Danni laughs, and I swirl to face her, then scoop her up into a hug. “Oh, my god,” she giggles as I spin her around. “You’re really happy.”

I start laughing again. Molly now no longer seems to suspect I’m having a breakdown. Rather, she seems to have grown quite sure of it. She looks to Danni for assistance, but Danni seems enraptured by me.

“Can you imagine if they let you stay?” she asks.

“They won’t,” says Molly.

“They might,” says Eleanor.

“But imagine,” Danni says. “Like, really think about it. Think of what it would mean for a place like Henland to have a lesbian for a queen. There are so many people in this country that would change everything for. No offense to your uncle, but he’s more of the same. Even if you were no good at the job, though, just having you there would make a hell of a statement. But you would be good. Even if you hardly have any power, and it’s only charities, and causes, and knighting the odd person or whatever, I want someone like you up there making those choices. Because you understand what it means to be on the outside over something you have no control over. There are people who need you, the way you are.”

I stare at her. Not because her words don’t make sense. But because it never occurred to me that any part of me would make me inherently more suited to being the monarch than my uncle. I’m so used to thinking of myself in terms of my flaws. Yet here she is, reframing my very existence as an inherent strength.

I didn’t think it was possible to love her more, but every day, every hour, she finds a way. Sometimes—miraculously—she even manages to make me like myself, too.

“Danni, is your mom still waiting for you in your room?” Eleanor asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Are you going to tell her about the two of you?”

Danni looks to me. “I … don’t know.”

I didn’t bring up my relationship with Danni to the reporters because I didn’t want to speak for her. Not without consulting her first, at the very least. After the week she’s had, it would not surprise me if she’s had enough of the spotlight to last her a lifetime.

“Do you want to?” I ask her.

She takes a step forward, eager and hopeful. “Wait, can I?”

I shake my head and shrug. “There’s no reason not to. We can tell anybody you want to tell.”

Danni is practically bouncing on her heels by the end of my sentence. “Okay. Perfect. Okay. I’m going to tell her.” She laughs at the sound of it. “I’ll talk to her alone for now. But come find us later, okay? I’d like you to meet her.”