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“She can be a bit . . . intimidating,” he said. “Just remember to address her as ‘Your Majesty’ and follow her lead, or anybody else’s, for etiquette at the dinner table. If you’re unsure about something, just watch what she does and mimic it. I’ll lead the conversation and you won’t have to speak much. Relax and try to enjoy the meal.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate the advice,” I said, my nerves tingling with anticipation.
“Call me Oliver in private,” he said. “In public or in the presence of my mother, call me Your Highness, or her left eye will twitch.”
I laughed, but then stopped when he wasn’t laughing with me. “Oh, you’re serious?”
Oliver nodded. “She’s a little too formal for my taste, but she is the Queen of Verdana, and the legacy of our kingdom flows within her veins.”
We approached two grand wooden doors, which the footmen opened into the dining hall. An enormous crystal chandelier hung over a long mahogany table set with fine china.
My stomach churned with both excitement and dread. Prince Theodore and Princess Adriana were already seated at the table. If I were to guess, I would say they both were most likely in their mid-twenties. They looked so incredibly regal and poised that I felt a surge of insecurity wash over me, but then I had to remind myself that Oliver was dressed in a more casual manner.
We said our hellos again, then took our seats when I noticed Prince Theodore was watching me like a hawk.
What was with him?
Was he the rebel child looking to cause problems?
Something told me I needed to watch out.
I forced a smile as I fidgeted with my napkin, trying not to appear as anxious as I felt. Then a beautiful blonde woman swept into the room. She had an air of dignity and sophistication about her.
This must be Princess Veronica.
“Grace!” she exclaimed, making me jump in my seat. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I replied nervously, sliding out of my seat to shake her hand, then wincing. “Whoops. I did it again.” I gave another clumsy curtsy.
“Please, call me Veronica, and there’s no need to be so formal,” she insisted, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.
“Thank you, Veronica,” I uttered, marveling at how comfortable she made me feel.
Oliver was one lucky man, even if it was an arranged marriage.
As for Prince Theodore, he appeared to have a chip on his shoulder because he was still glaring at me.
Veronica gracefully took her seat on the other side of the table next to Princess Adriana, and I wondered why she wouldn’t want to sit next to her fiancé.
As we took our seats again, I leaned closer to Oliver and whispered, “Where’s your mother? Sharpening her sword?”
“Relax,” he chuckled. “She hasn’t beheaded anyone in over a month.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Just breathe, Grace. You’re doing great.”
My hands played idly with the intricate silverware as I contemplated the complex rules of etiquette that accompanied these formal dinners.
I felt like a fish out of water.
Just as a servant appeared to pour wine, the double doors swept open. An elegant woman entered, clad in a midnight blue satin gown accented with intricate silver embroidery that glimmered under the lights. Her gaze immediately locked onto mine like a radar, and I froze.
Queen Annabelle.
I stood up hastily, nearly knocking over my chair, as everyone else remained seated. The Queen appeared to glide over to the table with an inscrutable expression.
“You must be Miss Fullerton,” she said coolly. “The wedding planner.”
