Mother: Please bring your friend to dine at the main house. Drinks at seven. I’d like to meet her properly and apologize for intruding this morning.

“Hmm.” That was unexpectedly civilized.

“What?” Dani asked. He turned the phone to her. “Should we go?” she asked. “We should go, right?”

“I don’t know,” he said, trying to reason through the situation as he spoke. “I suppose, if she’s feeling magnanimous, it might be a good idea, but that doesn’t account for my father. You’re going to meet them at the wedding, of course, but now that they probably think . . .” He copied the same waving-between-them motion she’d done earlier. “It might be better to get it over with here. And I can explain that we’re not . . .” She made the same gesture, and he laughed. “Mind you, it will probably still be, if not horrible, an unpleasant evening.”

“Well, my evenings here so far have been extremely pleasant. I could do with a little unpleasantness, or else you’ll never be rid of me.”

He could only wish. Having Dani here was a balm for his soul, as corny as that sounded. When she was around, the circumstances of his life, the ones that usually chafed, faded in importance. She made him feel like he existed as a person, an interesting and worthy person, independent of those circumstances.

Plus, she was just so damn fun.

And he feared he was falling for her dog, who was proving the cure for the insomnia that had plagued Max his whole life.

That evening, walking with Dani toward the main house, he said, “Listen. I have no idea how this is going to go. My parents are huge snobs.”

“I can take it. Leo told me about some of his first encounters with the king. If he can survive it, so can I.”

He wasn’t going to let them be horrible to her, though. “I’m not sure Leo’s experience is that instructive. My father is, elementally, much worse than King Emil.” Max was confident, though, that even if dinner was a disaster, it wouldn’t change anything about his relationship with Dani. She knew him. She wasn’t going to judge him by his parents. The thought was exceedingly buoying. It felt like . . . insurance. A buffer that made his parents’ machinations matter a little less than usual.

At the house, Frau Bittner greeted them in the foyer. She normally only did that if they were having a formal dinner with guests. But perhaps Dani was that guest. His parents did know how to roll out the protocol when it suited them.

“Max.” As they approached the dining room, Seb slipped out the door, leaving it ajar. Chatter flowed from the room, which sounded like it was full of more people than Mother and Father. “Did you get my text?”