Tripple, Ashbury, and Hepplewhit crowded behind them. Logan was the first to reach the balustrade and look down. “Now what is he doing?”

Left to himself in the ballroom, Bigelow smiled. “Working the crowd,” he murmured. “Working the crowd. You know,” he told a waiter, “I believe I’ll have a mug of that cider myself.”

*

Winslow hurriedly followed Kevin into the garden. The Prince of Rassendas was already surrounded, almost lost to sight in the press of people. Winslow noted with appreciation that they had cleaned up and were wearing their best clothes—apparently entering the Royal Gardens counted as a special occasion. Kevin was wading through the crowd, slapping the backs of the men, squeezing the hands of the women, patting the heads of the children. Thankfully, no one actually gave him a baby to kiss, although Winslow was sure the Prince would kiss one if he had to.

It was something he had learned from his father. Winslow had been there to hear it once. The King of Rassendas had been in his dressing room. “No monarch can rule effectively without the respect of the people,” he told the young prince. “Nor can the Lords. You can’t lead them against their will. Get support from the bottom, and the Lords will go with the crowd.”

Kevin nodded. King Eric had gone back to trying on black turtleneck sweaters. “How do you think these look with my shades?”

It was clear that the Prince was following this strategy now, garnering support from the bottom up. And it seemed to be working. Everyone the Prince touched left with a smile. “He seems a right good sort,” one florid-faced man told Winslow. “I think he’d make a fine husband for our princess.”

“Yes, I think so, too,” the valet replied. He pushed his way toward the Prince, finally getting close enough to hear Kevin speak with a man in a rough leather jacket.

“Came all this way to see a prince,” the man was saying. “I told her not to expect too much, but she insisted. I thought you’d be up on the balcony. I told her we’d just be waving to you from a distance. Now here you are, and she won’t say a word.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come on now, Emma darling. Don’t be rude. Come out and say hello to His Highness.”

Hiding behind the man’s leg was a small girl.