Page 5 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
How long had it been since Henry had heard his little girl laugh—really laugh? He couldn’t quite remember, and that realization saddened him most of all.
Queen Elloise rested a gentle hand on his forearm. “I know you only want what’s best for Rose, but it’s been a long time since she lost her mother. You’re not doing her any favors by letting her fear get the better of her. Your young princess is stronger than you think she is, and it’s time for her to represent the Crown.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe if she were educated here at the palace instead of attending public school, she’d have a better appreciation of what’s expected of her.”
The school thing again. Sometimes it felt like Henry and his mother kept having the same conversations, repeatedly. “The children Rose goes to school with will one day be her subjects. I can’t think of a better way to prepare her for her future than befriending them and learning with them, side by side.”
“She needs to learn what it means to be a proper member of this family,” the queen countered. “She needs to stand up and act like royalty.”
“She’s seven.” No, technically, she was still a six-year-old. Anger seared through Henry. This was precisely the sort of pressure Rose didn’t need.
His daughter needed a break. He needed one, too. If they could just get away for a bit, Henry knew he could figure out a solution to the pony problem.
“We’re going.” He strode away from the window, toward the door, anxious to get down to the stables and give Rose the happy news. “It’s already been arranged.”
The queen’s mouth dropped open, which in itself was a sort of breakthrough. After decades on the throne, it was nearly impossible to surprise Henry’s mother.
“This is non-negotiable. We’ll be back in time for the Flower Festival, and I promise Rose will ride her pony in the royal procession. You have my word.” Henry lingered in the doorway. Somewhere in the back of his head, warning bells went off. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. “But first I’m taking her to America for her seventh birthday.”
“America?” The queen let out a disbelieving laugh. “What could you possibly find in America that you can’t find here?”
A year ago…a month ago…heck, even a week ago, Henry might’ve had the same reaction. But three days earlier, he’d found Rose propped up in bed, watching a movie on her iPad when he’d gone to her room to kiss her goodnight. The film had been set at a theme park, complete with spinning teacups instead of high tea at the palace, sausage-on-a-stick instead of fancy royal dinners, and Rose had been transfixed. She’d been as awestruck by the imitation, garish, fairy-tale world as tourists to Bella-Moritz were by the sight of the very real castle in which she lived. Something had stirred inside Henry then—something he hadn’t felt for quite a long time.
Hope.
Henry’s heart swooped as if it were on a rollercoaster ride and he felt himself smile. What could America give his little girl that she couldn’t find behind the palace walls? The answer was simple.
“Childhood.”
CHAPTER TWO
Grumpy Baseball Cap
“So that’s it? You broke up with him?” Lacey’s best friend, Ava Rivera, met her gaze in the mirror that hung in the dressing room at Ever After Castle on Saturday morning. “For good?”
“For good.” Lacey nodded and paused to dust her eyelids with another layer of the fine silver glitter that Mark apparently loathed so much.
Now that the initial shock of their breakup had worn off, Lacey felt like she was experiencing every emotion at once—sadness, heartbreak, humiliation…and anger. Oh yes, she was definitely feeling angry, as evidenced by the furious cloud of glitter she stirred up with her slender makeup brush.
Face characters at Once Upon A Time—meaning those who didn’t wear a big fur head, like the Big Bad Wolf—were responsible for doing their own hair and makeup. It could be a lengthy process. Lacey’s work schedule allotted one hour to get dressed and ready before she made her first appearance for the day as Princess Sweet Pea, and she typically used up every minute.
The castle’s dressing room area had a long wall with lighted vanity mirrors stretching from one end to the other. Cast members sat on tall stools, perfecting their fairy-tale makeup and teasing their hair into elaborate princess updos. A row of changing rooms separated by curtains decorated with the Ever After logo—an open storybook with a swirl of fairy dust—stood at the opposite end of the dressing area. In between, costumes hung in neat rows on long silver rolling racks. An ever-present cloud of hairspray hung in the air.
“I still can’t believe it.” Ava shook her head and went over her lips with velvety crimson lipstick.
Lacey and Ava had already had an abbreviated version of this conversation the night before, when Lacey had shown up at the apartment they shared with tears streaming down her face, a doggie bag full of uneaten fancy chicken in her hand and the tiara Mark had found so offensive still pinned to her head. Lacey had been too mortified to elaborate on the reason for the breakup, so she and Ava had shared the contents of the doggie bag, along with a bottle of rosé, and watched reruns of Friends until Lacey had fallen into bed, puffy-eyed and more than a little bit heartbroken.
“I had to do it. He kept asking me about the job thing. I was starting to feel pressured. I just don’t want to quit until I know for certain what I want to do next. Even if I decide to get my teaching certificate, the next semester doesn’t start until fall.” Lacey sighed.
She wasn’t sure what was stopping her from going ahead and enrolling in the college classes she’d need to get certified. All she knew was the more Mark had wanted to talk about it, the more confused she’d become.
“When he said something about getting a more proper career, I sort of lost it.” Lacey jammed another bobby pin into her blond hair. “Whatever proper means.”
One of the Three Little Pigs walked behind them, all suited up and ready for work. Lacey glanced at its curly pink tail, then met Ava’s amused gaze in the mirror.
She laughed. “Well, maybe I know what proper means, but I disagree vehemently with his assessment of my current job choice.”
“I get it. Some of us are just biding our time until we catch a real acting break.” Ava pulled her red hood in place and tied it with a red satin bow. “But being Princess Sweet Pea is different for you. I put on this costume and play the part of Red Riding Hood every day, but sometimes I think you truly are a fairy-tale princess.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m quite aware of the fact that I’m not actually royal.” How could she not be, after the disastrous dinner the night before?
