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I blinked, then glanced down at the dog again, thinking.
Pembroke Welsh Corgi.
The same breed as the queen’s dog that passed away.
At that moment, a brilliant idea struck me . . .
I needed to adopt this dog for Queen Annabelle.
She was obviously grieving from the loss of her husband, then from her beloved pet. This would surely make her feel better, and it might even get me on her good side, melting her icy heart or at least warming it up a little. She at least would appreciate the peace gesture, I would think.
“I would like to adopt this little guy,” I said to the woman as I cradled the puppy protectively.
She beamed, her eyes shining with happiness. “That's wonderful! I’ll just need you to fill out some paperwork, and then he’s all yours.”
With a newfound sense of purpose, I signed the adoption papers, imagining the look on Queen Annabelle’s face when I presented her with this precious gift. Surely, she couldn’t resist such a heartwarming gesture, even if it came from the person she seemed to hate the most in the world.
The woman double-checked the paperwork, then glanced up at me, looking quite confused. “Your address is at the royal palace?”
I nodded. “Yes, I’m the royal wedding planner, and this dog is for Queen Annabelle. Is that a problem?”
Her eyes lit up. “Not at all! It is a great honor, indeed.”
I paid the adoption fee and also bought a crate carrier, food, and bowls for food and water. I had also planned on paying for treats, pee pads, toys, and a leash and collar, but the kind woman insisted on throwing them in for free, since it was for the queen. I could always come back if I forgot something or wanted to get a name tag after the queen chose a name for her dog.
“Best of luck,” she called out as I stepped into the sunlight with the carrier and the big bag of dog supplies, already picturing the joy and laughter that this dog would surely bring to the palace. Some members of the royal family could benefit from smiling more.
As I crossed the street with a bounce in my step, Marco jumped out of the SUV when he spotted me, his gaze dropping to the carrier with raised eyebrows. Then his jaw dropped.
“Is that . . . a dog?” he asked.
“Yep! I’m going to give it to the queen as a gift,” I replied confidently, then held the carrier closer. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Marco’s face went pale.
“Why do you look like you’re going to pass out, Marco?” I asked. “She’s going to love it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he warned, his eyes wide with concern. “The queen has not permitted dogs on the property since she lost her beloved Ruby. She was very adamant about it. Disobeying direct orders from the queen is never advised, and could have dire consequences.”
“Trust me,” I insisted. “Once she lays eyes on this little guy, she’ll be smitten. Plus, I didn’t get those direct orders, so this is on me.”
Marco hesitated for a moment before sighing and opening the door for me. “I had nothing to do with this.”
“You did not.” I laughed. “I will make sure the queen knows. Don’t worry.”
Back in the palace, every single employee greeted me with wide eyes and they whispered as I passed them in the halls, their gazes on the dog carrier.
I snuck quietly, not wanting the Queen to see the dog before the big reveal during her teatime. I entered my room, quickly setting the carrier down and opening it up so the dog could stretch. He immediately ran to me, as if he were asking for some love.
Scratching him on the head, I said, “You are so darn cute. You’re going to love your new home. I hope she’ll give you a name that matches your cuteness.”
I pulled the paw print-covered ceramic bowl from the bag, then poured some water from the bottle I had gotten at the sweets shop. Just in case, I laid out a couple of pee pads on the floor, so there were no accidents.
“Be right back—you be a good boy,” I told him, then closed the door behind me.
The plan was to find Oliver to share my surprise.
Instead, I ran into Henri, the head steward.
