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I got up to take a break and stretch, staring out the window of my room. The view was simply stunning, with the lush gardens spreading out as far as the eye could see, and the sparkling sea in the distance.
My thoughts drifted back to my confrontation with Queen Annabelle about the fundraiser. I had been incredibly nervous, but I had stood up for my idea about including the children. Yet, despite my fear, I had held my ground against the formidable queen, and I felt a swell of pride within me.
“I won’t be a pushover anymore,” I vowed to myself.
In all my years as a wedding planner, I had learned that when clients didn’t listen to me, problems were usually just around the corner. If I wanted to avoid another colossal failure, I needed to make sure Oliver and Veronica understood my expertise and followed my advice. And if I were even luckier, the queen would completely stay out of my way.
I sat back down and continued to sift through Miss DuPont’s files, realizing that there was a difference between our approaches. She clearly had a wealth of knowledge and experience for planning weddings, but she always leaned more toward the conservative side. I’m guessing this had something to do with tradition, more than a reflection of her personality, but I saw it as an opportunity to add my personal touch and create a wedding day that would be more unique, more magical, and unforgettable.
I sighed, taking a deep breath as I felt my determination solidify within me like a suit of armor. No more fear, no more second-guessing myself. It was time to show the world what Grace, the determined and passionate wedding planner, could do.
“Please pardon my interruption, Miss Grace,” Henri, the head steward, called from the doorway, his voice smooth and professional, “I trust your accommodations are satisfactory.”
“More than satisfactory—this place makes a five-star resort look like a pup tent in the outback,” I said, smiling. “It’s amazing. Thank you for asking.”
“It is our pleasure to make your stay as comfortable as possible,” he replied with a smile. “Please, follow me to the terrace. Prince Oliver, Princess Veronica, and Mrs. Masterson are waiting for you there to discuss the wedding.”
“Mrs. Masterson?” I said, not understanding who she was.
“Yes,” Henri answered, not giving me any more information.
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
I gathered my notes and my laptop, trying to suppress the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach since this would be our first official wedding planning meeting. As I followed Henri through the opulent halls of the palace, I mentally prepared myself for the upcoming discussion. I knew I had to present my ideas with confidence to gain their trust, and I couldn’t allow my past to hold me back.
As we stepped out onto the sun-drenched terrace, I took a moment to catch my breath.
“Ah, here she is!” Oliver’s voice boomed from his seat under the umbrella, dark hair tousled, and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Veronica looked poised and elegant in the chair next to him.
“Your Highnesses,” I said, curtsying awkwardly. I could feel my cheeks heating at the clumsy maneuver, but I pushed through my embarrassment and held up the files. “I’ve got lots of updates on the wedding.”
“I look forward to hearing about them,” Veronica said kindly.
“Grace—please allow me to introduce Georgina Masterson,” Oliver said, gesturing to the very pregnant woman with short brown hair in the dark green maternity dress. “Georgina will document our journey to the altar. She’s a journalist with the Royal Gazette who works with us often.”
I hesitated for a moment, then shook her hand.
Suddenly, flashes of past headlines swirled through my mind. I felt dizzy. “World’s Worst Wedding Planner” and “Grace the Disgrace” taunted me like ghosts from my past. My heart raced, and my palms grew clammy.
“A pleasure to meet you, Georgina,” I stuttered out, releasing her hand quickly and taking a step back.
“And you as well . . .” Her eyes narrowed slightly at my reaction, but she nodded and turned her attention back to her notebook.
“Excuse me, Prince Oliver,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “may I have a word with you in private?”
He studied me for a moment, then said, “Of course.” He gestured for me to follow him to a more secluded corner of the terrace.
As we walked, I clasped my hands together to hide their trembling, and I tried to steady my breath. Once we were out of earshot, I blurted out in a low voice, “You told me no more surprises. I didn’t know there would be a journalist documenting the wedding planning process. It makes me feel . . . exposed.”
Oliver regarded me thoughtfully before responding. “I see. You’re worried that Georgina might write something unfavorable about you, and you have already been through enough in the recent past.”
I hesitated, surprised he knew what I was thinking. “Yes . . .”
He nodded. “I understand your concerns, Grace. I really do. But having a journalist present is a long-standing tradition in Verdana. The people of our kingdom cherish our royal weddings and expect to have every moment documented for posterity and transparency. Georgina has proven herself as an objective and truthful journalist. I assure you that her job is to focus on the beauty and grandeur of the wedding. The Royal Gazette is not a tabloid.”
His words were comforting, and I felt some of my earlier tension melt away. Oliver truly had a way with words and an innate ability to put others at ease. I let out a sigh, feeling somewhat foolish for letting my fears get the best of me in public.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said, offering him a tiny smile. “I apologize for my reaction earlier. I just want everything to be perfect for you and Princess Veronica. I hope you know that.”
