Page 23 of The Heart of the King

Jasmine smiled weakly. “Surprise.”

8

After her parents disconnected, Jazz flopped back onto the pillows behind her. “That could have gone better.”

David continued to sit where he was. “It could have gone far worse.”

“True.” She blew out a breath. “Hopefully, they can all come for Christmas. We always spend Christmas as a big family thing, so if everyone can’t come, it’s unlikely my parents will.”

“Which means everyone in your family would be coming?”

“Probably. If they can’t, my parents won’t. Maybe New Year’s Eve or early January. If we weren’t going out of town between now and then, they might have come for a few days before Christmas.”

She closed her eyes but felt him lay back next to her.

“I know it’s a lot. It has to be overwhelming.” The tender sound of his voice had to be part of what drew her to him in the first place. She hadn’t mentioned the part about being drunk to her parents - just that it felt right in a way nothing ever had before.

Of course they didn’t know about Leo…

“It is,” she told him. “Part of it is that I don’t know what I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing or where I’m supposed to be going or what I’m supposed to wear when I get there.”

“You’ll have staff members working with you tomorrow. The palace stylist is one of them. Most of them will be temporary until you either find someone you mesh well with among those already employed by the staff or hire someone from outside.” His pinky hooked into hers.

“The palace stylist won’t try to change me, will she?” That was her second biggest fear at the moment. The biggest was being an utter failure, but at least she could look like herself while she did it.

“Maybe tweak some of your style, but she shouldn’t try to change you entirely.”

“That’s good. I wouldn’t like that.”

His pinky squeezed hers. “If she does, come find me.”

“Thanks.” Knowing she had his support meant a lot to her.

And that was how, twelve hours later, she found herself in a stare down with a woman at least thirty years her senior.

“I willnotbother the king with such a trivial matter,” Mrs. Sneedly told her.

“Good. I don’t want to either,” Jazz snapped back. “I’m not cutting my hair or dyeing it. And I’m not taking out the nose ring. You can barely see it if you’re not looking carefully.”

“Green and blue hair and a nose ring are completely unacceptable for any member of the Auverignonian royal family, much less the queen.”

If she didn’t know she had David backing her up, Jazz might not have the nerve to stand straight under Mrs. Sneedly’s withering stare.

“How about a trim?” one of the other women offered a timid suggestion.

“No.” Jazz didn’t object to a trim, but she also didn’t trust that the scissors wouldn’t “slip” and end up cutting off far more than intended. “I’ll do my own hair for tomorrow.” It wouldn’t be anything overly fancy, but it would be fine.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Mrs. Sneedly hadn’t given up. Jazz knew that, but was willing to acquiesce for the moment as the other woman motioned to one of her assistants. “Next we’ll try a few dresses. You will wear one of those. There are no other options.”

“We’ll see.” Jazz remained noncommittal.

She tried on three dresses, none of which she liked and two clashed with her hair or skin tone. Not just didn’t quite match or didn’t look great, but one actually washed her out to the point she’d probably look like a vampire.

“You must pick one of these,” Mrs. Sneedly insisted.

“No.” Jasmine wasn’t trying to be obstinate, but it seemed obvious that Mrs. Sneedly wasn’t actually trying to help her, but rather force her into something that made her uncomfortable and would hurt her public image.

Mrs. Sneedly motioned to her primary assistant who moved to unzip the dress for Jazz. There was a light tug on her hair and then a gasp.

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