I must be staring at her, mesmerized, and as if she realizes she’s being watched, the woman turns in my direction. For a second, our eyes meet across the room. I realize that the woman is Mette-Marit, the crown princess, and that she looks nothing like Elisabeth after all. I clear my throat and let my eyes drop to the table in front of me. The palms of my hands are slick, my heart hammering. Will I forever be seeing the ghost of Elisabeth in the faces of strangers? My thoughts dart briefly to Leah Iverson, and I realize that the way she behaved this afternoon in our session also reminded me of Elisabeth. The disjointed sentences, the bruises, the desperation she emanated. I wonder where Leah is right now; I really hope she is safe and taking care of herself tonight.

The woman who was speaking, the minister of education, has stopped and returned to her seat. From every corner, waiters swoop in and refill wine glasses, conscious of the brief lull in proceedings before the next speech. Eirik squeezes my knee lightly.

‘I’m on,’ he says, winking at me before standing up, the room erupting into an enthusiastic round of applause. He walks to the top of the room and stands still, waiting for the applause to die down, smiling and nodding. There is nothing about his composure that suggests he is even mildly nervous to stand here in a room full of the upper echelons of Norway’s society, including the crown prince and princess, about to give a speech. I am mesmerized watching him speak; he comes across as a man entirely in his element – confident, knowledgeable, with a dash of humor thrown in. It’s strange to think that this is the same man who sleeps next to me every night, whose most intimate moments are shared with me. I think about the sex earlier, how it felt more like the thrilling sex between strangers than the usual, less adventurous sex we normally have, carefully planned around ovulation cycles and likeliness of conception. For a moment, I allow myself to imagine that tonight of all nights was the time it actually worked, and that in this very moment that much-wanted child is beginning inside me: a single cell breaking into two. I make myself stop this train of thought because it hurts too much. Every month, no matter how hopeful I’ve felt, no matter how hard I have tried to believe that it will happen for us eventually, the dreaded blood arrives. My heart beats faster. I take a big glug of champagne and return my attention to Eirik’s speech. I hear him speak my name and get the sudden sensation of several hundred pairs of eyes on me.