AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good point,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean it is good for either of us in the long run. We should be free to choose our own lifelong partners.”
Mount Verdana had erupted a little over a year ago, blanketing our country’s fertile farmlands on the west side of the island in volcanic debris, and rendering them useless. Luckily, there are still many beautiful parts of the country, but since then, the kingdom had temporarily relied on Veronica’s country for over seventy percent of essential food imports like wheat and rice. Mother believed our marriage was critical to cement an alliance that would ensure vital grain shipments continued to sustain Verdana for decades to come.
“If anyone can solve the problem, it’s Veronica,” I said, hoping she would put to good use her master of science in agriculture from the University of Copenhagen. “One step at a time. We need to focus on getting out of the wedding first.”
“And how do you expect us to do that?” Veronica asked.
“We’ll leave that to Miss DuPont,” I said, hoping the royal wedding planner would understand the bind we were in and help us. “Send her a text and tell her we need to meet at once. Miss DuPont owes me a favor or two—she won’t let me down.”
Dante nodded, pulled out his phone, and tapped. “Done.”
“Do you really think Miss DuPont would go against the queen’s wishes?” Veronica asked doubtfully.
“Technically, she won’t have to if there are a couple of unexplained mishaps,” I replied confidently. “Besides, she will understand that my happiness is on the line. Trust me, once Miss DuPont makes things magically fall apart, this arranged marriage will be history.”
“She’s just outside in the courtyard. She’s on her way,” Dante informed me, glancing at his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.
A minute later, there was a polite knock on the door, and in walked Miss DuPont.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness, Princess Veronica.” She greeted us with a curtsy, then gave a nod to Dante. Her eyes flicked between Veronica and me, as if sensing the urgency in our expressions. “You wished to see me?”
“Miss DuPont, we have a . . . delicate matter to discuss with you,” I began cautiously, glancing at Veronica for support. “Please, have a seat.” I gestured to the leather chair opposite Veronica.
As I settled into the other chair, she leaned forward with an air of professionalism, pulling out her pen and notepad. “How may I be of service?”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to propose. “I need your help in sabotaging our wedding.”
Miss DuPont’s eyes widened in shock, her pen slipping from her fingers and clattering onto the floor. “Your Highness, I . . . I don’t understand.”
“We cannot go through with this arranged marriage,” I said. “It goes against everything we believe in. I need you to make it impossible for the wedding to proceed.”
“Prince Oliver . . .” Miss DuPont reached down to pick up her pen from the floor, then hesitated before answering, clearly weighing her options. “While I empathize with your predicament, I’m afraid I cannot assist you in this endeavor. My reputation and livelihood depend on my ability to plan and execute flawless events for the royal family, as well as for the fine people of our country. To do as you ask would be tantamount to professional suicide.”
“Miss DuPont, please,” I implored, noting the desperation seeping into my voice. “You understand that I am not asking this lightly. I am trapped, we are trapped.” I gestured to Veronica, then back to myself. “You’re the only person who can help us. Nobody will know you are behind the problems, and you would be compensated generously for your work.”
“Your Highness,” she replied, her tone firm, “I’m sorry for the position you find yourself in, but my duty is to the Crown and to the successful execution of this wedding. I cannot, in good conscience, take part in any form of sabotage. Besides, nobody would ever believe that I made a mistake.”
Even under the dire circumstances, that made me smile. “Once a perfectionist, always a perfectionist.”
“It’s a curse I have to live with,” Miss DuPont said with a slight smile. “I guess it would have made your life easier if I were a disaster like that American wedding planner who went viral.”
I hesitated, confused. “I’m sorry—I don’t understand.”
“Grace . . . her last name escapes me at the moment,” Miss DuPont said. “She has become rather infamous for her calamitous events.”
“How so?” Dante asked.
Miss DuPont slid to the edge of her chair. “This woman has the opposite of the Midas Touch. Everything she touches turns into a calamity. She plans high-profile weddings in Beverly Hills. Well, she used to. Word is, her phone stopped ringing after several videos went viral, then some tabloid labeled her as the worst wedding planner on the planet. The poor thing.”
“I found her—her name is Grace Fullerton,” Dante said, his eyes glued to his phone. “Wow.”
“What is it?” Veronica asked, peeking over Dante’s shoulder.
Dante winced, then winced again. “One of her wedding cakes collapsed, then there’s another video of wedding guests running right past her in the pouring rain.”
“Let me see,” I said, then shook my head. “They’re blaming the rain on the wedding planner? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“Apparently, there was no back-up plan in case of inclement weather,” Miss DuPont pointed out. “That would be on the wedding planner for not suggesting it or having a back-up plan.”
