come if Bram has a girlfriend at the moment.”

“Who’s Bram?” Arabella says.

“He’s my brother.” Tessa rolls her eyes at me. “She would never be interested in him. She has far better taste than that, I can tell already.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

* * *

An hour later I find myself overruled, and watch my sister, who has ended up sitting next to Finn, the youngest of the Sharpe boys who is finishing architecture school this year. The way her cheeks turn red when he addresses her causes a sense of protective rage to simmer inside me as I try to maintain a conversation with her sister-in-law, Nina, who seems intent on explaining to me at great length the horrors of breast-feeding while one is suffering from mastitis.

“Sounds just awful,” I say, trying not to look while she makes a circle with one finger around her right nipple to illustrate the extent of the infection. “I hope it goes away very soon. We should really try to find a cure for that. Maybe there’s someone at the women’s health foundation I could talk to.”

“Would you?” Nina grins at me as though I’m a hero. “Noah, did you hear that? Arthur’s going to find a cure for mastitis.”

Noah raises one eyebrow. “Is he now? Have you been to medical school, then, Arthur?”

“No, I only meant—”

Lars pipes up from down at the end of the table. “Why exactly would you bother trying to find a cure for something we already know how to treat?”

“What’s mastitis?” one of Tessa’s nephews asks from the kiddie table.

“It’s when a mum’s breasts get all gooey when she’s feeding her baby,” one of the other kids answers.

“Jesus Christ, can we not talk about breast-feeding at the table?” Reuben says.

“Why not, Dad? It’s the most natural thing in the world,” Finn says, clearly trying to impress Arabella with his open-mindedness about women’s health issues.

“That may be but so is taking a poo, and we don’t talk about that at dinner, now do we?” Reuben says, shutting down the conversation.

“Can you pass the sausage rolls?” Bram asks. “I don’t think the lovely Princess Arabella has had a chance to try one yet.”

“I offered her one earlier, but she doesn’t like them,” Finn says, an edge in his voice.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. They’re not both after her, are they? I try to get Tessa’s attention so she can put a stop to this, but she’s engaged in a very deep conversation with her mum, who wants to hear every detail of our reaction to the photo albums Tessa made for us.

Why exactly did I want Tessa and Arabella to be on good terms?