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I blinked twice. “Uh . . . what charity event is that?”
Queen Annabelle glowered at me. “Miss Dupont was in charge of our annual Royal Children’s Hospital fundraiser gala. Obviously, you are taking over all of her responsibilities, are you not?”
“I . . . um . . .” Clueless, I glanced at Oliver for help.
“Mother,” Oliver interjected. “Grace only arrived a few hours ago. Perhaps we should give her time to settle in before we overwhelm her with more details. I’d be more than happy to get her up to speed on everything tomorrow.”
“Very well . . .” Queen Annabelle’s eyes narrowed. “Being in charge of the gala will be an excellent test. If you can handle that, I will relax and feel confident you are up to planning a royal wedding.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I can handle it,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt. “When is this gala?” I reached for my wine, needing more liquid courage than food at that moment.
“The fundraiser is this Saturday,” Queen Annabelle said.
I almost choked on my wine.
A charity event.
In three days.
That I knew nothing about.
How was I going to pull this off on top of planning the most anticipated royal wedding in decades? One misstep could spell disaster, not just for the royal family, but for the children, and my entire career.
“You can handle it,” Oliver said, as his mother’s steely gaze remained locked on me, waiting to see if I would crack under the pressure.
Taking a deep breath, I met her scrutinizing stare head-on with a forced smile. “I look forward to the opportunity to prove myself, Your Majesty. Consider the gala handled.”
My false bravado seemed to catch her off guard.
Oliver gave me an approving nod.
Queen Annabelle pursed her lips. “We shall see about that.”
Her thinly veiled threat hung in the air.
The gauntlet had been thrown down.
The next seventy-two hours would make or break my entire future. The weight of it all pressed down on me, almost forcing the air from my lungs.
No pressure at all.
The only thing I had to do was pull off a miracle.
Chapter Six
PRINCE OLIVER
The rhythmic pounding of our feet on the side-by-side treadmills filled the royal palace gym as I tried to keep up with Dante’s steady pace. Twice a week, we held our meetings during our workouts, since most of the royal business we needed to discuss was monotonous and tended to bore me. I really needed to dedicate more time to something I was passionate about.
What that was, I did not know.
Presently, it felt as if I were just going through the motions in life, the same old routine, instead of living it to the fullest.
“How did it go with Grace last night at dinner?” Dante asked.
“As expected—it was painful to watch,” I said. “I knew hiring her would ruffle Mother’s feathers, but I didn’t expect an outright insurgency on their first meeting. I do have to give Grace credit, though. She braved her first storm, and came out mostly unscathed, from what I could tell.”
“And was there another storm this morning at breakfast?” Dante questioned with concern etched on his face.
