“When they ask us how we think their palace is, what should we say?” Kasper asked in a hushed voice as we made our way down a long corridor toward the dining hall.

“We’ll just have to be as vague as possible,” I suggested. “The truth is too brutal to say all at once over dinner.”

“I just hope we can make it through the meal without someone saying, ‘Off with their heads,’” he muttered.

“Even if they did say that, who do they have to enforce it?” I asked dryly.

Kasper laughed. “Good point.”

We reached the hall to find Mikko, Linnea, Kennet, and Lisbet already seated around the table. Four guards were standing at attention in the corners of the room, including Linnea’s personal guard, Cyrano, and they were all wearing matching uniforms—a frosty blue satin number that rivaled the Högdragen uniform in style and flair. They weren’t exactly practical, although the guards did have swords sheathed on their hips in flashy metallic sashes, but the uniforms did identify their station.

As I made my way over to the table, I couldn’t help but notice the icy glare from Cyrano. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the uniform, although I was certain he wasn’t happy about that, or because he had to stand guard while Kasper and I got to eat at the table.

Kennet stood up. “Bryn, why don’t you take the seat next to me?” He pulled out the chair beside his. I’d been planning to sit next to Kasper at the end of the table, but I didn’t want to seem rude by denying the Prince’s request.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him and allowed him to push my chair in for me, even though that was definitely not proper etiquette.

“So, how are you enjoying the palace?” Linnea leaned forward to speak to me, not minding if her elbows were on the table, and pushing elegant dinnerware to the side to get a better look at me.

“I can honestly say there’s nothing else quite like it,” I said.

“It is truly magnificent,” Kasper said, echoing my sentiments.

A butler came around to begin serving the first course. Before I had the chance, Kennet slipped my silk napkin off the table and dropped it artfully on my lap. His hand brushed my thigh when he pulled it back, but neither of us acknowledged it.

“This is your first time here, isn’t it?” Linnea asked, turning her attention to Kasper.

He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“My husband and I are dying to know what you think of our security here.” Linnea leaned back in her chair so the butler could place her napkin on her lap, then he set a bowl of tomato bisque before her. “We already love the suggestion about the uniforms.”

Behind her in the corner, Cyrano snorted a bit. He was doing a horrible job of keeping his expression blank, the way any good guard would do when they were working. Tomorrow, I knew that Kasper would have a long talk with him about the appropriate way for guards to behave.

“I’ve been saying they should be back in uniform for years,” Lisbet commented between spoonfuls of her soup.

“They used to be?” I asked in surprise.

Lisbet dabbed at her mouth with her napkin before answering. “Yes, when I was a young girl, things were different. Much stricter.”

“Things change, Nana.” Linnea chose her words deliberately, looking over to Lisbet. “Mikko is leading us into a more equitable era.”

Since she was home, the Queen had begun to wear lipstick again. Fortunately, she’d gone with a dark pink instead of the usual bright red, which suited her pale complexion much better. Her shoulder-length ringlet curls sprang free around her head, and her wrists were draped in several jeweled bracelets.

Everyone at dinner was dressed formally, including Kennet, whose steel-gray suit appeared to be sharkskin, since it had a subtle sheen to it. I’d like to say I didn’t notice how striking he looked in it, but it would be impossible not to.

“Equity should never come at the cost of safety,” Lisbet said, and her tone challenged anyone to disagree with her.

“Safety should never come at the expense of fun.” Kennet defied her with a broad grin, which caused Mikko scowl at him from across the table.

“Forgive my brother. He has never been known to take things seriously,” King Mikko said, speaking for the first time since dinner had started. It always startled me a bit when he spoke—in part because he rarely did, and in part because of the sheer gravity of his voice.

“Forgive my brother,” Kennet countered. “He has never been known to take a joke.”

“Both of you, behave,” Linnea said in a firm but hushed tone. In that moment, she had a weariness beyond her years, and I suspected this hadn’t been the first time she’d had to remind the brothers to act appropriately. “We have guests.”

“You spoke of making changes,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Have there been changes to the guard in recent years?”

“Not dramatic ones.” Mikko pushed the soup bowl away from him, having only eaten a few bites, and a butler hurried to take it away. “Most of the alterations were under my father’s reign. He streamlined the guard and appointed Bayle Lundeen to implement the changes.”

Kennet took a drink from his wine and smirked. “The kingdom says it was out of his strong sense of justice and commitment to an egalitarian society, but the truth was that our father was a tremendous cheapskate. He’d much rather have kept the vault full than paid the guard their rightful due, which meant we needed a smaller guard.”