The Heir. Кира Касс

leaned in, not understanding, and somehow hoping a closer proximity would clear up his accent. “Excuse me?”

      The boy behind him spoke up. “He says it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

      I squinted, still confused.

      “My name ees Henri.” He bowed in greeting, and I could see in his face that he meant to do this earlier and forgot.

      I didn’t want to be rude, so I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Hello, Henri.”

      He lit up at the sound of his name, and he stood there, looking back and forth between the gentleman behind him and me.

      “I can’t help but notice your accent,” I remarked in what I hoped was a friendly tone. “Where do you come from?”

      “Umm, Swend—?” he began, but turned to the guest with him.

      He nodded, carrying on in Henri’s place. “Sir Henri was born in Swendway, so he has a very strong Finnish accent.”

      “Oh,” I replied. “And does he speak much English?”

      Henri piped up. “English, no, no.” He didn’t seem embarrassed though. Instead he laughed it off.

      “How are we supposed to get to know each other?”

      The translator turned to Henri. “Miten saat tuntemaan toisensa?”

      Henri pointed to the translator, who answered, “Through me, it seems.”

      “Okay. Well. Umm.” I wasn’t prepared for this. Was it rude for me to dismiss him? Interacting with these people one-on-one was going to be awkward enough. I wasn’t prepared for a third person.

      In that instant Henri’s application popped back into my mind. That was why some of the words were spelled wrong. He was guessing at them.

      “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, too, Henri.”