Page 65 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
“I know you’re wondering, so I’ll just come out and tell you. Yes, I’ve read it,” the queen said. Then her voice went bittersweet. “And no, my son has not.”
Lacey’s entire body seemed to exhale. Henry hadn’t read her letter? She’d poured her soul into those words. That letter had been the most difficult and humbling thing she’d ever had to write. As much as she’d loved her time in Bella-Moritz, there’d been moments where it had seemed like a boulder had been sitting square on top of her chest. She hadn’t wanted to let anyone down—not Rose, and especially not Henry. When she’d unzipped her garment bag and found her Sweet Pea costume instead of the lovely organza gown she was supposed to wear to the ball, the boulder had seemed to double in size. Then, as she’d thought more about Mark’s phone call and about how she hadn’t even been proper enough for him, let alone a prince…she’d been crushed beyond repair. As heartbreaking as it had been, writing the letter to Henry had allowed her to finally breathe.
And now here was the queen, telling her he hadn’t even seen it.
Lacey should be crushed all over again. The last thing in the world she should be feeling right now was relief, and yet…
A tiny spark of it glittered inside her, along with something she’d hadn’t let herself feel since she’d landed in Henry’s kingdom…something she’d foolishly let herself lose sight of the night she’d broken up with Mark. Hope.
Lacey glanced down at her handwriting on the thick ivory paper in the queen’s hands. The monarch may as well have been holding Lacey’s heart in her palm.
“Marie came to me because she wanted me to know there was a problem with your ballgown. She said you’d asked her to deliver a note to Henry and she was worried you were going to miss tonight’s festivities. As I said, there seems to have been a misunderstanding,” Henry mother said, folding the paper into a neat square, banishing Lacey’s words from sight.
“A misunderstanding?” Lacey shook her head. “I’m not following.”
“I had my doubts when Henry told me he’d invited you to come visit during the Flower Festival, and I’ll admit I was a bit…confused…by your chosen profession. But please know that was only out of concern for Henry and Rose. Rose suffered a terrible loss when her mother died, as I’m sure you understand.” Queen Elloise reached for Lacey’s hand and gave it a tender squeeze.
The display of affection was so unexpected that a dam broke inside Lacey, and another tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away and gave Henry’s mother a wobbly smile.
“But children are sometimes far more resilient than adults. Rose has always been an open book, just waiting for the right person—the right mother figure—to take notice of her and lovingly tend to her story. Henry, on the other hand…” Queen Elloise took a deep breath, and to Lacey’s complete and total astonishment, she saw the hard glitter of tears in the monarch’s eyes. “He closed himself up. I didn’t think he’d risk losing his heart to anyone ever again, and believe me, I’ve done my share of prodding. What was it you said last night?”
Lacey was at a loss. She’d said a lot of things the night before, but all she could seem to remember was rambling on about cozy mystery novels and other things Queen Elloise probably had zero interest in. She’d also asked the queen to scroll through the picture roll on her phone, as if they were BFFs chatting over whipped frappuccinos at the corner Starbucks. Super-royal behavior.
“You said that seeing their children happy and thriving meant more to a parent than anything else in the world. I think I’d given up on that for Henry.” The queen squeezed Lacey’s hand even harder—so hard that the knuckles of her elegant fingers turned white. “Until you came along.”
Wait. What?
“But Henry is royal,” Lacey said. “He’s going to be a king someday.” She glanced at the queen’s sparkling crown for emphasis. It was a wonder she wasn’t blinded by the luster of so many diamonds. “I’m just a commoner.”
“Lacey, dear. Anyone who’s been paying attention over the past few days can see you’re anything but common.”
Lacey’s mouth dropped open. Ava had told her the very same thing back at their apartment in Fort Lauderdale, but of course her best friend would think so. Things were different here in Bella-Moritz.
Were they, though? Henry and Rose and Queen Elloise were indeed royal, but they were also a family. Perhaps behind the palace doors, family came first too, even before the bonds of king and country.
“I know it was you who helped Rose overcome her fear of riding in the procession, yet you refused to take credit for it. And I know the butterfly feeders at the flower festival were your idea,” the queen said.
Lacey lowered her gaze. Busted.
“‘Always make friends with birds and butterflies.’ How could I forget?” The queen dipped her head to look Lacey in the eye. “Those rules of yours aren’t quite as simple as they appear at first. They come from someplace deep inside you, and take my word for it, dear. Nothing is more royal or proper than authenticity.”
It took every ounce of self-control Lacey possessed to not throw her arms around the queen and hug her. Protocol or not, she probably would have, if she hadn’t been worried about ruining the queen’s gorgeous red gown with her runny mascara and tear-stained cheeks.
“So, it’s all settled, then.” Henry’s mother released Lacey’s hand and gave her one of the commanding looks she was exceptionally adept at wielding about. “You’ll go to the ball as planned.”
Lacey glanced at her Princess Sweet Pea dress hanging beside them and winced. “I can’t. I brought the wrong garment bag by mistake, and the only gown I have is my costume from the theme park.”
“Ah, that’s right. I’d almost forgotten.” The queen’s lip twitched as if she were trying not to laugh.
Authenticity might be regal and all, but that didn’t mean it was always fashionable.
“Come with me. I’m sure we can find you something else to wear. In fact, I have a tiara decorated with tiny seed pearls that would be lovely on you.” The queen winked.
Lacey was so overcome that she couldn’t stop herself anymore. She wrapped her arms around the monarch and gave her the biggest, most effusive bear hug she could muster. Queen Elloise gasped in surprise, but quickly recovered and hugged Lacey back.
The last thing Lacey saw before she squeezed her eyes closed and melted into the hug was her puffy pink princess gown, and she realized she was kind of glad she’d brought it with her by mistake. She wouldn’t have wanted to miss this special moment with Queen Elloise. It was the stuff of fairy tales—pure storybook magic.
In all honesty, it was better. Because Lacey had years of experience with fairy godmothers, but it had been a long, long time since she’d been wrapped up in the warm embrace of motherly love.
