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“Really?” I said, glancing back at her. “Why on earth would she do that?”
I couldn’t hide my surprise, especially considering how strapped she was for cash. It made little sense since I had been clear that I would pay for all of her expenses while she was here.
Grace clapped her hands together, gathering the children’s attention. “Okay, I have an exciting idea I want to run by you all. As you know, there’s a big charity gala coming up to raise money for the hospital this weekend. How would you all feel about being part of the event? We could have some of you share your talents. Maybe you can play a musical instrument, or can sing or dance. I think it would mean a lot to the guests to see and hear directly from you all. You’re amazing, and I’m sure every one of you has some form of talent! Let it shine! What do you think?”
The children cheered, their faces lighting up.
“Great!” Grace said. “Then we are going to do it! If you want to take part, raise your hand and say yes!”
Every single hand flew into the air as they all shouted, “Yes! Yes!”
“The queen’s worst nightmare has just unfolded right before our eyes, Your Highness,” Dante muttered.
“It has,” I said. “Although, to her credit, I think what Grace is proposing is an absolutely brilliant idea. It will inspire people to donate more once they see what these kids can do. I would have never come up with such an idea.”
The fundraiser was an adult event, aimed at spoiling the wealthiest citizens of Verdana with dinner and drinks and entertainment, hopefully in exchange for their generous donations. Since Hotel Verdana was directly next door, the logistics could not be any easier to add Grace’s idea of including the children in a small part. Why should the adults have all the fun? These kids were going through so much with their health issues, it made sense to give them a chance to let loose and be seen.
A young boy spoke up shyly. “I can show my drawings.”
A cute girl with pigtails chimed in, wavering her hands frantically to get Grace’s attention. “Ooh, and I can sing!”
“I can play the flute!” a boy said.
Grace beamed. “Amazing! This is going to be so much fun. We’ll make it a true celebration for you kids.”
“Can I wear a dress?” a little girl asked. “I’m a ballerina!”
“I don’t see why not,” Grace answered. “I think I’ll wear a dress, too! Now, do you have any other ideas for what you’d like to see at the gala? Things that would make it more fun for you?”
The kids shouted out suggestions—face painting, juggling, balloon animals, and of course, lots of snacks. Grace jotted down their ideas, promising they’d make it the best party ever. She made each child feel included, listening thoughtfully, even when they spoke over each other in their excitement.
I had visited this section of the children’s hospital more than a few times over the years and I can honestly say I had never seen so many smiles on their faces before. For a few moments, they seemed to have forgotten why they were in the hospital. The innocence and joy of these children was infectious. I couldn’t help smiling as well.
Grace glanced over in my direction, a smile forming on her face when she saw me. “Hey, Prince Oliver is here! Would you like him to join us?” She waved us over to the group.
“Yes!” the kids all screamed.
“So much for being discreet,” I said, entering the room with Dante right by my side. “Why, hello everyone! There seems to be a cookie party going on here!”
A young girl approached me and tugged on my sport coat. “Do you have a special talent, Prince Oliver? Besides being a prince?”
I chuckled. “I have two. For starters, most people don’t know that I paint.”
“Really?” Grace said, tilting her head to the side.
I turned to her. “Does that seem surprising to you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose it does. I’ve never heard of a prince who paints, that’s all.”
“Do you paint with your fingers?” a boy innocently asked.
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I use good, old-fashioned paint brushes, like most people.”
“Do you paint houses like my uncle?” another boy asked.
I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how to do that. I like to paint portraits of people. And sunrises over the Mediterranean.”
“Doesn’t that get boring?” a boy asked.
