Queen
Rasmus nods, and leans forward to kiss me, as if that would hide the tears that are threatening to fall.
“Perfect” he mutters. Then, as we look down at Flavian, who’s watching us carefully
“Gregers”
“Huh?”
“Flavian Lars Gregers Lyksborg.”
“Do you know a Gregers?” I ask, confused.
“No. But it means ‘alert; watchful’ and look at him.”
I smile.
The door creaks open slowly, just a touch.
“Orianna Lisette Sofie Lyksborg!” hisses from the other side. “What have you been told about knocking before entering?”