Page 46 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
The ride was short—just under half an hour—and as the driver glanced over his shoulder and said, “Welcome to Bella-Moritz,” he maneuvered the car beneath a huge arch made entirely of flowers—blooms of various shades of purple, from pale lavender orchids to brightly-hued tulips to deep, rich hydrangeas.
Lacey gasped. There were flowers everywhere she looked, spread in layered fields as far as the eye could see on either side of the car and overflowing from baskets suspended from the dozens of ornate, iron street lamps that lined the avenue. Palm trees stretched toward the clear blue sky, their bright green leaves providing shelter for the colorful blooms below.
“What is this place?” Ava asked, pressing her face to the window.
“Grand Flower Park. You’ve come at the perfect time of year. Flowers bloom year-round in Bella-Moritz, due to the mild temperatures and our close proximity to the sea, but summer is always something special.” The driver smiled at them in the rearview mirror. “During the Flower Festival, vendors set up booths here in the park, selling handmade soaps, essential oils, and perfumes. The day after tomorrow, the greenhouse at the royal palace will be open to visitors, and the following day the festival parade will travel down this very street, all the way from Grand Flower Park to the castle.”
“When is the ball?” Ava said, unable to help herself.
Lacey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
“The royal ball is the grand finale of the festival. It takes place the day after the parade—in the evening, of course. Gardeners, florists, and representatives from all the local charities supported by the palace are invited, along with assorted royal guests.”
Assorted royals. Does that include theme park princesses?
At least she’d look the part, thanks to Madeline. The Once Upon A Time garment bag containing Lacey’s borrowed gown was tucked neatly into the trunk of the car, along with the rest of her luggage.
Lacey did her best to take everything in as they crawled along the wide avenue that led to the palace. Pretty shop windows lined the street, decorated with floral themes in celebration of the upcoming festivities. At the corner of every intersection, flower cart vendors sold fresh-cut bouquets—tiny nosegays with stems wrapped in tightly wound satin ribbon, all the way to magnificent bunches of glitter-tipped roses with petals that looked as if they’d been rolled in diamond dust.
Below the cliffside town center, perched at the edge of a jagged mountain covered in adorable cottages in soft watercolor hues, the Mediterranean Sea shone like a rare sapphire. Lacey had never seen water so blue, not even back home. It reminded her of Henry’s soulful eyes.
Which was a super-platonic, non-romantic thought to be having as she sat in the backseat of a fancy town car on the way to his palace.
She couldn’t dwell on her feelings much, though, because the castle had suddenly come into view. The crown jewel of the charming principality, it stood at the end of the avenue, behind an enormous fountain that created a roundabout at the palace drive. Beyond the dancing water, the glamorous Belle Époque-style building rose against the backdrop of the deep blue sea. It was so breathtaking that Lacey could’ve cried. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—something cold, gray, and made of stone, maybe?
But this was the very opposite of whatever medieval structure she’d conjured in her head. The Bella-Moritz Royal Palace was the color of a sun-bleached seashell—soft white, with just a touch of peachy pink—and it made Lacey want to put on a pair of dark, heart-shaped glasses and tip her face toward the sun.
As grand as it all was, there was no line of servants awaiting her at the doors to the enormous building. Clearly Lacey had watched too much Downton Abbey last year when she’d been sick with the flu. The lack of uniformed staff waiting to greet her was a relief, more than anything, especially when she caught sight of a familiar trio walking down the palace’s wide steps toward the car when the driver pulled to a stop. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest in the moment her eyes met Henry’s.
“Um. Lace?” Ava peered out of the vehicle’s tinted windows. “Who is that?”
“Henry and Rose,” Lacey said, swallowing. After days of anticipation and more text messages than she could count, she was finally here.
“Obviously.” Ava rolled her eyes. “I mean the other one.”
“That’s Ian, Henry’s protection officer. I told you about him, remember?”
“You failed to mention how cute he is, which is a flagrant violation of the girlfriend code. How could you possibly forget to tell me he looks like a long-lost Hemsworth brother? You’ll have to explain yourself later, over budget rosé, when we get back home. Meanwhile—” Ava dabbed her lips with gloss while Henry approached the car, “—I’ll settle for an introduction.”
Lacey laughed. Thank goodness this journey was beginning to feel more like a normal girls’ trip than a royal fairy tale…except for the ridiculously handsome prince who grinned down at Lacey and offered her his hand after he’d opened her car door.
“Henry.” She beamed up at him and suddenly had no idea what to do with her hands. Instinct told her to hug him, but was that allowed right here in his royal front yard?
“Princess Sweet Pea!” Rose, dressed in a prim white blouse with a Peter Pan collar and a pair of tan riding breeches instead of the Sweet Pea ballgown she’d worn every day at the park, threw herself between them and hugged Lacey’s legs. “You’re here.”
Sorry, Henry mouthed. Then he leaned closer and whispered, “She’s a little excited to see her favorite member of the nobility.”
Henry smelled like sun-drenched lemons, sea salt, and fresh Mediterranean air. Lacey’s stomach did a little tumble. Without his baseball cap and casual theme park clothing, he looked every inch a prince.
I am in so much trouble.
The theme park princess handbook didn’t offer a single word of warning against developing a crush on a real-life prince, which definitely felt like a glaring omission.
She bent to peel Rose’s arms from her knees and wrap her arms around the little girl. “You know what? While I’m here, why don’t you call me Lacey instead of Princess Sweet Pea?”
“You mean like how Daddy calls me Rose instead of Caitriona?” Rose tilted her head. Her hair was arranged in tight French braids rather than the lopsided pigtails that had been her trademark at Once Upon A Time. “Is Lacey your secret princess name?”
“Um…” Lacey didn’t know to answer that question. She’d been there less than a minute and already she was beginning to feel weirdly self-conscious about all the princess talk.
