“Katerina.”

I lifted my head to see my father, Lord Langdon Beaumonde, Earl of Villiard and Merveille’s Ambassador to France, standing in my office doorway. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain I knew he would be here, his Queen was getting married after all, but somehow that little tit-bit didn’t quite reach the part of my brain that made the jump from the French Ambassador was attending the wedding to my father was coming to the Palace.

“My Lord Father,” I said, standing and walking around the desk to kiss both his cheeks as was the expected greeting.

My sister and I had been born and raised in France and we both spoke fluent French, Italian, German and English. My father had held the office of Ambassador since before he was married. He’d married the French daughter of a diplomat and they’d made their home in Paris.

“You look well, Katerina,” he said as we broke apart and he took a step into the office proper.

“Priscilla,” I corrected him automatically, earning a stern glare and a raised eyebrow. I swallowed and then explained. “Everyone here at the Palace knows me as Priscilla, they will get confused if you call me Katerina.”

We’d had this discussion before and he hadn’t been impressed by my declaration last time either. The fact was that my mother’s name was Katerina and by going by her name, I felt I was constantly trying to live up to her memories. Coming to Merveille gave me the opportunity for a new start and a new name.

“Well, Priscilla,” he said, “It is good to see you.”

“And you Papa,” I replied, “Can I ring for some tea?”

He shook his head, “No, I’m meeting with the Queen in a few moments, I just wanted to come and see you. I thought I would see you at the airport.”

“I’m sorry Papa, I’ve been really busy with all the preparations for the wedding.”

“Yes, well, I hope that doesn’t mean that we won’t get to see you while we’re here.”

“Um, we?”

I felt it in my stomach, the dread. That awful sick feeling when you know something bad is going to happen and you can’t stop it. The desire to run or cover your ears and start singing so that you can’t hear what you’re about to be told. I knew before he said the words.

“I’m travelling with Piérre,” he said like it was nothing, like it was inconsequential.

Did I know this? I searched through my memory, mentally going through the seating chart that I knew by heart now. Surely if I’d seen his name, I would have made a mental note to prepare myself. But no, the only thing that came to mind was that my father was bringing a guest, no name had been given.

“Piérre is here?”

“Of course,” Lord Langdon replied with offence, “Why would he not be here?”

“Because Alyssa is not his Queen,” I said.

“But you are his fiancée.”

“No,” I said forcefully, “I am not his fiancée. We talked about this father, you were supposed to call off this madness. I am not marrying him.”

“Ah, now Katie,” another voice joined the discussion, “Don’t be like that.”

And there he was. Baron Piérre Romanov, a distant cousin to the Monaco Royal family but with enough royal blood to have a title and be a suitable match for me in my father’s outdated beliefs on marriage. My father’s wedding to my mother had been arranged and he had every intention of arranging both mine and Bianca’s, with or without our consent.

“No one calls me Katie anymore,” I said, holding onto my dignity, “It’s Priscilla.”

“Pretty,” he said with a smile.

I used to love his smiles, I lived for them. We had been promised when I was just twelve and he had been fourteen. I was instantly infatuated with him. His steel blue eyes, aristocratic nose and burnished blonde hair had fulfilled every romantic fantasy I’d had in my youth. Whenever he was in the company of adults he’d been brooding and serious, but then he would shoot me a grin when no one was looking and I would melt. When he smiled, his face was transformed and I had been lost.

Now his smiles made me sick.

My father looked at the pocket watch he wore on a gold chain before looking back at me. “We don’t have time to discuss this now, we’re due to meet the Queen in a few moments, but Katerina, this discussion is not over.”

He turned on his heel and walked from the room. Piérre lingered, his eyes roving over me and making me feel incredibly uncomfortable with their appraisal.

“You have grown into a beautiful woman, Priscilla,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk. “Your new name suits you.”

He took my hand and raised it to his lips and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop the shudder that threatened to overtake me.

“Until later,” he said before leaving.

I closed my door behind him and leant against it, using the cool timber to cool my burning forehead. When I had come to Merveille I had made it very clear to my father that I was refusing to marry that man. My father hadn’t fought me and I assumed the issue had been put to rest. Now I realised my mistake. My father was an expert at the machinations of the court and he had simply been biding his time. I had been surprised at the time that he hadn’t put up more resistance, especially with me moving to Merveille. He hadn’t wanted me to take up the Queen’s offer of a place amongst her Ladies in Waiting and had forbid me from coming. But then ‘The Scandal’ had hit the newspapers and I told him I was leaving. He let me go and I thought it was because of ‘The Scandal’, I’d thought he’d finally seen my side of the story, but no. He had just been biding his time, letting the initial media storm die down. Him bringing Piérre here meant only one thing, he had every intention of forcing me to marry a man I despised.

“Priscilla!”

I sighed as I zipped up my gown. My Lady’s maids had been in and done my hair and my makeup and I was almost ready to leave for the reception that was being held in the smaller ballroom in the Palace.

“Yes Bianca,” I said as I walked out of my bedroom and into the sitting room of my suite.

Bianca stood in the room, her hair in disarray and wearing a scullery maid’s uniform.

“Look at me! You did this to me!”

I looked her over and noticed the redness of her hands and the dampness of her pinafore.

“What on earth have you been doing?”

“Washing glasses,” she said, slumping on the couch and crossing her arms, her lower lip sticking out in a petulant pout.

“Why were you washing glasses? I sent you down there to polish silverware.”

“Yeah, well, Monty didn’t like me and she made me wash glasses all day.”

“Monty?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Ms Montague,” she said with a wave of her hand, “Louis and I nicknamed her Monty.”

“You saw Louis down there?”

“His brother is as evil as you are. Louis was being punished for the most ridiculous thing.”

“I’m sure,” I said, losing interest. I checked my watch, noting that I had to leave now or risk being late. “You can yell at me later, right now, I need to go.”

“Aren’t you going to help me dress?” Bianca asked, aghast.

I snorted, “I’m not your maid, Bianca. Surely you can dress yourself?”

“You are too horrible,” she complained.

“No, I have work to do. There are still two hours before the reception starts, that’s plenty of time for you to dress. I need to go and make sure everything is arranged and that the Queen doesn’t need some last minute errands run. You can stay up here and sulk if you want to, but Papa arrived today and I know he’ll want to see you.”

“Papa is here?”

I nodded as I grabbed my wrap and my purse, which was really just so I could carry my tablet in case Alyssa needed something.

“Ana and Renée are available if you would like them to do your hair, but I really have to go.”

I slipped out the door before she could try and guilt me in to staying and helping her. I loved my sister, but she could be a spoiled brat at times and part of that was on me for trying to over compensate when our mother died. But I wouldn’t take all the blame. My father was far too indulgent with her and I always came off as the bad guy because he couldn’t say no to her. But I couldn’t think about that now, I had more pressing issues to deal with.

I raced through the corridors, not running, exactly (I didn’t want to spook the security people) but at a decent clip. Dealing with Bianca had put me behind and I hated being late, to anything. I reached the corner before the Queen’s suite and took a breath, slowing to a graceful walk before her door guards could see me. Although the reason for my rushing was completely in my head, I didn’t need to alert them that there was an issue. Experts at body language and non-verbal cues, I often felt that Alyssa’s security team could read my mind, so I took the time to calm myself before turning the corner and greeting Jamie and Carlos. Jamie grinned wide, he was less intense than the others and was always quick with a joke, Carlos not so much. He had been with the Prince when he’d been killed and he still wore signs of grief. It also made him that much more vigilant and he scared me just a bit.

Jamie opened the door for me and I walked into… chaos. There was no other description for what confronted me. The suite was strewn with discarded gowns and the Queen stood in her undergarments amongst the mess, hands on her hips and a cross expression on her face. Very un-Alyssa-like. My first thought was to look for Alex, the Queen’s personal assistant, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Priscilla,” Alyssa called to me, “Thank God you’re here.”

I walked towards her calmly, much like you’d approach a spooked horse. “Your Grace,” I said calmly, “What’s going on? Where’s Alex?”

“Freddie has stolen my assistant and I am left with this mess.” She spread her arms wide, indicating the gowns.

Freddie was Lord Frédéric Bingham, Earl of Avonlea and Alex’s fiancé. No doubt she would be with her own stylists and maids getting ready for tonight. As the Earl’s fiancée there was an expectation on her to arrive on his arm, instead of with the Queen’s court.

I looked to Savannah, the Queen’s stylist who just shrugged. Standing beside her and a little behind her like she was trying to hide was Savannah’s assistant, Margaret.

“Where’s the gown you approved?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

“Ruined!” Her voice rose to almost hysterical and if we didn’t calm her down soon, Jamie and Carlos would be busting through the door to find out what the problem was.

“And Meredith?” Meredith was one of the Queen’s security team but also helping out as her second Personal Assistant with the intention of taking over the job when Alex married.

“Meredith took the dress to the laundress to see if it could be salvaged,” Jeanette said.

The five of us; Jeanette, Savannah, Margaret, Alex and myself made up the Queen’s Ladies in Waiting and we were all supposed to assist the Queen in different tasks assigned to us, but we had all become friends as well. Despite what we’d been through in the last eleven months, no one had ever seen Alyssa like this. I took a deep breath and turned to the assembled women.

“Would you mind giving the Queen and I a moment,” I said. They nodded, clearly happy to get out of the firing line. When we were alone, I turned to Alyssa and walked towards her calmly. I took her hands in mine and looked into her eyes.

“What’s this really about?” I asked, “You’re not one to fly off the handle over a dress.” She really wasn’t. Alyssa was the most low maintenance of all of us which was ironic considering she was the Queen.

“I’m getting married in a month,” she said, “A month!”

“You know Will loves you,” I said calmly, still not quite sure what this was all about.

“Yes, I know,” she sighed and plopped down on the floor amongst the tulle and taffeta. I sat with her. “He has been wonderful and so understanding.”

“But…” I prompted.

“But I’m asking so much of him. He has to give up his estate and everything he built and we’re still figuring out what exactly his role will be. We’ve never, in all our history, had a female Head of State and nobody is sure what to do with him. Some of the Members of Parliament still want to defer to him for so many things and it’s just getting so hard to keep my cool about it, although I’m sure he would be an outstanding Head of State, I was the one who took the job on and I want to be the one to do it.” She took a breath. “And I miss Alex. I love Meredith like a sister, but she is not Alex. How am I going to navigate everything to come without her?”

She looked so miserable and I could understand her dilemma. Alex was the organisational queen and I admired the way she’d run Alyssa’s office. Meredith could be scary, but I didn’t see her as the organisational whizz that Alex was.

“That is a problem for another time,” I said, “Right now all you need to worry about is getting through the dinner tonight. We can talk tomorrow about the issues you are facing going forward, but none of that matters tonight. All you need to worry about is being gorgeous and graceful and aloof, like a Queen should be.”

Alyssa hugged me. “You’re right,” she said, “The dress being ruined was just the last straw.”

“I know,” I said, hugging her back, “Now, which one of these will be it’s replacement.”

The door opened and Meredith strode in, carrying a gown. “They fixed it,” she said, obvious relief in her eyes, “The dress is fine.”

The next half an hour was a blur as everyone snapped into gear. We helped her Lady’s maids dress her and fix her hair and makeup while Margaret cleaned up the suite around us. In no time we were walking through the Palace, making our way to the foyer where we would form a reception line to welcome the guests as they arrived. Will met us there with a kiss on the cheek for each of us and a lingering one for his bride-to-be. I had to look away from the look in his eyes as he gazed at Alyssa, it was too intimate, too raw, his love clearly displayed on his face. I’d longed for that once upon a time, I’d yearned to have Piérre look at me that way, but he never did.

She was stunning. I had seen Priscilla at any number of Royal functions, but never before had I noticed how exquisite she was. There was something different about her tonight, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She was poised and graceful, but she was always those things. Tonight there was just something a little… more about her. An assuredness, an authority. She attended to the Queen, anticipating her requests which made me look for Alex, the Queen’s Personal Assistant, why wasn’t she doing that? I caught sight of her across the room beside Lord Bingham and it clicked. Alex was here as the Earl’s fiancée, not as the Queen’s assistant. Which would answer the question except that Meredith was supposed to be taking over the role and he couldn’t see Meredith anywhere.

“Enjoying the party?”

I turned to look at the man who had just addressed me and had no idea who he was. This was an unusual thing for me. I knew the guest list for this particular soirée and I knew everyone by face, not just by name, but this gentleman was an anomaly.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked.

“Baron Piérre Romanov,” he replied, turning a haughty look to me, “I’m here as the guest of the French Ambassador.”

“Of course,” I replied, understanding why I didn’t know the man, although I had heard of his reputation.

“Do you know Katerina?” he asked and I looked across the room to where Priscilla was standing speaking with a woman. Her name wasn’t Katerina.

I shook my head, “No, that’s not—”

“I’ve known her since she was a small thing, goes by another name now. Our father’s have an agreement and I’m here to make good on it. She grew up pretty, surprisingly.” He laughed at his own joke. “Didn’t think she would, she wasn’t exactly a comely child.”

I sipped my wine and looked at the woman with Priscilla, she was pretty, beautiful actually. “This is why you are in Merveille?” I asked.

“Yes. The Ambassador was kind enough to include me as his guest so that I could finally claim my bride.”

“And you’re okay with that? With an arranged marriage?”

He shrugged, “Why not? She has good breeding, our children will benefit from two Royal bloodlines. I’m sure once she has a couple of kids running around she’ll give up on the ridiculous notion she has of being a career woman. In the meantime, her working has the added benefit of keeping her occupied while I pursue my own interests.”

“So not a love match then,” I said dryly.

He laughed and grabbed another glass of wine from a passing waiter. “Hardly, although she did have rather a large crush on me when she was younger.”

“Not now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, no. I had a bit trouble a while back and it cured her of her ridiculous romantic notions. It’s better this way. It’s a business transaction, nothing more.”

He lifted his wine glass to me and moved off. I didn’t understand what that whole conversation was about or why he thought it was important to warn me off. Maybe he’d seen me looking at Priscilla and mistaken it for me looking at his intended. I pitied the woman. I was also rather taken aback that arranged marriages were still going on. I knew that Merveille was a little backward with it’s opinions on the modern woman, but things were changing, thanks to our new Queen and hearing about an arranged marriage just felt so… wrong.

“Dom,” I turned to see that Louis had sidled up to me, two empty wine glasses in his hand, the stems hooked through his fingers and a bottle of Champagne in his other hand.

“Louis,” I said, “Where are you off to?”

“I have a date with a certain delicious red head.”

“Louis,” I said, a warning in my voice, “Bianca is Priscilla’s sister and it is inadvisable to start anything with her.”

He shrugged, “What? We’re just going out to the garden to have a quiet drink. We spent all day together in the dungeon that you and her sister banished us to and nothing untoward happened. A friendly drink between coworkers is nothing.”

“Be careful,” I said and he grinned, walking away with a small salute. I shook my head, that was a disaster waiting to happen.