Page 63 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
“Congratulations,” she said. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“She’s a corporate attorney. We dated back in college but broke up when she went off to law school. We were engaged back then, actually, and I don’t know…seeing her again just felt right. We’ve sort of picked up where we left off.”
Lacey understood. She truly did. Falling for Henry was the last thing she’d ever expected. But sometimes the heart was much better at this sort of thing than the head.
Also…an attorney? No surprise there. Mark had found his proper woman with a proper job who’d make a proper wife. “I’m guessing she doesn’t show up to your dates in princess clothes?”
“About that,” Mark said. “No hard feelings, okay? I was out of line. I’m glad you love your job. You’re great at it, and I had no right to press you about what you’re going to do when it’s over. I care about you, Lace. And I always will. Things work out for the best, right?”
Henry’s face flashed in Lacey’s mind. “Of course they do. I’m happy for you, Mark. Truly.”
“Thanks. And Lace?”
“Yes?”
“I hope you have a great vacation.”
Lacey smiled into her phone. “I already am.”
They ended the call, and Lacey took a deep breath. That was unexpected. She was excited for Mark, though. She really was. And now…
Now she was going to be late if she didn’t get dressed right away. Anticipation sparked through her as she reached for the zipper on the garment bag again. She slid it down, slowly and carefully, so as not to snag the delicate chiffon fabric.
A pop of pink tulle spilled from the bag, followed by a glittery ruffle. Lacey blinked. It took a minute or two to make sense of what she was seeing.
No. It can’t be. She felt like she was going to be sick. Why was her Princess Sweet Pea costume hanging inside this bag instead of her borrowed ball gown?
Lacey dug through the tulle, hoping against hope that the elegant chiffon gown was buried somewhere beneath the garish pink dress she wore every day on roller coasters, sleigh rides, and spinning teacups. But it wasn’t there.
She must’ve mixed up her garment bags and dropped off the lilac gown at the dry cleaners instead of her costume before she’d left town. It was the only explanation. Without the enormous petticoat she wore beneath the princess dress, it wasn’t quite as voluminous as usual. Also, Madeline had tucked tissue paper all around the lilac gown to keep it from wrinkling. Tucked away inside their garment bags, the dresses had seemed almost identical in weight. Lacey had been so careful. How could she have made such a terrible mistake?
Did it really matter what had happened? The bottom line was she had nothing to wear to the ball.
I can’t go.
Tears pricked her eyes. There was no way she could show up in the ballroom in this dress. It was bad enough that she might be pictured on the front page of the paper dressed as Princess Sweet Pea. She couldn’t walk around the palace dressed as a theme park princess.
Lacey slumped onto the bed and dropped her head in her hands. How had she not seen this coming? She didn’t belong here. Could it have been any more obvious? The queen clearly hadn’t been thrilled to meet her. Then there’d been the chocolate stain and tiara-gate and the uncomfortable conversation with Henry’s mother last night after the parade. Her old boyfriend had just called, and while she was thrilled he’d found happiness, his engagement now seemed to underscore the reasons for their breakup.
I’m unsuitable. I was improper to Mark, and I’m improper for Henry too.
The dress hanging on the door to the wardrobe was like a giant, pink exclamation point, hammering the message home. She’d let herself get caught up in a royal fantasy, and now the coach was turning back into a pumpkin. It was time to pack her bags and go home.
Lacey pulled her nightstand drawer open and pulled out a thick sheet of palace stationery. Then she wrote Henry a note, thanking him for his family’s hospitality and for the best week she’d ever had, but telling him she’d given it a lot of thought and she couldn’t go to the ball. He should issue the statement they’d talked about. It would be best for everyone.
She managed not to cry until she wrote the final sentence, asking him to kiss Rose goodbye for her. Then a fat teardrop fell onto the page.
The door to her suite opened just as she placed the letter into an envelope, and Miss Marie walked inside the room. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I thought you’d be headed to the ballroom by now.” Marie took in Lacey’s tear-stained face and pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, Miss Pope. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m fine. Really.” She placed the envelope into Marie’s hand. “But could you give this to Henry, please?”
Miss Marie shook her head. “Oh, no. That can’t be what you want.”
“It is,” Lacey lied.
And just like that, her fairy tale was over.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
