Page 61 of A Royal Disaster
“They’re stunning. May I?” she asked, gesturing toUntitled.
“Of course,” Pereira said. “Be my guest. It’s not every day we host fans of Marques. I’m impressed you recognized his work.”
Lena grinned, a flush creeping across her cheeks as she skirted the table to study the painting on the opposite wall. “I had the opportunity to see a few of Marques’s paintings at an exhibit in Boston a few years ago, but I’ve always enjoyed abstractionism.”
“As have I,” said Silva, appearing at her side again. “I’m fortunate enough to have one of Marques’s paintings in my own collection.”
“That’s amazing.” And it was, given the museum guide had told her group that several of Marques’s paintings had been lost in a plane crash near Japan. She turned her attention back to the gray and white painting. She couldn’t help but wonder what the subject had been. With no title, it was impossible to guess, but she couldn’t deny it was striking.
Hopefully someone would feel the same way about her work someday.
“Shall we?” Silva gestured toward the table, and Lena followed his gaze. Her stomach dropped and a cold sweat coated her hairline. It looked just like the scene fromPretty Womanwhen Barney gave Vivian an etiquette lesson.
Mierda. She really ought to have paid more attention to the specifics, because the spread before her looked like it had been plucked right out of the movie.
The table had been set with stark white linens, fine red and gold china, and honest to God silverware, polished to a high sheen. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there were four crystal goblets at each seat.Four. Who the hell needed four glasses for dinner? What were they all for? And how was she going to get through this meal without knocking at least one of them over?
Where was the freaking kiddie table? She was so not prepared for this level of formality.
“Something wrong?” Silva asked, concern etched on his face.
“No,” Lena lied, forcing a smile that probably made her look like a deranged psychopath. “Just wondering where I should sit.”
Liam grinned, no doubt recognizing her panic for what it was. She made a mental note to discuss her total lack of preparation with him later. The least he could’ve done was remind her to watchPretty Womanagain to brush up on her table manners.
Ay bendito. What was the rule of thumb when it came to silverware? Three tines or four for salad? Or was it okay to just start from the outside and work your way in toward the plate?
Pereira and his wife took the seats at the head and foot of the table. Liam was seated to Pereira’s left, then Lena, with Silva sitting to Pereira’s right, directly across the table from Liam. The rest of the embassy staff filled in the remaining chairs as Mrs. Pereira explained that the children were eating in the kitchen.
A pang of envy pierced her chest as Liam pulled out her seat. Adulting was the worst.
Once everyone was seated, Pereira announced they’d be eating feijoada, a traditional Caridosoan stew served with rice, greens, and orange slices.
The savory scent of beef and spices filled the air as the staff began delivering dishes to the table, and Lena’s stomach rumbled in approval.
Please for the love of all that’s holy don’t let it be a messy dish.
…
Liam sat across from Silva, studying the man who’d orchestrated this whole event but who didn’t wish to discuss the matter at hand. Which meant Silva was simply feeling him out.
Had there been something in Silva’s intel that made him cautious of Liam? He couldn’t imagine what it might be. Liam was known to be a cunning negotiator, but that wouldn’t have fazed an old battle-ax like Silva. Perhaps the turmoil surrounding the crown had reached the ears of the Caridoso government after all.
Not that he was surprised. The opposition was getting bolder, and the capital paper had run an article just this morning, stating it was only a matter of time until Parliament made their move. With that kind of press, was it any wonder the Caridosoans were apprehensive?
He’d have to find a way to bolster their confidence.
The last thing he needed was for them to back out due to fear of the crown imploding.
“I’ve never had the pleasure of sampling Caridosoan cuisine, but dinner smells wonderful,” Elena said, leaning forward to address their host as servers moved around them, placing artfully finished plates on the table.
“Feijoada is our national dish,” Pereira said, smiling broadly, in full ambassador mode now. “It speaks to our humble roots, but I daresay there’s nothing modest about the way our chef prepares it here at the embassy. I hope you will enjoy it.”
“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I have no doubt it will be divine.” Elena leaned back in her chair and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear just as the server reached down to set a steaming dish before her. Her arm tangled with the server’s and when she tried to pull it free, the dish the woman held careened forward, knocking over one of the silver candelabras that lit the table. Most of the candles snuffed out on impact, but the tallest one caught the edge of the floral centerpiece on its way down. The silk bouquet went up in flames, the edges turning black and curling in on themselves as the fire licked through the vibrant gold petals, turning them to ash one by one.
Bloody fucking hell.
Horror-stricken, the server jumped back and made the sign of the cross. Elena stared slack-jawed at the burning centerpiece, as if unable to believe her own eyes. The room fell silent and even Liam—who’d thought he could no longer be surprised by Elena’s impossibly bad luck—was frozen in shock.
