“It’s been fifteen years, but it still feels fresh, somehow?” she confessed. “At first I stayed close to home because I felt safer, but the longer that went on, the bigger a deal it became whenever I did go out, and that made me anxious as well. I couldn’t face your wedding, but Mother convinced me this would be a lower-profile way to test the waters.”

“I’m glad she did,” I said, pointing out the window. “Otherwise, you’d have missed getting to trot past this cute local bistro called McDonald’s.”

Daphne laughed lightly. “I hope it works. I do not want to be stuck in The Hague forever,” she said. “My mother is the most outgoing person in all of Europe, I think. It’s hard to live up to that even for a normal person. I know she frets about how I’ve become, and I am terribly worried that I disappoint her, so I agreed to try. But I’ve been so nervous.” She shot me a grateful look. “Less so now.”

“We’re in this together,” I said. “And don’t stress. Between your guys and all our PPOs, we’re in good hands here. You and I are gonna nail this.”

I held out my fist, and she paused for a second before bumping it, awkwardly, as if it were the first time she’d done that.

“We are going to be friends, I hope,” she said.

“Too late. We already are,” I said. “The last time I made a new friend was in college. I’m glad to have you.”

The rest of the morning was a well-choreographed blur. Daphne and I were near the end of the procession, so photographs were already underway when we arrived. Richard, in a gray suit with a dapper tie and pocket square, stood with Hax on one side—as fair as Richard was dark, and a head shorter—and Nick and Freddie on the other in their usual dueling blues. Nick had a stripe in his tie that coordinated with my deep berry coatdress and shoes, painstakingly crafted by the team at Alexander McQueen. We certainly looked the part, if nothing else.

“How did it go?” I whispered when I caught up to him.

“Quite well,” he said. “The king told Richard I was very well informed during the inspection.” His lips twitched. “Freddie didn’t get a word in, for once.”

“It’s not a contest,” I said through a smile.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it,” was his response.