“Even if I went back to the Hollow,” I said softly, “nothing would ever be the same.”

It was no answer, but Marc did not press me further and the sounds of the city returned to my ears. “You’re meant to be having tea with Duchesse Sylvie this afternoon, are you not?”

I nodded. “She is teaching me to play Guerre.”

“She will teach you well,” he said. Rising to his feet, he reached down a hand to help me up. “Get out of the water, you oafs,” he shouted at the twins. They waded out, heedless of their dripping clothes.

“Who won?” I asked, taking Marc’s arm.

The twins exchanged frowns. “You mean you weren’t counting the fish?”

I winced. “Sorry.”

They both heaved deafening sighs. “Poor form, Your Highness, poor form,” Victoria said, giving my shoulder a gentle shove. “I think we can attribute your failure to a distinct lack of focus.”

“I second that,” her brother announced, the two coming around to walk on either side of Marc and me. “Too many hours spent in too many lessons on too many subjects.”

I grinned, because it was true. The trolls knew so much about so many things, both past and present. Every day I spent with someone new, trying my hand at their trades, learning new languages, or listening to them lecture about some historical event. All my instructors were kind and eager to exchange their knowledge for what I could tell them of the outside world.

“We may have to crown you champion of knowing the least about the greatest number of topics,” Victoria said. “Well done.”

I dropped into a deep curtsey. “It is an honor and a privilege.”

The four of us meandered up the stairs, my guards keeping their distance for fear of becoming victim of one of the twins’ pranks. In truth, I hardly noticed them anymore. They never spoke to me, only followed me everywhere I went. But I did not like how they listened to all my conversations, and so I encouraged any sort of behavior that caused them to keep their distance. Marc and the twins were far more powerful and capable anyway, and I didn’t worry about them blabbing my words to the King.

“Lady Victoria! Lord Vincent!” We all looked over our shoulders to see a young troll woman wearing a bright red dress running up the stairs after us.

“Drat,” Victoria muttered, exchanging a worried look with her brother. “It’s her again.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“A sculptor we commissioned a while back.”

The woman slid to a stop in front of us, bobbed a quick curtsey at Marc and me, then turned a chastising finger on the twins. “When are you going to arrange to pick up your sculptures? And more importantly, when do you intend to pay for them?”

“Done so soon?” Vincent asked, stepping between the sculptor and his sister. “Are you certain they are properly finished?”

The woman glared at them. “You question me?”