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I shook my head in embarrassment. “I was trying to tell you I had something stuck in my teeth. It wasn’t you.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me with words?” Grace said.
I shrugged. “Then you would see what was stuck in my teeth.”
“There’s nothing wrong with using a toothpick, you know,” she said. “Unless that goes against your proper royal protocol.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What is it with you and your obsession with royal protocol? Don’t tell me—you learned it all from films and television?”
“Correct,” Grace said. “I don’t often meet princes for dinner.”
“Well then, you are really missing out,” I joked. “And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but royal life is much different from how they portray it on the big screen. Especially my royal life. You’ll see. When you’re in Verdana.”
“If I’m in Verdana,” Grace said. “I haven’t said yes yet.”
That was true, but I was quite certain she would say yes to my job offer and accompany me back to Verdana.
Grace dabbed the side of her mouth, then looked over. “Tell me about your bride-to-be.”
I supposed I needed to convince Grace I was head-over-heels in love, which would not be easy.
“Veronica is . . . quite lovely,” I began unconvincingly.
Grace gave me a look that was difficult to decipher. “Lovely? If I were your fiancée and that was all you said about me, I would break off the engagement. Try again. What do you love most about her?”
“Ah! Right . . .” I drummed my fingers on the table, quickly concocting a list of admirable qualities. “She’s poised, elegant, well-educated, patient, and kind.” I nodded, satisfied with myself.
“Uh-huh,” Grace said, clearly not buying it. She pulled a notepad and pen from her bag. “How did you know she was the one?”
I froze with a forkful of mac and cheese halfway to my mouth. “Oh, well, you know, it just felt right.”
Grace tilted her head. “Forgive me, but you don’t seem over the moon. Most of the grooms I have met couldn’t stop gushing about their brides, but you seem to be more excited about the fried catfish. What’s going on with you? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
I found it fascinating that she could pry into someone’s private life without knowing an ounce about the person. Maybe this was all part of the getting-to-know-you, allowing her to customize the wedding based on our likes and dislikes. Still, I thought it was best to tell her the truth. At least, about one part.
Sadie returned and pointed to the table. “Looks like you made quite a dent in the food. I’m impressed.”
“Everything is absolutely fabulous,” I said.
Sadie smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.” She turned to Grace. “And you are one lucky girl, the way he’s spoiling you like a princess.”
You have no idea.
“Not bad for a first date,” Sadie added.
“Oh—this is not a date,” Grace corrected.
Sadie nodded. “That’s right—these days, people say they’re grabbing a bite and hanging out.” She winked at me, but before I could respond, she said, “I’m guessing you will not have room for our world-famous peach cobbler.”
“Nonsense—we have to try it,” I said.
“You got it,” Sadie said. “And I will bring you some boxes to take the leftovers with you.”
After she walked away, I sat down my fork and leaned forward. “Where were we?” I snapped my fingers. “That’s right. You asked me if I had cold feet regarding the marriage. Can I be frank with you?”
“Of course,” Grace replied.
“I mislead you,” I said. “This is an arranged marriage orchestrated by my mother, Queen Annabelle, and Princess Veronica’s parents. This wedding is my duty. Our duty.”
