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“Probably not,” the page answered. “But it rhymes with wilthy witch.”
I pressed my lips to keep from fully snickering—though the humor wasn’t such a hit with Crista. “Now I need to fit this project into the day somehow.” She sent a baleful stare at the pile of papers still clutched against her chest. Ambyr had left her with no other choice about preventing the sheaf from spilling everywhere. No way could I let her continue to struggle, so I grabbed about half the load and slid it onto her desk. “Merderim,” she murmured, dropping back into her chair.
I directed a sympathetic smile down at her. “Likely none of my business, but what is all this?” Besides the dream wedding scrapbook of an eight-year-old.
The secretary looked ready to laugh. Then cry. “Is it not obvious?” Swept a hand at the haphazard pile. “Miss Stratiss’s approach for the royal wedding day.”
“Approach?” The page, lowering into a U-shaped chair, thrusted a pout. “You mean her royal party wet dream?”
Crista snickered.
I couldn’t get over the feeling of being throat punched.
“I don’t understand,” I stammered. “Is she another bidder on the event?” And if so, why hadn’t Ez and I been filled in, after being told the selection had been narrowed to two companies? We’d suspected the news about Love’s First Kiss—if we were in a toe-to-toe bidding war, it was usually with them—but Ambyr and her art fair project were an unexpected twist.
“Miss Fava, désonnum. My deepest apologies.” Crista held up one of Ambyr’s pages. Was that actually a piece of colored construction paper? “This is not Miss Stratiss’s ‘bid’ on the wedding.” As she plopped the paper down, her forehead furrowed. “It is…”
“Her treatise for true love?” the page prompted.
“Her manifesto for matrimony?” Crista giggled at her own take on the theme.
“Her swag of sensuality?”
“Her…foof before the fucking?”
They both slammed hands to their mouths like mortified nuns.
“Hey, it’s all right.” I kicked up one side of my mouth. “If you can’t say it you can’t do it, right?” I made a ta-da with my hands, freezing the smile until they recognized the line. Come on, everyone knew Risky Business. Annnd maybe not. It was probably a blessing in disguise, especially because I still wasn’t set straight about Ambyr’s…what? Creative arts display? Wanna-be coffee table book? Helpful suggestions?
“So what the heck is all this?” I picked up another page, and was immediately sorry for it. Dying doves bright pink for the conclusion of the ceremony? An eight-course reception dinner on Plexiglass platforms over the ocean, lighted in the same hue? “Is Ambyr a local vendor?”
Of course. That had to be it. Ambyr owned local supply stores and was hoping for a big score once the overall coordination bid was awarded to Expectation (because I refused to think any differently), In that case, bitch on wheels or not, I was glad the woman had stopped by. Local suppliers would be our saviors for this. I’d just have to talk her out of the pink birds idea…
“No.” Crista answered my question with a tight, careful expression. “Miss Stratiss is not a vendor.”
Dammit.
I managed to keep that one silent. Barely.
“This is Ambyr’s version of a few…guidelines,” she followed up.
“Guidelines?”
“Yes. For either you or the representative from Love’s True Kiss.”
“Why?”
A skirmish flickered across the woman’s features. Clearly, she wasn’t sure how much to reveal to me—if anything at all. I kept my own expression neutral and friendly—and, hopefully, trustworthy.
Crista leaned forward. A very good sign. Finally, she murmured, “The queen mother and king father, Xaria and Ardent, have voiced their desire that the wedding be a triple ceremony.”
“A triple…” I probably looked as knocked-for-six as I felt. A swift recovery was helped by the thousand details lining up in my head.
After two hundred years of self-separation from the modern world, Arcadia was still struggling for a place on the international stage.
The Cimarrons’ ability to get there had been hit hard lately, courtesy of a sadistic terrorist named Rune Kavill. Princess Brooke had been kidnapped. The Grand Sancti Bridge had been blown in half.
Weddings injected joy into a kingdom and stability into a global image.
