Page 91 of Rivals
“You know what?” Nina added, glancing at Daphne. “We need to find you something purple. Just to remind Gabriella that she can’t personallyownacolor.”
Daphne grinned. “I like the way you think.”
It was both enlightening and amusing, shopping with Daphne. She was full of opinions about how Nina should dress to accentuate her best features: “You can get away with strapless, take advantage of that,” or “Sorry, you’re just not tall enough to pull off an uneven hemline.”
And whenever either of them tried on a dress that she didn’t like, Daphne offered up a scathing critique.
A black satin gown with leather detail on the shoulders: “What are you going for, Count Dracula?” A dress with real feathers along the hem: “National Geographic called; they want their birds back.” A lemon-yellow gown: “Why don’t you just eat a yellow Starburst and wear the wrapper?”
After that last failed dress, Nina leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. “This is exactly why I hate shopping for black-tie events,” she moaned.
Daphne made an exasperated noise. “Nina, this isn’t a black-tie event. It’s not even a white-tie event! The attire for the League of Kings banquet isfull decorations.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the guests wear their medals of honor and crowns. It’s the most formal type of attire that exists.”
“Right. Let me just give my tiara a polish,” Nina muttered.
“All I’m saying is, this yellow”—Daphne hesitated, searching for the right word—“ensembleyou have on won’t work. We’ll just have to keep looking,” she added, seemingly cheered by the prospect.
Nina waited until Daphne had helped with the zipper before she asked something she’d been wondering for a while now.
“Daphne…if you’re so worried about money, why don’tyou work? I’m not saying you should flip burgers,” she hurried to add. “But you’re smart, and people love you. There has to be something you can do with that.”
“What, sell an exclusive tell-all interview?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Nina insisted. “What about something less personal? Can’t you work at an art gallery? Write a children’s book? I can see it now—something with girl power and glittery shoes.”
“None of those are options for me. I’m not allowed to take on any kind of sales-related job, even at an art gallery, because it would reflect poorly on the royal family. Anyone who bought a painting from me would be accused of trying to buy their way into the Washingtons’ good graces.” Daphne shook her head. “And Idefinitelycan’t write a book, even a picture book about magical shoes. The NDA made it very clear that I was relinquishing my right to write or sell anything, ever.”
Nina blinked. “You signed an NDA?”
“Of course I did. Plus multiple riders and amendments.”
“Seriously?”
Daphne seemed much less upset by this than Nina. “The palace made me sign something when Jefferson and I were first dating, of course. Then after he broke up with me, they clearly worried I wouldn’t consider myself bound by the contract anymore—that I might publish a salacious memoir—so they sent over a contract amendment that very morning.” Daphne sighed. “Jefferson dumped me, and then hours later, a messenger from the palace’s legal department appeared on my front step. I was crying so hard, I pretty much signed the document without reading it.”
Heat flooded Nina’s face. She knew the exact morning that Daphne was talking about, becauseshewas the reason Jeff had broken up with Daphne—or at least one of the reasons.The night before, she and Jeff had hooked up for the first time.
“Doesn’t it bother you, having a contract about your relationship?” she asked.
It was an intrusive question, but Daphne didn’t flinch. “You’re thinking about this wrong. The contract isn’t about our relationship; it’s about what I’m allowed to disclose about the relationship.”
Nina shook her head. “It was about your relationship. Even if they didn’t state it explicitly, the palace kept trying to dictate what I could wear—” She broke off uncomfortably, but her meaning was already abundantly clear.
“The palace asked you to sign an NDA, too,” Daphne said quietly.
Nina got angry all over again, thinking of how Robert Standish had shown up at her parents’ house, telling her that if she and Jefferson were together, she could no longer wearsweatpants.
“I didn’t sign it.” Nina’s relationship with Jeff had been over before it got to that point.
“Really?” Daphne sounded impressed. “I guess I just assumed that was the cost of dating him.”
“Oh,” Nina muttered awkwardly, because she had no idea what else to say.
Daphne hesitated, sucking in a breath. “While we’re on the topic, Nina…last year, when I did all that stuff to you…I might have overreacted.”
