All the teams put the finishing touches on their cakes, topping them with whipped cream and carefully moving each one into an industrial-size cooler. Bjorn disappeared for a moment and returned a minute later, frowning.
“Captain Lind has requested the prettiest cakes for tomorrow’s election dinner,” he said. “I, uh, forgot to factor in that I wouldn’t be able to taste any of the cakes. So based on watching you work and overall presentation, I am pleased to declare the winners Miss Asta Madsen and Leonie Kolburg’s team! See me to coordinate your digi-deck time.”
Asta whooped with delight, and we all high-fived.
“The election dinner’s going to be a terrible bore, so we should go to the digi-deck during that,” Asta suggested.
“Actually, I’ve been invited to that dinner and I was going to ask Leo to go with me,” Daniel said, turning to me. “If you want to go? We can suffer together for a few hours and then mercilessly mock the whole thing with after-dinner drinks. On me, of course.”
“I don’t know if I can take a six-course meal centered around my aunt giving speeches,” I joked. “But I couldn’t leave you to the wolves like that. Also, I loathe skiing, so it’s best Asta and Evgenia go to the digi-deck on their own.” It was a gesture of renewed friendship now that I was in a position to help out Evgenia romantically. Both she and Asta appeared relieved.
Daniel broke into a grin. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
Twenty-Three
Daniel arrived the following evening at six and spent the extra half-hour buttering up my father with a lively conversation about the theater, about which my father pretended to be an expert. Then at precisely six thirty, Daniel made our excuses and we headed out.
The ballroom was littered with familiar faces, making all the more egregious the fact that I’d not been invited. I recognized nearly everyone participating in the Valg, plus many Scandinavian residents I’d grown up with. I harrumphed under my breath as Daniel led me through a clutch of people.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a drink,” Daniel said, mistaking the source of my grumbling, but I was grateful for the offer nonetheless. Especially as I spotted Elliot across the room. A shot of ice clutched my heart, but I breathed through my panic, inhaling and exhaling purposefully. This was bound to happen eventually. I had to keep my cool. So I pretended I hadn’t seen him at all. The picture of maturity.
We moved over to the check-in table to retrieve our name tags. There wasn’t one for me, so I had to make one. I felt so welcome. My aunt clapped eyes on us and really drove home the point with her greeting.
“Leonie, what are you doing here? I didn’t think you cared for politics.”
“I’m here with Daniel Turan. My date.”
He bowed graciously. “A pleasure as always, Captain.” Then he kissed the back of her hand. My aunt’s lips curled into a smile that almost seemed genuine. Daniel could charm the dead.
She turned her attention back to me. “Look at you, actually making an effort with a boy. Well, a new one.”
I could have killed her as she topped off her leading statement with a very pointed glance over at Elliot, who was fifteen feet to her left and currently chatting with Klara. This time, he didn’t miss my gaze, which followed my aunt’s on instinct. Elliot offered me an awkward wave. I ignored it.
“We should find our seats,” Daniel said, linking our arms and already starting to pull me away. “Good luck with your speeches.”
Seating wasn’t assigned, thankfully, as, knowing my aunt, she’d have been cruel and sat me next to Elliot for good measure. Three long tables with chairs and settings limited to one side were arranged in neat rows. Everyone was to face forward so we could not just listen to but also watch my aunt as she performed. We found a pair of seats at the farthest table at the back, next to Theo Madsen. At least now Daniel would have someone else to talk to. He couldn’t have missed my aunt pointing out my ex, and I was sure my pink cheeks had betrayed my feelings on the matter. Surely, after that, Daniel’s interest in me was shot.
Before we sat down, Daniel grabbed two puff pastries from a passing tray and handed me one.
“For the girl with the viper of an aunt, and a poncy-looking ex.” We pretended our hors d’oeuvres were glasses and clinked them together. I devoured mine in one bite.
And with that, I was struck with the overwhelming sense that I would be an idiot not to marry Daniel. He was exactly what I needed—fun, light, honest, and kind. His wealth was a bonus—the only thing that mattered to my dad, of course—and his business was a legitimate one. Daniel even pulled out my chair for me.
The realization settled in the pit of my stomach like an anvil, the reality and heft of our courtship suddenly real in a way our last few dates hadn’t quite driven home. Could I really do it?
There was little time to dwell on such questions as my aunt rose to the stage and started her pontificating. We were to enjoy four courses, not the usual six, happily, but the catch was that, after a speech made to the assembly while we ate our salads, the captain would be joining each of our tables for the subsequent courses so she could answer our questions one-on-one.
I powered through my pea soup with such speed that I ran out of food with which to busy myself, leaving me to actually listen to my aunt’s speech. She was just getting to the good part, it seemed.
“We are entering an age of scarcity,” she she starkly. “Of the haves and the have-nots. Where our future and our prosperity are determined by archaic concepts such as usefulness,” she spat the word like it was dirty, and a grumble moved through the crowd.
“The bigwigs on the Olympus talk a big game, but we all know where they spend their vacations. Usefulness is relative.” Her tone turned sickly sweet with the jibe, and several people knocked their glasses against the tables to show their approval.
“But listen . . . I am a practical woman. Of course I am. I’m Swedish.”
The Danes, Finns, and Norwegians hissed through their teeth, but the captain knew what she was doing. She waited a beat and then continued. “But we are all cut from the same cloth, we Scandinavians. Resilient, resourceful. And so it is my promise that while I will fight tooth and nail against these ridiculous measures that would compromise our way of life, I can also assure you that I have other things up my sleeve. Elect Lind once again, as you have these past twenty years, and I will protect this ship at all costs.”
I marveled as people began to cheer and clap and whoop, apparently truly moved by my aunt’s bullshit. With no competition, she could say whatever she pleased, make any promises she wanted. I reached across the table for a bread roll, which I buttered heavily and shoved into my mouth. If I was chewing, I wouldn’t turn to Daniel and mutter about how ridiculous this all was.
But the public speech was over, and the captain spent the appetizer and main courses with the two tables in front of us. We were spared an entire evening of political chatter, though my table didn’t make it easy. Theo and Daniel did indeed hit it off. Talk turned to visas and population control, and never was I more grateful for having rejected Theo. He toed a hard line on both subjects, displaying an appalling lack of empathy for his fellow human beings that unfortunately I suspected my aunt would agree with. But Daniel held his own, smiling while he debated as if they were engaged in friendly banter, even though he repeatedly eviscerated Theo with compassionate but well-reasoned arguments. At least I felt Daniel won the day.