Page 63 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
“I’m trying not to think about that,” she said, as though Christmas Eve weren’t the day after tomorrow.
“It’s just Christmas caroling,” he said.
“With the entire kingdom,” Gracie countered. “Everyone will be watching us.”
Nick nodded. People were always watching—that was the entire point of their pretend royal romance.
Gracie let out a shaky breath. “I don’t understand. I thought tonight was supposed to be another meet-and-greet. Caroling wasn’t on the schedule. Believe me, I would’ve noticed.”
“It’s one of the activities Jaron added to the revised agenda. I’m sorry if it caught you off guard,” Nick said.
He had to do something. He didn’t like seeing her frightened like this. She already looked so tiny in that voluminous white gown of hers. And now her eyes had gone so huge in her face that she looked lost among all the glitz.
Nick took the sheet music from her and steered her toward the fireplace. “Why don’t you sit down for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded with her gaze semi-focused on the fire in the hearth as he went to speak to the woman at the small registration desk.
“Prince Nicolas!” She untied her apron, yanked it over her head, and stuffed it somewhere behind the dark wood desk, and curtseyed. “Welcome to the Krieg B&B.”
“Thank you, and please call me Nick. No need for formalities.” He lowered his voice. “Or curtseys.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl before composing herself. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“A cup of herbal tea, perhaps?” He glanced at Gracie, still watching the flames dance in the fireplace. “It’s for Gracie.”
“Coming right up. I’ve got a new one called Nutcracker Spice. I’ll put the kettle on,” she said, nodding at him as she dashed toward the kitchen.
Nick returned to Gracie’s side and lowered himself into the chair next to hers. He pulled it closer so they could have a little privacy and said a silent prayer of thanks that the lobby was empty. Most of the guests must have already headed out to stop at one of the hot cocoa or roasted chestnut stalls at the Christmas market on the way to the tree for caroling.
“Hey there, Princess. Can I ask you something?” Nick bumped the mass of Gracie’s skirt with his knee. Her leg had to be somewhere under there, didn’t it?
She blinked and then turned to face him. “Sure. What is it?”
“Why a snow princess?” He let his gaze drop to the snowflake earrings that dangled from her earlobes. “Why not Cinderella or Snow White?”
The question had been nagging at him for days, even though he couldn’t quite imagine Gracie without her snowflake crown and silver glitter. As much as he was curious about her origin story, he also wanted to get her talking so she’d stop worrying about singing.
“Oh.” She smiled. Clearly, he’d landed on a favorite topic of conversation. “I created Princess Snowflake based on a fairy tale that my grandmother read to me a lot when I was a kid—The Snow Maiden. Have you heard of it?”
Nick shook his head. “I can’t say that I have. Tell me about it.”
“It’s the story of a girl made of snow. In the book from my grandmother’s bookshelf, she was the daughter of Spring and Frost. She’s also traditionally known as the granddaughter of Father Christmas. In some European countries she’s just as popular as Santa.”
“I can believe it,” Nick said, flashing her a smile. He couldn’t imagine a world where children wouldn’t be delighted to meet a princess like Gracie.
“You haven’t heard the best part yet.” Her eyes glittered. Tiny flames from the fire reflected back at him from the depths of her irises.
Anticipation skittered through his veins, but he’d have to wait a bit longer to find out the snow maiden’s secret because Ingrid had returned with Gracie’s tea.
“Here you go, dear,” she said quietly as she handed the steaming mug to Gracie.
“Thank you.” Gracie warmed her hands on the tea and blew softly across the top of the steaming liquid.
Nick’s gaze went immediately to her bow-shaped lips. And lingered.
“Just let me know if you two need anything else,” Ingrid said.
Nick blinked hard and refocused his attention on the kind older woman. “Thank you, Ingrid.”
