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“I see.” He studied me for a moment, then turned his attention to Damaris. “And you want to do this, punkin?”
“I really do, Daddy.”
“Well, alrighty then. Guess we best get moving on our plans.”
Eliza bounded into my suite before dawn and shook me awake. My head muzzy from a night of poor sleep without my princess, I glared at her.
“Get up, Your Highness!” Her voice rang as a servant followed her with a coffee service and a basket of pastries.
“I’m awake. Leave so I can get dressed.”
She turned her back and said, “No time for that. You’re scheduled to meet with the social secretary in twenty minutes to discuss the press release. After that, you and Ms. Lawton will meet with the archbishop for lunch. He’s already agreed to perform the wedding on the Saturday before your birthday. I’ve booked your afternoon appointments with?—”
“Eliza, out. You can talk to me after I’m wearing pants, and definitely after coffee.”
She tipped her nose in the air and sniffed. “Very well, Your Highness. Don’t dally. We’re on a tight schedule.”
Sighing, I trudged into the ensuite and hurried through a shower, still wishing Damaris was with me. Sadly, although she’d been moved to a suite befitting her position, we wouldn’t be permitted to share a bed until after the wedding.
It was going to be a very long, interminable wait.
CHAPTER 12
DAMARIS
“Drop your shoulders a touch and lift your chin, please.”
I did as the artist asked, grimacing under the weight of over two pounds of gold and precious stones perched on my head.
Worse, I was absolutely sweltering under the mink-lined velvet robe that buttoned up to my chin. It would have been perfect for January at the North Pole—or anywhere else with permafrost—which, I supposed, was what it was designed for.
Heck, it didn’t have buttons. It had silk loops painstakingly wrapped around carved ivory toggles, meaning it took my maid almost twenty minutes to get me into the danged thing.
“Now I know why Shakespeare said uneasy is the head that wears a crown,” I muttered to myself.
“Princess Valeriya said much the same thing,” the painter replied. “Prince Grygori reminded her she only had to wear it for her formal portrait and her coronation.”
I laughed, making him return my smile. “You did say this would be our last sitting, right?”
“Yes. I have sufficient photos to finish the final details and will have it ready for installation before the wedding.”
“Thank goodness.”
“That is also what Princess Valeriya said.” He dropped his brush in a jar of paint thinner, then turned the canvas. “What do you think?”
“Oh, wow.” I finally understood why he insisted on painting me in early morning sunlight. All the days of getting up at three in the danged morning were worth it. The diffuse illumination made me look like a fairy princess and blended my freckles into a faint peach blush. My hair under the crown shimmered like platinum. “Is that really me?”
“That is what the brush sees, Ms. Lawton. I simply let it capture you.”
“May I, my lady?” My newly assigned maid, Francine, gestured at my crown.
“Please and thank you.” I crouched to let her take it off, then added, “And call me Damaris like you used to.”
“But you’re a princess now.” She unfastened the first toggle at my throat and grinned impishly, her blue eyes sparkling. “Besides, it annoys you. I can’t wait to practice my curtsy and call you Your Highness.”
“Brat.” I sighed with relief as she released another toggle. “I’m never going to get used to it.”
“I’m sorry I teased you.”
