For some reason I expected her to be colder, more aloof here. To act more like royalty and less like the bold, sassy girl who calls me out every chance she gets.

I relied on that assumption more than I realized. Because the Vivienne who’s giggling as she tugs me through yet another magnificent hallway, the same one who told me off in front of all my friends, who boldly snuck into my room in an outfit I still fantasize about, is not someone I expected to encounter. Or someone I can imagine saying goodbye to again.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when Viv yanks me to the right suddenly. A double set of elaborately carved wooden doors, twice as tall as me, stand before us, flanked on either side by two more men in tuxedos. They both bow as we approach.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” one of them greets Viv. She nods in acknowledgment as they pull the doors open to reveal a cavernous room.

The ceiling is arched, showcasing thousands of intricately carved patterns carefully sculpted into it. In its very center, a huge chandelier hangs over a polished wooden table that stretches the entire length of the extensive room. Every couple of feet a carved wooden chair lines the edge of the table, cushioned with cream-colored upholstery that’s embroidered with golden thread. One huge fireplace sits at each end of the room. Between them are glass-paned doors that overlook an impeccably maintained courtyard.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until I feel a squeeze on my hand.

I look over at Viv. She’s smiling at me reassuringly, but I also detect a hint of nervousness, as though she’s afraid I might flee from the grandiose space. I start walking again. Viv drops my hand as we approach one end of the lengthy table.

Belatedly, I realize her parents are already seated. Her father is at the very head, while her mother is in the chair to his right. Both have changed since I saw them earlier. The queen is now dressed in a pale pink dress, and the king is wearing a full suit. Vivienne’s mother studies Viv’s outfit closely as we approach, a strange expression on her face.

“Good evening,” the king greets as we approach. There are two place settings to his left, and I let out a small sigh of relief, glad I won’t have to face another etiquette dilemma regarding where to sit.

“Good evening,” I repeat, taking the seat farther away from him so Vivienne can sit next to her father.

The queen gives me a small smile as I sit down, then shifts her gaze to Viv. “Is that a new dress, Vivienne?” she inquires.

“Yes, it is, Mother,” Vivienne replies. “How kind of you to notice.” The words are polite, but there’s a clear undercurrent of challenge in them as well. I glance over at her.

“When did you get it?” the queen presses.

“Evelyn,” Vivienne’s father chastises quietly.

“A few days ago,” Vivienne replies firmly, holding her mother’s gaze.