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Ingrid got the zipper unstuck with ease and zipped it up slowly to avoid another snag. Then, she stood back quickly and admired the Princess again.
“There,” she said.
“Thank you,” Elin replied, looking in the mirror, but at Ingrid.
“You look beautiful, Ma’am,” Ingrid said, giving her a shy smile.
Elin’s eyes went wide. Had Ingrid spoken out of turn?
“Apologies, Ma’am. I–”
“No, you don’t have to–” Elin stopped and turned around. “I mean, you can say… if you want to…” She shook her head rapidly back and forth. “Just… it’s fine.”
“You have a lunch meeting with the Prime Minister and his secretary. They should be here any minute. The King wanted me to tell you that your mother has retired to Skaugum Estate, so he will be dining with you and the Prime Minister without her today,” Ingrid revealed.
“Is she all right?” Elin asked.
“I believe, she wanted to begin the arrangements for them to eventually move there permanently. It’s been vacant for some time now.”
Elin nodded and said, “I should get changed, then. I don’t think I should have my first lunch with the Prime Minister as the woman who would be Queen in a ball gown.”
“Shall I have the dressers return, Ma’am?”
“Can you just unzip it for me?” Elin asked. “I can hang it back up all on my own.” She smirked at Ingrid.
And just like that, Ingrid had forgotten why she’d been so upset and annoyed with the Princess before she’d walked into the room. She unzipped the dress, took a step back, and quickly looked away.
“I’ll meet you outside, Ma’am. We can walk down together. I have the talking points the King wanted to make sure you address.”
“Of course, there are talking points,” Elin muttered, sliding one sleeve of the dress off and then the other.
Ingrid could see Elin’s bare shoulders now and knew it was time for her to go.
“Ma’am,” she said, dismissing herself.
???
“Hi. I’m home, and I brought dinner. I hope you didn’t eat because you wasted your money. This food ismyfood, and it’s free,” Sarah Anne bellowed when she walked through the door.
“I ate hours ago. It’s after eleven,” Ingrid told her sister.
“Well, I’m a chef. I have to be there to cook the food for the paying customers. You get the leftovers for free, so either wait until I get home to eat, or have them tomorrow,” she replied, dropping the bag onto their coffee table and then dropping herself onto their sofa.
Sarah Anne was technically Ingrid’s half-sister. She was three years younger than her and was the product of her mother’s marriage to Sarah Anne’s father after her divorce from Ingrid’s own father. Despite only being half-siblings and being a couple of years apart, the two got along so well, they’d decided to move in together when Sarah Anne got her first chef job at a restaurant close to Ingrid’s two-bedroom apartment. They’d taken their one and only vacation together to St. Rais years ago and had been incredibly close their whole lives.
“How was work?” Ingrid asked.
“Two people sent back their food. One claimed my chicken was dry. The other claimed the sauce was too sweet. The chicken was not dry, and the sauce was perfect,” Sarah Anne argued.
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Well, I brought you the chicken and the sauce in that bag there, so you can tell me,” she replied.
Ingrid had long ago gotten used to being her little sister’s guinea pig. Sarah Anne had always wanted to be a chef, and even though they’d hardly had any money growing up, their mother always made sure they had some extra food in order to let her sister experiment with culinary creations of her own. Some were good. Others were not so good, but Sarah Anne had put herself through culinary school and had worked her way up in a kitchen. Now, she was in charge, and even though she complained a lot, she loved her job.
“I’ll have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“I’m sure the royal chefs can cook you up something better.”
