A small ridiculous part of my brain still cannot get over the fact that this is my life now. Three months ago, I was a nanny eating leftover pastries at midnight in this man’s kitchen. And now I’m pregnant with his baby and we’re getting married. But hey, when you know, youknow. And soon after I met him, I knew that the Dark Prince was the man for me.
“Hold still, dear.” Madam Petrova has been fussing with my veil for ten minutes. She has been openly weeping with happiness for an hour. She has gone through what I’m pretty sure is her fourth handkerchief.
“Madam Petrova, you’re going to ruin your makeup before the ceremony.”
“I am not wearing makeup, dear.”
“Are you sure? You look very put together.”
“I am Krovenian. We do not require enhancement.”
I bite back a laugh, because she has just made a perfect Krovenian joke and she does not even know it.
There’s a soft knock at the door. “Are you decent?” Claire’s distintive voice calls out.
“Always,” I call back.
The door opens and my new friend sweeps in, already dressed in her queen’s gown, a stunning deep emerald green that makes her look devastating. Her hair is pinned up and her diamond tiara looks amazing. Baby Alexei has been left briefly with his nurse downstairs.
Claire stops in the doorway and her hand goes to her mouth. “Oh.”
“Is the dress okay?”
“Hazel.”
“Is the bump too obvious?”
“You look like a princess already. Stop.” She closes the door behind her and crosses the room in three quick strides, and sweeps me into the kind of hug that does not care about wrinkling either of our gowns.
In the last three months, Claire and I have become the kind of friends who text at two in the morning. She is the only person on this continent who understands what I am about to step into.
She pulls back and holds me at arm’s length and looks me up and down. “Okay. I came prepared.” She produces a small white box from somewhere.
“Claire—”
“Don’t argue with me. Sit.”
I sit on the small upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. She kneels in front of me in her queen’s gown like she does not care one bit about it. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I am not letting you forget anything today.” She opens the box. Inside is a pair of small antique pearl earrings, a folded square of pale blue silk and a brand-new pair of soft white slippers. “The earrings are from the Krovenian royal vault, on loan to you for this ceremony. That’s yoursomething oldand yoursomething borrowed.The blue silk is for your bouquet, tuck it in among the stems. That’s yoursomething blue.The slippers are for after the ceremony, when your feet are murdering you and those pretty heels become unbearable. That’s yoursomething newand you keep those. Trust me. By hour three of the reception, you will weep with gratitude.”
I am already crying.
“This is wonderful, Your Majesty,” Madam Petrova declares, taking the box from the Queen.
“Claire,” I whimper.
“Don’t start. We will both ruin our faces.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Now hold still, the earrings have screw backs.”
She puts the earrings on me herself. Her hands are warm and steady. Petrova tucks the blue silk into the small bunch of wildflowers just placed on the side table to be my bouquet. She sets the slippers under the bed where they will be waiting for me later.
“You ready for this, really?” Claire questions.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
