Page 40 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
Henry’s name, not Ian’s, popped up at the top of Lacey’s inbox.
All arrangements have been made. Airline confirmations for you and Ava are attached, and a car from the palace will meet you upon your arrival. Rose is delighted you’ll be joining us.
As am I.
xx Henry
Lacey re-read the message and then read it again a third time, turning each word over and over in her mind. He’d already made her travel arrangements. He was delighted she was going to Bella-Mortitz. And those flirty little x’s were kisses, weren’t they?
A shiver zinged up and down Lacey’s spine.
She re-checked the time on her phone. There was no way Henry was already back in his home country by now, which meant he must’ve made the reservations from the plane. And he’d done so himself. Maybe being friends with a prince wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
Then she thought about the x’s again. They seemed more than friendly. Surely he didn’t sign his messages to Ian the same way.
“Lace-y.” Ava stood just a few feet away, waving her arms in an apparent effort to get Lacey’s attention. “I need you to look at this dress.”
“Sorry.” She shoved her phone back into her handbag and grinned at the sight of her friend in the pretty red gown. “You look gorgeous.”
Ava twirled in front of the mirror. “I still think I should try on a few more. What do you think?”
“Try on as many as you like. We’re not in a rush,” Madeline said.
“Absolutely.” Lacey nodded. She wanted Ava to be as thrilled with her gown as Lacey was with hers.
So she joined Madeline in the closet while Ava slipped into the next sparkly option. The trip was all set. They were really going to Bella-Moritz. In just a few days, Lacey would see Rose and Henry again. She’d get to stay in a palace and watch Rose ride her pony in the royal procession. And thanks to her theme park fairy godmother, she had a fabulous dress to wear to the royal ball.
After years of playing the part of a princess, Lacey Pope had never felt so much like Cinderella.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s Not All Crowns and Curtseys
Henry, Rose, and Ian arrived back at the palace in the wee hours of the morning. While Ian made his way to his quarters, Henry carried a sleepy Rose to her bedroom and got her all tucked into bed, rather glad the valets and housekeeping staff had gone home for the night.
While they’d been away, he’d gotten accustomed to doing simple things for his daughter—things like making sure she brushed her teeth before she went to bed and planning what they ate for breakfast. He wasn’t quite ready to forego such hands-on parenting.
The following morning, however, there was no sipping fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice or eating a towering stack of American pancakes on the balcony overlooking the pure turquoise waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Breakfast in the palace was typically a rather formal affair, served at the long mahogany table in one of the castle’s formal dining rooms. It was the only meal of the day the entire family always enjoyed together, without fail. Henry’s mother, and frequently Henry himself, were often away, attending to royal duties in the evening. Breakfast, as stuffy as it could be at times, was reserved for family.
Henry popped by Rose’s suite on his way to the dining room, but she was in the middle of getting her hair combed and arranged into two perfect French braids by Miss Marie, her favorite ladies’ maid. So much for Henry’s meager attempts at pigtails. He left his daughter sitting at her vanity in her pajamas—chattering away to Marie about her birthday trip—and strode down the wide, crimson-carpeted hall toward the rich scents of fresh-ground espresso, flaky croissants, and hearty breakfast cassoulet.
The queen was already situated at the head of the table, flipping through the stack of newspapers she read religiously every morning, when Henry entered the room.
“Good morning, Mother,” he said, pausing to kiss her cheek on his way to his seat.
She looked up from the pages of Le Figaro and smiled. “Ah, you’ve returned, and not a minute too soon.”
Henry unfolded his napkin and spread it across his lap. “Yes, and Rose had a lovely time. We both did.”
He waited for her to comment on the photo he’d texted her. Henry thought it might be the best way to bring up the fact that he’d invited Lacey for a stay at the palace during the Flower Festival, but his mother clearly had other concerns.
“My secretary tells me you never responded to her email about the list of potential governesses for Rose,” she said, reaching for her teacup.
Henry was going to need caffeine for this conversation. Lots of it. A footman set an espresso in front of him, and Henry shot him a grateful smile. “That’s because she’s not getting a governess. Rose will be returning to school in the fall. She’s a future monarch, but she also needs a real childhood. Our time away has made that clearer than ever.”
The queen raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” Henry nodded and drained his cup. Then he added in a gentler tone, “I wish you could’ve seen how happy she was in Florida. I know you’d understand.”
