32. AMANDA

I can’t believe this. I mean, I literally can’t believe this. There has to be some kind of trick.

“Am I dreaming?” I ask. “You don’t have to pinch me, just tell me.”

Maria eyes me up and down with an appreciative smile.

“You’re not dreaming, love,” she says. “It’s just Andreas Fortuna.”

“It’s absolutely gorgeous!” Oriana beams.

The mirror is telling me that my cowgirl body looks somehow perfect in this custom designed dress, and that it fits me perfectly, right off the dressing dummy, after only a single round of measurements.

“This is un-fucking-believable,” I breathe as I marvel at my reflection.

“Ahem…” Maria clears her throat loudly.

Oh shit. Oriana.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I say. “Grownups aren’t supposed to use words like that, especially royals. It’s unseemly.”

“It’s okay,” Oriana says absently. “Uncle uses that word all the time. Well, he used to until you got here.”

He stopped swearing because of me? Maybe he was embarrassed after his little outburst right before we met.

Andreas pokes his head back into the room. “Everyone decent again?”

“As decent as we’re going to get,” I say. “Especially with a potty mouth like mine.”

He strides through the door, then stops in his tracks as he sees me. His eyes widen and his mouth rounds into an O.

“I’ve outdone myself,” he whispers. “It’s a masterpiece.”

The face in my reflection blushes, but the rest of me still looks the same: the dress accentuates my cleavage, hugs my hips and makes me look much taller. Andreas somehow found the perfect shade of ivory so that my ghostly pale skin doesn’t get lost in the dress.

For the first time in my life, the word “beautiful” comes to mind as I look at myself. Most of the time I brush off compliments – Dad tells me I’m beautiful all the time – but right here, right now, I am a princess.

And here come the waterworks again.

“Thank you so much, Andreas,” I say, sniffling. “This is beyond my wildest dreams.”

“Darling, when the artist has a canvas such as you, the work is easy.” He takes my hands. “If you’re Andreas Fortuna, of course.”

Maria and I both giggle. She takes a handkerchief from her purse and dabs at my eyes for me.

“Another item we can check off the list,” she says, making a swooping motion with her hand. “One perfect royal wedding gown.”

“The flowers are ready, too,” Oriana says proudly. “The florist sent me an email with photos of the flowers we chose and I said they looked perfect.”

Maria gives her an indulgent smile and makes another swoop.

“Flowers: check!” she says.

I take one last, longing look in the mirror and sigh before I head back behind the screen and shrug out of my dress.

“Do we have an update on the RSVPs?” I call as I pull my skirt back on.

“Staff reports this morning indicate we managed to get most of the Crown Council and some National Council executive members,” Maria says. “ Although several of them made sure to gripe about the fact they had to change plans to do so. We expected that, of course.

“A few heads of state will be there: Italy and Switzerland, obviously, a few from the Middle East, the Canadian prime minister.”

“Ooooh,” I say. “I’d like to shake his hand.”

“Among other things,” she says evenly, never taking her eyes from her clipboard. “Various cousins will be here, of course. All of European nobility is related somewhere down the line; they’re really quite an incestuous group.”

“What’s ‘incestuous’?” Oriana asks.

Maria doesn’t miss a beat. “It means not inviting other people to your party.”

“That’s not nice.”

“No,” I say, hugging her shoulder. “It’s not. But we’re nice, aren’t we? We’re going to invite everyone to our parties.”

She smiles. “It’s more fun that way! Vito and I hardly ever get to meet new people.”

Maria glances at her watch. “Amanda and I have many things to do,” she says. “Andreas, we truly cannot thank you enough.”

He bows at the waist, showing us the top of his bald head.

“The pleasure was all mine, ladies. Now I must prepare for the flood of phone calls I will receive the day after the wedding.”

“Oriana, will you please escort Signore Fortuna down to the east entrance? There’s a car waiting for him.”

She takes him by the arm. “Can you make me a dress?” she asks as they head for the door.

“You see?” he says, looking back over his shoulder. “The offers are coming in already.” He drops a wink. “Ciao, bella.”

Maria motions towards the antique settee in the room and we take a seat. I still can’t get used to how many rooms there are in the palace, and how much furniture. There are huge sections of the building I still haven’t seen.

This dressing room alone is probably three-quarters of the size of the house I grew up in.

“The staff is handling the details according to your instructions,” she says. “The forecast for Saturday looks perfect, there have been no problems with supplies, the Morovan media are working to get a film crew ready to broadcast the ceremony live… I think we may actually be ahead of the game.”

My wedding, broadcast live around the world. No big deal.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,” she says. “Anything, you know that.”

“If you see me sprinting for the front door, can you tackle me and wrestle me back into the palace?”

Maria has one of the kindest smiles of anyone I know. She puts her clipboard on the coffee table and takes my hands in hers.

“I’m quite certain it won’t come to that,” she says. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters. Of course, in your case, I can only imagine that they’re heightened to an insane degree.”

“Believe it or not, I’m actually pretty okay with the wedding itself. I’m confident in my plans, and in your staff’s ability to pull it all off.”

“You’re saying it’s the marriage, not the wedding, that has you concerned?”

I sigh. So many things have been swirling in my head for the last two weeks: the proposal, the wedding plans, my dad. Dante. The children.

The future.

“What happens after a year?” I ask. “What if this whole thing is just a way for Dante to hold onto the monarchy? Do I have to walk away?”

She grips my hands tighter. “There’s never certainty in any marriage. And you really should give Dante more credit. Remember what he did with your ‘bride price.’”

How could I ever forget? He offered my dad five times what I’d asked for. I couldn’t believe it, but Dante acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. Dad was over the moon to know he’d be out from under the bank’s thumb by our wedding day.

“If it was just me, I’d be okay with taking the risk,” I say, even though I wouldn’t be. Not really. “But it’s not just me. Oriana and Vito are innocent bystanders in all this. How hard would it be on them if I were to just walk out after being an integral part of their lives for a year? How hard would it be on me? No amount of money is worth that kind of pain.”

Hot tears stream down my cheeks. I’ve been holding this in for days now.

Maria pulls my head onto her shoulder.

“As I said, no marriage is ever guaranteed to work. And I think the fact that you even asked that question means you’re ready to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t go down that road.”

“But when royal marriages go wrong, they really go wrong,” I say. “Look at Charles and Diana.”

“Dante is not Charles,” she soothes. “And you’re not Diana.”

“Yeah, and he didn’t buy her virginity at the last minute to fulfill some insane decree, either.”

That came out meaner than I wanted it to. But the truth is the truth.

We sit there in silence for a few moments, Maria stroking my hair, me snuffling back the last of my tears.

“If it’s any consolation,” she says, “I’ve never seen Dante act around a woman the way he acts around you.”

“Really? Even skinny-legs Giselle?”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Especially her. The less said about her, the better. She was little more than window dressing for the tabloids.”

“Too bad she didn’t figure that out before she came over to our table.”

“Giselle Ranette is an ignorant, entitled sow who deserved what she got and more.”

“And yet she was his girlfriend,” I point out.

“Yes,” she says. “You have to understand the circles that Dante moves in. These people all have wealth, status and privilege, and they’re surrounded by people who never tell them ‘no.’ It doesn’t excuse their behavior, but perhaps it explains it.”

“I guess you’re right. I saw enough of it on the farm. Once we had a beaver wander up from the river near our place and right into a herd of heifers.”

“I’m sorry,” Maria says. “What’s a heifer?”

“It’s a female that hasn’t been bred yet.” I know what that’s like. “Anyway, the cows followed it everywhere, sniffing it and pestering it. Dozens of them, all following the leader. It’s just their nature.”

I look up at her and she cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you comparing Giselle to a heifer?” she asks.

“Hey, if the moo fits…”

She chuckles, which helps lift the mood of the moment.

“Neither of us has time for this kind of nonsense,” she says, giving me a peck on the forehead. “There’s a royal wedding happening in a couple of days, in case you haven’t heard.”

We both get up and gather our things to leave.

“Thank you, Maria,” I say. “I would literally be insane if I didn’t have you to get me through this stuff.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” she says with a curtsy. “But any more episodes like this and I’m going to demand Dante give me a raise.”

“You never know,” I say with an evil grin. “Maybe I’ll be your boss after the wedding.”

She rolls her eyes. “What is it you Americans say? Shoot me now?”

Our giggles echo through the huge granite hallway as we join arms and head out into the palace.